The silver door trembled softly, emitting a low, steady sound—like the heartbeat of some distant giant.
I stepped closer. A chill seeped into my chest. It wasn’t from wind or mist, but from memory itself. They came like thin tendrils of smoke, curling around my wrists, trying to slip inside my mind.
Wind stood beside me, her hand resting lightly on the door’s surface. Her fingers trembled. Eyes closed, she seemed to be listening to a melody only she could hear.
“The gate is open… but not for long,” she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse.
I turned to her, about to ask something, but stopped. There was something different in her gaze—deeper, heavier, as if holding an ocean of memories that did not belong to her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes.
“You have to go first.”
I frowned. “Go first? What about you?”
“I can’t leave. The memory curse in this place… it has already recognized me.”
Before I could speak again, shards of light began to spill from the crack in the door. They burst outward like splintered glass. Each shard held a fleeting image—a field, a pair of eyes, a burst of laughter—before fading into nothing.
Wind turned to me and placed her hand against my temple. A warm pulse spread through me.
“I’ve found a fragment of Long’s memory. This is all I could decode in time.”
In my mind, I saw him—Long—slightly older than the last time I’d seen him. He sat at a wooden table, the glowing cube before him. The light from it pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
She withdrew her hand, a brief spark lighting her eyes.
“This memory fragment will lead you to the next place. But if you stay… the gate will close, and both of us will be trapped.”
I looked at the door, then back at her.
“I will come back for you.”
She smiled faintly, but it was the kind of smile that carried sorrow deep enough to make my throat tighten.
“I know.”
A soft crack echoed. The door was closing.
I stepped into the light.
