The wind howled over the ruined ridge, carrying with it the faint scent of ash and ozone. Nova adjusted the strap of her satchel, her eyes narrowing against the glare of the fractured sun overhead. Theo walked ahead of her, silent, his boots crunching through frost-laced gravel.
They had been traveling west since dawn.
Behind them, Ayen trailed in her slow, eerie way—like she wasn't truly touching the ground. Her expression remained unreadable, but Theo noticed the way she flinched each time they crossed a dead zone in the thread network.
He stopped suddenly. "We're close."
Nova came up beside him, scanning the horizon. "To what?"
Theo pointed to a formation in the valley below. Obsidian-like spires curved upward like fingers reaching toward the sky, crackling faintly with residual energy. And in the center of it all—hovering, untouched—was a smooth, silver disk.
"That's the Cradle?" Nova asked.
Ayen's voice was barely a whisper. "No. That's just the gate."
Theo took a slow breath. His pulse felt uneven again—like time was tugging at his heart with every step he took. "Something's wrong with the threads here. I can feel them... pushing back."
Nova frowned. "Backlash?"
"No," he muttered. "More like… rejection. Like I'm not supposed to be here anymore."
Ayen finally spoke with clarity. "Because you aren't."
Theo turned to her.
"You're the variable," she said. "You were meant to reset. Not resist."
Nova's voice was firm. "Too bad fate didn't get the memo."
A soft smile touched Ayen's lips. "That's why I followed you."
Theo looked back toward the spires. He could hear something now—a low, rhythmic pulse. Not sound. Not even energy.
A heartbeat.
"Whatever's in there… it remembers me," he said.
Nova's grip tightened on her weapon. "And you're going in anyway?"
"Of course I am." He looked back at her, then Ayen. "Because if it remembers me, it might also remember what we lost. And how to get it back."
They descended together.
As they approached the edge of the gate, time stuttered. The world blinked—just once—and for the briefest moment, Theo saw a different version of Nova beside him. Her armor was charred. Her eyes were lifeless.
Then the vision was gone.
He staggered.
"You saw it," Ayen whispered. "Didn't you?"
Theo nodded grimly. "A future."
"No," she said. "A possible memory. The Cradle doesn't show you what will happen. It shows you what might have already happened… in threads that never survived."
Nova's voice was low. "And what happens if we step through?"
Ayen's reply chilled them both.
"You'll meet the version of yourself that remembered too much."