The theater dissolved. The white void returned, but now it held warmth instead of emptiness.
Ashley stood in the geothermal gardens of Hearthome, steam rising from mineral pools beneath a twilight sky. The air smelled of sulfur and earth, sharp against her tongue. This place felt familiar, though she'd never been here in person.
Calypso's memory, bleeding through their connection.
The goddess sat by a pool's edge, wine-red hair falling in waves down her back. She wore the midnight dress from before, gold threads gleaming in the volcanic light. Her purple eyes reflected the water's surface.
But this Calypso held no divine spark, no otherworldly presence. She looked tired. Vulnerable in a way Ashley had never seen her.
"You're in my head now," Calypso said without turning. "I can feel you. Just like you felt me last night."
Ashley approached, her bare feet silent on warm stone. "This is your memory. The Archivist's showing me."
