— Age Six —
The morning rain came quietly.
It crept into Halewood with soft thunder and gray skies, like a sleepy dream that never quite ended.
By breakfast, the school had already sent out notices: Classes canceled.Too wet. Too windy. Too perfect for staying inside.
Caelum sat by the window, a mug of warm milk in his hands, watching as the droplets traced rivers across the glass.
The Knock
There was a knock at the door.
A small, uneven one.
Caelum opened it to find Lysia, standing in a puffy yellow raincoat, her umbrella dripping and her backpack bulging.
She sniffled, eyes a little red from the wind, and held out a book with both hands.
"Story day."
The Setup
Moments later, they were tucked under a blanket in Caelum's living room.
The fireplace crackled. The soft patter of rain played on the roof above like a lullaby.
Lysia had peeled off her raincoat and socks, and now sat curled beside him in her pajamas. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her damp hair clung to her face in tiny curls.
"Which story?" he asked, opening the book.
She pointed. "The one with the inventor who built a world inside a dream."
He paused.
It wasn't a children's story.
But it was one he had once written.
In another world.In another time.For her.
The Reading
His voice was soft and steady as he read.
The story was about a boy who had lost everything — and a girl who believed dreams could be reborn.
Lysia listened in silence.
But the way her fingers curled into the blanket… the way her eyes slowly drifted closed…
She wasn't just listening.She was remembering.
Halfway through the second chapter, she leaned against him — warm, quiet, her breathing slowing.
And then, without warning—
She whispered it.
So softly he almost missed it:
"Caelum… my Caelum…"
The Shiver
His breath caught.
The book slipped slightly in his hands.
She was still asleep. Still dreaming.
But in that fragile moment — in that single sentence — she had reached through the veil of lifetimes.
He stared at her.
At the peaceful expression on her face.
At the way her hand had curled around his arm in sleep, as if even in her dreams she needed to know he was there.
He Didn't Wake Her
Instead, he pulled the blanket higher.
Rested his chin lightly on her head.
And held her close.
Not with desperation.
But with something even deeper.
She remembers me.
She remembers us.
And for the first time in ten thousand years—
He didn't feel alone.
System Log – Verbal Trigger: Identity Recognition
[GENESIS CORE SYSTEM – OBSERVER MODE]— Subject LYSIA GREY— Verbal Trigger: "Caelum… my Caelum…"— Memory Echo Level: 34.2%— Soul Synchronization: 38.0%— Memory Access Tier: Stabilizing— Estimated Full Recall Event: 2–3 Key Dream Triggers Remaining
"She called you hers, Creator. Not from memory. But from love."