The living keep walking forward. The dead just learn to follow quietly.
I heard a meow.
I looked down, and the cat was insisting I follow him once more.
I put the book back on the shelf, then followed him back through the hall and back out the hatch. The storm had passed, but the silence was pretty eerie. The world felt rinsed clean under snow that gleamed like glass in the fading light.
Silence used to bring me calm.
I could always think better, come up with plans, and move against the enemy with stealth, like a rogue in the night. Here, it was different; I felt like I had forgotten my own ability to get things done that most couldn't. There was still an enemy, but one I couldn't name. No missions. No orders. And this kind of quiet was harder to outwit.
I climbed out and looked back at him, "Where to now?" I asked, and then realized I was talking to a cat. He gave me a pleased look and then strided across the snow like royalty. We walked until we finally reached a landscape that wasn't just endless snow.
I followed him into a gathering of dense pine trees. If something had been watching us, they sure wouldn't be able to now. The trees pressed in close, their branches heavy with ice. When the wind passed through them, it whispered like paper being turned in the library far away. I thought of shelves filled with lives, half-remembered and unfinished—mine among them.
It had been hours since we left the Valibrary—a name I just made up on the spot, since it wasn't a real library.
When we finally reached a cave, it looked dark and dripped with water from the melting snow. He slipped inside, and I followed the faint promise of warmth at the tunnel's end. Not that I needed it because I was cold, but because I was alone here, other than the cat, of course.
He moved like a memory that still remembered me. It was a strange comfort, being known by something when no one else could. I didn't know if I was following him—or being reminded of the path I'd already chosen. A drop of melting ice hit my shoulder. I brushed it off before remembering it couldn't actually touch me. The reminder stung more than the cold ever could.
The further I got, the more I noticed it was working as a portal.
Deeper in, the darkness wasn't darkness anymore. Light shimmered faintly, like the seam of a thread being rewoven, like breathing through a dream you know isn't yours. The cat waited just ahead, his eyes two small lanterns of knowing. I realized then: he wasn't guiding me out. He was guiding me through. When I stepped through, I didn't just return to the warmth of her golden eyes. For a moment, I saw her as I used to—her hair catching the morning light, her voice soft enough to make me forget how much the world could hurt. Then the warmth shifted. It wasn't mine anymore; it belonged to time, to healing, to everything that didn't include me.
I returned to the truth of why I was against merging.
Because I couldn't hold her the way I used to.
A lot of time must have passed since then, as she was already heading back to work now.
She stopped and glanced over at the line for compatibility. She still tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking; some habits never die. I should have just done it with her. I didn't believe in it, but I was also scared of scoring low because I knew she believed. I didn't want to lose her. But I was being selfish, not caring about how much that meant to her.
If I could do it again, I would just do it with her. Explain that if it was low, it didn't mean we couldn't be together. I hurt her in so many ways I hadn't realized before. I remembered the quiet moments she'd tried to share—the ones I'd brushed aside in the name of purpose. Every missed touch became a weight now, every unspoken word another mile between us. I was always so busy. I never stopped to enjoy the little moments. It was always life or death in my mind until death finally came knocking. And it was too late to realize I wasn't doing the life part right.
She moved on into the museum, where she ran into Levi. I could see the way her posture changed around him—how her guard dropped just enough to let the light in. It wasn't romance yet, but it was something alive, something breathing.
Something had been wrong, and he was pulling her in. Showing her he could be trusted because he was trusting her now. He talked to her the way I never learned to—patient, certain she'd understand. I was glad for that.
If I trusted anyone to keep her safe after I'm gone, it would be him. He was everything I had once wished I could be for her. He was present, grounded, and unafraid of being soft. I'm glad he took an interest in her, even if it's painful to watch. I know he would be good to her.
She left Levi and walked to her office, taking her seat.
I stayed there long enough to feel the ache of it settle—the ache of seeing her safe, seen, and no longer mine. That should have been peace, but it was heavier than I expected.
Then the world trembled again.
At first, I thought it was grief, replaying itself.
Then the air thinned, bending around me like heat off metal. Another memory was coming, and we were getting warped into it, one of mine again. I hadn't known if I triggered it somehow, but maybe I was subconsciously thinking about home again.
I wasn't a bystander, at least not to myself. I fell into my role here, my own body.
Levi and I were tracking a drone when he crashed into my future partner, Danielle—the first time we met her. Levi asked if she was from around here. We had recruited her, and she became one of the best comrades to have.
Except this time, it wasn't her he was crashing into, it was Valley.
I waited behind the trees, wondering why my memory was altering. The edges of reality trembled. Her heartbeat echoed in mine. My thoughts blurred with hers, forming shapes I couldn't claim. Two minds becoming one, but both forgetting where they began.
Was it because our minds are still merging? Memories becoming tangled with each other?
I felt like a coward, staying back, watching Levi flirt with the girl again. As if he were meeting Valley before me in this memory. Except he wouldn't remember it this way. He would still remember the girl as Danielle. I started getting uncomfortable watching them lock eyes, watching her fall for him for the first time. Seeing him in a new way. This was what I wanted, I thought. But it still felt like she was being stolen right before my eyes.
It hurt to see her look at him that way. But maybe that's what love is—wanting her to feel something again, even if I'm no longer the reason she does.
I took a step and stepped on a twig, not intending to draw attention, at least not consciously, but she glanced over at me. Her expression looked like she had just betrayed me. Probably because I looked hurt and confused. But this wasn't what I wanted for her. I didn't want her to feel guilty for moving on. I'm dead, and there was no real relationship that we could have had. How I wish I could have told her before the forest blurred away.
Levi came to comfort her, where I couldn't.
This is why souls need to be able to move on to wherever comes next. I couldn't bear to keep watching this play out. I just wanted to approve and then leave this place.
But here came Levi again; he really knew when to show up for her.
Maybe I wasn't here to hold her hand anymore. Perhaps I was here to ensure someone else would. That thought used to burn, but I had to come to terms with it. Even if watching them felt like holding a shard of my own reflection, Sharp and beautiful, but meant to cut me. It didn't bleed this time. It just… settled.
She had asked about the forests, and I had a funny feeling he would be the first to bring her there. At first, I was going to miss out on it deeply. Because she has no idea that I'm here. I need to quit getting distracted and find a way to talk to her. I had hoped my motivation wasn't being driven by jealousy. I was more confused than ever, wanting her to be with him, not wanting her to be with him. Then I realized, what if I was putting this confusion onto her? I should have been more careful than this. I had to let my feelings for Levi go, all of them—the jealousy and the hope that they would end up together, versus her ending up with someone else. She needs to choose it for herself.
I could feel the Valibrary calling me again. Its halls flickered across my thoughts—endless corridors made of light and parchment. The books there weren't just written with ink, but with memory, each page alive with moments waiting to be understood. For the first time, I didn't feel like I was losing her. I was building something for her.
Maybe that's where I belonged now—not haunting her every step, but building what she'll someday find when she's ready to look.
Suddenly, Levi was gone—but he'll be back. Physically, I mean.
I'll still be here, just quieter. Writing from the shadows, turning memories into maps.
Maybe peace isn't silence, it's knowing that when she needs me, I've already left her the answer.
I turned back, my journey through the portal again, and back out of the cave. This time, the cat followed me.
He didn't walk ahead anymore. We moved side by side, our shadows fading into the pale horizon.
The snow glittered under the faintest starlight, and for once, the world felt like it didn't need words. The snow stretched out before me, unbroken and endless, but I wasn't lost this time.
I was finally walking home.
The living move on, and the dead learn to let them.
For now, I'll let her walk without me.
The Valibrary waits. And there's still so much to fill before her story continues.
I'll light the path ahead. One book, one memory, one truth at a time.