After the sky was remade, the world beneath their feet grew quiet not with silence, but with listening.
Each step Oscar took echoed like the turning of a page.
The air shimmered, forming a winding path of silver stones.
At the end of that path stood something impossible:
A single door.
It wasn't attached to any wall or house.
It stood alone, framed by nothing but the open air, and yet it radiated an undeniable presence as if the entire universe bent around it.
Origin's eyes widened.
"That's not just a door. That's… a memory."
When Oscar approached, the door trembled softly.
It wasn't wood, or metal. It looked like it was made of pages, each one fluttering in a breeze that wasn't there.
Then he heard it.
A whisper.
"Oscar…"
The voice was not loud, but it struck him like lightning. It was familiar, intimate, and warm.
His hand froze midair.
"Did you hear that?"
Origin shook her head slowly.
"It's not talking to me. Only you.
The door pulsed with light. Words, names, and memories scrawled across its surface: his childhood laughter, his first failures, his greatest regrets.
Each memory shimmered like a reflection in water, until one name stood out brighter than all the rest.
"Do you remember me?"
Oscar's breath caught in his throat. He did remember.
This wasn't just a door.
It was the door.
The one that led to the moment he'd always avoided.
The choice he'd buried.
"Why now?" Oscar whispered.
"Because," the door answered softly, "you're ready to open me."
Origin stepped closer, her gaze heavy.
"This is dangerous. Doors like this don't open to places. They are open to truths."
Oscar clenched his fists.
"I've been running from the truth for too long."
"And what if you don't like what you find?"
"Then I'll rewrite it."
Oscar placed his palm against the door.
The pages rippled, as though ink was bleeding beneath them.
"Oscar," the door whispered again, "do you know who you were, before the stories?"
The door unlocked with a sound like thunder and wind.
A rush of light poured through the cracks, pulling him forward.
Origin reached for him
But Oscar was already stepping through.
Inside, there was no ground, no ceiling.
Just a swirling ocean of memories, suspended like stars.
Oscar saw himself
As a boy, drawing stories in the dirt with a stick.
As a fighter, laughing in the face of defeat.
As a man, crying when no one was watching.
And then…
He saw someone else.
A woman.
Her back turned to him, standing in the distance.
"Who…?"
The memory turned its head
And smiled.
—
The Memory Who Loved You
The figure standing in the distance wasn't just a memory; she was alive within the space of echoes.
Her hair rippled like strands of ink swirling in water, black yet glowing faintly with starlight.
Her eyes soft, luminous held a thousand stories untold.
When Oscar stepped forward, the world shifted.
The stars around them pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The woman tilted her head slightly, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Who do you think I am?"
Her voice was a melody he had forgotten, yet it felt like home.
Oscar's lips moved before he could think.
"...Lyra?"
The name spilled from him like a long-buried truth.
The moment he spoke it, the stars flared and the ocean of memories shimmered, showing glimpses of a forgotten past.
He saw them laughing under a tree.
He saw her reaching for his hand during a storm.
He saw her walking away, her silhouette swallowed by time.
Oscar's knees weakened.
"No… you're gone. You can't be here."
Lyra stepped closer, each footstep creating ripples of gold across the star-ocean.
"I was never gone. You just stopped remembering me."
Origin's voice broke through from behind the door, distant and echoing:
"Oscar! What do you see?"
But he couldn't answer.
Lyra's presence filled everything.
She reached out, her hand almost touching his cheek.
"You rewrote so many things, Oscar. Worlds, systems, even the gods. But what about us? What about the story you were too afraid to finish?"
Oscar's chest tightened.
He remembered.
The life he had before he became a weapon of the System.
The life where Lyra was his reason to fight
And his reason to run.
Lyra's voice softened.
"Do you still want to leave me buried? Or will you let this memory breathe again?"
The stars still.
The room stopped moving.
It wasn't just a memory anymore.
This was a choice.
If he reached for her hand, the past would return pain, love, and all.
If he turned away, she would fade forever, and the story he once lived would never be remembered again.
Oscar's fingers hovered between fear and longing.
"Lyra… I don't know if I deserve you."
She smiled.
"Deserve? Oscar, I was never yours to deserve. I was always yours to remember."
Tears welled in his eyes as his hand closed around hers.
The moment their fingers touched, the world exploded into color.
The ocean of stars became a sunrise, sweeping across infinite realms.
Lyra's laughter rang through him like a song.
"You found me."
The door behind him vanished.
Origin stumbled into space, eyes wide at the sight of Lyra.
"Oscar… who is she?"
Oscar turned, his hand still holding Lyra's.
"She's the part of me I thought I lost. The one that never stopped dreaming for me, even when I gave up."