They started walking.
At least, Vikram did.
Rive discovered that walking through a frozen moment was strangely difficult. The road beneath his feet kept shifting between solid and transparent, as though reality couldn't decide whether he was allowed to stand on it.
Every few steps, something changed.
A shop sign lost its letters.
A building suddenly had one fewer window.
A streetlight vanished when Rive looked away, leaving behind a perfectly empty space.
He stopped.
"Vikram."
"What?"
"Did that building just lose a floor?"
Vikram glanced at it.
"Yes."
"Buildings can do that?"
"Not normally."
"I'm really starting to hate that word."
Vikram turned toward him.
"Don't touch anything."
Rive immediately withdrew the hand he'd been reaching toward a floating bicycle.
"I wasn't going to."
"You were."
"I was considering it."
"Consider considering something else."
They continued.
At the end of the street stood a small convenience store.
Its glass doors were open.
Inside, a young ghost sat behind the counter, staring at a cup of coffee.
Unlike everything else, he was moving.
Slowly.
He lifted the cup.
Took a sip.
Then lowered it.
The same movement repeated.
Lift.
Sip.
Lower.
Lift.
Sip.
Lower.
Rive stared.
"Is he all right?"
Vikram's expression darkened.
"No."
The ghost repeated the movement again.
Rive stepped closer.
"Hey! Can you hear me?"
The ghost didn't react.
Rive waved a hand in front of his face.
Nothing.
Then Rive noticed something written on the counter.
Three words had been carved into the wood.
I FORGOT HER FACE.
Rive's smile disappeared.
"What does that mean?"
Vikram remained silent for a moment.
"Some things that disappear from this place don't return when the world repairs itself."
"Like what?"
"Memories. Names. Connections."
Rive looked back at the ghost.
"His memory?"
"Perhaps."
"Can I fix it?"
"Don't try."
"Why?"
"Because you don't know what you'll remove in exchange."
Rive stared at him.
"In exchange?"
Vikram finally faced him.
"Your power isn't free, Rive."
A strange coldness passed through Rive's chest.
"What does it cost?"
Vikram's eyes shifted toward the words on the counter.
"Something that belongs to you."
Before Rive could ask another question—
TICK.
The clock sounded again.
Every frozen object trembled.
The ghost behind the counter stopped moving.
For the first time, he looked directly at Rive.
His eyes widened.
"You…"
His voice sounded like a recording slowly being erased.
"You shouldn't have opened it."
Rive stepped backward.
"Opened what?"
The ghost's mouth moved.
But no sound emerged.
Then his face became blank.
Not expressionless.
Blank.
As if someone had removed the memory of how a face was supposed to look.
Vikram seized Rive's shoulder.
"Run."
"Why?"
The street behind them began disappearing.
Not collapsing.
Not breaking.
Disappearing.
Buildings vanished without rubble. Roads faded without cracks. The world was being erased one piece at a time.
And the emptiness was moving toward them.