I ran.
Not knowing where, only knowing I had to get out before the space collapsed in on itself. The memory shard of Wind burned hot in my pocket, its pulse syncing with the flickering light from the half-finished map.
Then I saw it—
A fracture in reality.
Not a complete gate, just a thin crack between two trembling layers of existence. Through it, swirling fragments of colors collided like shattered memories seeking their place in the universe.
I threw myself in.
It was like rushing through a storm of photographs. Thousands of images slammed into my mind in a single breath: faces I had never seen, landscapes I had never walked, and—there—just for a heartbeat—Wind’s silhouette, turning back amid a crowd, as if searching for someone.
Then, with a violent pull, the world spat me out.
No dome above me now. Instead, I was standing in a vast, silent void, stretching endlessly in every direction.
Floating in the darkness were countless luminous gates, each one trembling with its own reality behind it. Some pulsed gently, as if waiting. Others burned bright like dying stars, fading even as I watched.
I fell to my knees, chest heaving, my hand clutching the memory shard and the half-finished map as though they were the last pieces of myself.
I didn’t know where I was.
But one thing struck deep into my bones—
This wasn’t the end. Not yet.
Somewhere ahead, the path was still waiting.
