The air between them still shimmered with the kiss, but Aveline knew—deep down—that this peace was temporary. Love had always been a flicker of light in the dark for her, something warm and flickering, always one breath away from being extinguished.
Lucien sat across from her now in the quiet of her quarters, a single lamp casting golden light between them. His hair was slightly mussed from the wind. He looked at her as if he already knew the truth she hadn't dared to speak.
And maybe he did.
"You're remembering more, aren't you?" he said gently.
She hesitated, then nodded. "Fragments. Feelings. Things I shouldn't know. Places I've never been to in this version of time—but I see them in my dreams. Hear them in the cracks of silence. Lucien… I think I remember how you died."
Lucien's gaze dropped to his hands. "Tell me."
She exhaled slowly. "We were in the eastern wing of Concordia. There was a breach. Someone tampered with the core—something to do with Phase Zero. You tried to stop the override. I followed you." Her voice wavered. "You turned to tell me to run. But I stayed."
Lucien looked up, his expression unreadable. "I stayed too, didn't I?"
Aveline nodded. "The blast came from the lower containment chamber. You shielded me. That's the part I never forgot—the moment everything went white, and I felt your body go limp in my arms."
The silence between them became a third presence in the room.
"Why haven't you told me before?" he asked, softly.
"Because I was afraid," she whispered. "Afraid that if you knew how many times I tried to save you, how many timelines I broke, you'd look at me differently."
Lucien stood and crossed the room in two strides. He knelt in front of her, hands finding hers. "Aveline, I don't care how many times you've torn the world apart for me. I only care that you're here."
Her eyes welled with tears. "But I'm not the same girl you loved. I've changed. I've seen things… lost people… lost you."
"Maybe we've both changed," he said. "Maybe that's the point."
She blinked at him. "What do you mean?"
Lucien stood and crossed to the wall, opening a narrow drawer embedded in the console. From inside, he pulled a small, sleek device—barely larger than a coin. He handed it to her.
"What is this?" she asked.
"It's a memory stabilizer," he replied. "Prototype tech Clara has been working on secretly. Not to erase… but to restore."
Aveline's heart stopped. "You remember something too?"
He met her eyes. "Not everything. But enough. I see flashes. You in a red dress, running through fire. My hand clutching yours while we fell through what looked like—" He stopped, voice strained. "Time wasn't linear. It broke. Like a loop that folded in on itself."
Aveline stared at the device in her palm. "If we activate this… there's no turning back."
"I know."
A pause.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
She looked up at him. "I never stopped."
He placed his hand over hers, enclosing the device. The moment they touched, the room's lights flickered.
A sudden pulse echoed through the floor.
The walls around them seemed to shift. Reality stuttered.
Then came a voice over the facility's comm system. Clara's voice, sharp with urgency:
"Aveline. Lucien. Get to Sub-Level Nine. Now. The files from Loop One have been breached."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Someone else knows."
Aveline gripped his hand. "Clara's voice… she sounded scared."
He pulled her close. "Then let's go find out what ghosts we've really buried."
As they ran into the corridor, alarms began to wail.
Lights dimmed to emergency red.
And somewhere deep beneath Concordia, the truth they'd both died to protect began clawing its way to the surface.