I don't dream anymore.
Not of home. Not of escape.
Only of her.
Arena.
The girl who followed a ghost and became one.
I sit by the broken gate—what's left of it, anyway. The realm shifted again after she let go—sealing the Shifting Path behind molten stone and silence. I can't reach it anymore. No one can.
Sometimes I think I still hear her voice—faint, carried on the wind that doesn't exist in this place.
Other times, I see her.
Not as she was when I met her, breathless and terrified.
But as she is now.
Crowned by light. Silent and watching.
They call her the Gatebearer. I hear the whispers in the shadows. Even the Keepers are quiet when they speak her name.
I should've pulled her out.
I should've fought harder.
But how do you save someone who chooses to stay?
And maybe… just maybe… she wasn't meant to be saved.
Because now, this realm listens to her.
The bones no longer reach for me.
The trials no longer chase me.
They fear her more than they ever feared the ones who came before.
And me?
I stay in the ruins and remember the way her hand felt in mine, the moment before she let go.
The last thing I saw was her smile.
Not sad.
Not scared.
Certain.
And that's when I realized—
She didn't belong to our world anymore.
She belonged to this one.
And maybe she always had.
END.