"Are you done with your pitiful struggle?"

The Aeon of Destruction held Vance by the neck. The ground beneath them was broken creating a ravaged landscape. The Anti Matter Legion's descent had reduced the planet to ruins. It's crust riddled with ravines, protrusions, and valleys.

Elio's script had failed. Out of the millions of possibilities that made up the present and future, somehow, Vance and his nameless companions had managed to ruin it all. They had placed their hopes in him, their dreams. Together, they were supposed to overcome the impending destruction Elio had foreseen—and yet…

"If only… if only… if only…"

Doubts and what-ifs clouded his mind. Himeko had died trying to save him, and Dan Heng was lost to the void. Welt was nowhere to be found. The Stelleron Hunters had been imprisoned by the IPC. Every step forward had only led to disaster. And now, in this final confrontation that shouldn't even have happened yet, Nanook had arrived to claim what was his.

The clicking and hissing of the legion behind Nanook echoed in Vance's ears, a horrible, rhythmical sound that rattled his very bones. He'd given up. There was nothing left he could do—nothing left to save. The people he cared about, who had died trying to protect him, could never come back. Everyone left after them was doomed to the same fate. This world—no, this entire universe—was on the brink of ruin. Perhaps the other Aeons would band together to defeat Nanook, as they had done with Propagation. But not in time to save Vance.

Nanook's face showed no emotion, but for a brief, fleeting moment, Vance thought he saw a glimmer of pity in his eyes—maybe even regret. And as Vance's breathing became shallow, he managed to force a weak, resigned smile.

"Yeah... I'm done."

"..."

"I see."

In an instant, Nanook's hand pierced Vance's chest. Blood poured from the gaping wound. Vance's face, stained with the blood of others, was pale, his once-black hair now pure white and matted from the ash that clung to him.

[Defile and ruin, break!]

The planet shook in response to Nanook's command, the ground beneath them splitting apart. The stelleron, now ripped from Vance's chest, flared with destructive energy as Nanook tossed both it and its former bearer into the void.

Vance's body plummeted, deafened by the roaring winds which drowned out the distant screams of his comrades. Would he die from his wound or from the fall first? He didn't know. He didn't care anymore. All he knew was that he cursed this world, cursed himself for ever believing he could save it. Who did he think he was? A hero? He had never been anyone's hero. 

Just someone playing pretend.

As the stelleron hit the bottom of the chasm and shattered, sending a burst of energy outward. It distorted the stars and constellations around him. Just as his vision blurred and darkness closed in, Vance glimpsed the faint outline of a golden tree stretching across the cosmos, its branches impossible to count, its roots beyond comprehension.

He extended his reach out to grasp one of its branches but he kept plummeting down and down towards the bottomless sea below the tree.

The cold enveloped him.

Thud.

Vance had hit the ground.

.

..

...

Frequency: ???

Amber Era ???

Planet: ???

...

..

.

'My head hurts…'

Vance placed a hand on his temple as he sat up. The ground beneath him was cold stone, and a soft fur blanket covered his body. The crackling of a nearby fire filled the air, its warmth a welcome contrast to the chill in his bones.

"Oh, you're awake?" A woman's voice pulled him from his daze. She knelt beside him, holding a bowl of steaming soup. The aroma was comforting.

The woman had long pink hair with frosted blue tips, her eyes a gradient of vibrant pink and blue, gleaming like distant stars.

She looked familiar, but… aside from falling, he couldn't remember anything.

She studied him closely, her brow knitting in concern as she caught the flicker of confusion in his eyes. "Struggling to remember? You took quite a nasty fall out there."

Vance shook his head, trying to focus.

The woman exhaled softly, her expression softening with sympathy. She extended her arms and placed her cold hands on his cheeks. The chill sent a shiver down his spine.

"Come here…" She gently pressed her forehead against his and whispered something under her breath.

In an instant, Vance's memories rushed back, overwhelming him. It felt like watching someone else's life unfold, only it was his. His friends, his failures, the losses. Each memory was foreign, yet so familiar. It was disorienting.

When she pulled away, the woman smiled. "Better?"

Vance blinked, the memories now flowing freely. He saw a short pink-haired girl filled with boundless enthusiasm, one of his companions, someone irreplaceable. A fresh wave of emotion hit him, and his vision blurred. A tear traced down his face.

"Eh?!" The woman recoiled, looking startled by his sudden display of emotion. She quickly grabbed a small piece of leather and gently wiped his face.

"I'm sorry... you just look like someone I once knew. Thank you." He wiped his eyes, but the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. "What's your name?"

The woman paused, her eyes filled with sorrow. "My name is Lia. And you are?"

"Vance... I'm Vance," he said softly, but his voice trailed off as doubt gnawed at him. I have no right to call myself the trailblazer anymore.

Vance's mind raced. 

'Wait... how am I not dead?'

He began to frantically pat himself down, his hands moving in a panicked search like someone who had just realized their phone was missing.

His gaze shot to his chest. The memory of the fatal wound was still vivid, but when he threw the blanket off and checked, his bare skin was unmarred, no trace of blood. There was no gaping hole. Instead, a faint line of ice-like energy lingered where the wound had been—healed just enough to stop the bleeding, but not fully closed.

Then, as if the sudden rush of movement had caught up with him, a wave of pain shot through his body.

"Erk!"

Lia placed the blanket back over him, her touch gentle yet firm. "Don't move too much. You're still recovering."

"Did you heal me? How am I alive? How did you find me? Where are we?" Vance's questions tumbled out, his mind spinning.

Lia pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh. I'll explain as much as I can, but for now... you should eat."

She lifted a wooden spoon, dipped it into the soup, and held it in front of his mouth. The smell was irresistible, and the growl of his stomach reminded him just how hungry he was. He reached for the spoon, but Lia didn't let go.

"I can feed myself," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Her eyes flashed cold, her tone commanding. "Open your mouth."

"Uh... yes, ma'am," Vance muttered, startled by the sudden shift in her demeanor. Hesitantly, he complied, allowing her to feed him. She smiled softly, a serene joy lighting up her face as she tended to him.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," he quipped, attempting to ease his own tension after swallowing the bite in his mouth.

Lia's expression shifted back to her usual calm, a faint smile gracing her lips. She was undeniably beautiful, but Vance couldn't help noticing the weight behind her expression. That smile—it was forced, hiding a pain he'd seen far too often in others.

"The only way to make new memories is by enjoying the present," she replied quietly.

His attempt at teasing didn't seem to land, leaving Vance momentarily unsure how to respond to such a profound statement. Instead, he let the silence linger and took the chance to examine his surroundings now that his nerves had settled.

The room they were in was made of cold, gray concrete, its size modest but not cramped. Lanterns were carefully placed around the room, their warm glow ensuring no corner was left in darkness. A cluttered desk sat against one wall, piled high with disorganized papers, while nearby bookshelves strained under the weight of aging, tattered books.

In the center of the room, a small campfire crackled softly, radiating the only source of heat. The only exit was a wooden door, heavily insulated with layers of fur to keep the cold at bay. There were no windows.

Aside from the makeshift bed he was resting on, there was only one other bed in the room, positioned on the far side of the fire.

"You live by yourself?" Vance asked, breaking the silence.

The corner of Lia's mouth twitched faintly, but her expression remained composed. "It would be more accurate to say I'm the only one left."

"I see…" Vance murmured, the weight of her words sinking in. He couldn't help but feel a pang of familiarity. Both of their worlds were broken and barren—each of them left standing as the last remnants of something that once was. Though, unlike Lia, Vance had been cast out from his world and now found himself a stranger in this one.

"Do you mind if I ask?" he said gently, careful not to press too hard.

Lia shook her head slowly, signaling it was all right to ask.

Vance met her gaze, his voice soft but steady.

"What happened here?"

Lia closed her eyes, as though recounting a forgotten tale. "Before I was born, the Eternals were already a part of our world. Ethereal beasts that plagued humanity, pushing us to the brink of extinction. They corrupted everything—our land, our food, even our friends and families. We fought for survival, each of us doing what we could to hold on. But eventually… I was left alone. Alone to remember what once was."

Her voice faltered for a moment, but when she continued, it was with a quiet fury. "That was when it found me." Her eyes glinted with a deep, seething rage. "It looked at me. And from that day, I've carried the weight of everything—the history of this world—burned into my mind. What this planet used to be… what it could have been."

She paused, the bitterness in her voice thickening. "But remembering is all I've been able to do. For as long as I can remember, that's all I've had—memories of a lost world."

"By 'It,' do you mean—?"

"The Remembrance. Yes."

Lia's tone was calm, and there was no hint of deceit in her words. If she wasn't lying... the realization sent a shiver down Vance's spine. To be glanced at by an Aeon made one an emanator, and it suddenly made sense why she had so effortlessly healed his wounds and reclaimed his memories.

"Does that shock you?" Lia asked, her sharp gaze cutting through the silence.

Vance's heart skipped a beat. He tried to suppress the flicker of fear in his eyes, but it was no use. "I've had... some bad encounters with emanators before," he admitted, his voice low. "I just wasn't expecting to be cared for like this. So... thank you."

"Hmph!" Lia puffed her cheeks in a pout, her demeanor shifting unexpectedly.

"I've answered some of your questions," she said, her expression turning serious again.

"Now, it's your turn to answer mine."

"Fair enough," Vance replied.

"Where did you come from?"

"Earth," he said, leaning back slightly. "Or, at least, that's where I was before Nanook cast me away."

Lia's eyes widened slightly, her composure faltering. "Nanook? What did the Destruction want with you?"

"Well," Vance began with a forced chuckle, "he probably wasn't too happy that I was trying to kill him."

"Eh?!" Lia froze, her hands slipping, sending the empty wooden bowl and spoon clattering to the floor. Her expression was blank, as though she'd misheard him. "You what now?"

Vance scratched the back of his head, giving her a sheepish smile. "You can check my memories if you think I'm lying. That should be well within the skillset of an emanator of Remembrance, right?"

Lia quickly regained her composure, clearing her throat as she bent to pick up the dishes, carefully setting them aside. "What on earth prompted you to do something so... stupid?"

Vance's playful tone fell away, replaced by a heavy seriousness. "Elio's script."

Lia's gaze locked onto his, her full attention now fixed on him. "Elio's script?" she repeated softly.

He nodded. "I was part of a crew—the Astral Express. We traveled across worlds, visiting countless places. Everywhere we went, we ran into problems. Stellaron's were wreaking havoc on worlds, and in the beginning, we were reckless and naïve. We thought we could just rush in, save planets, and leave without consequences.

"We caused a ruckus everywhere we went," Vance continued with a small, humorless laugh. "We had the whole universe watching us. But then... I crossed paths with a certain group—Stellaron Hunters. We exchanged information, and that's when I learned about their plan... and about Elio's script… and… about my purpose in all of it."

Lia leaned closer, her eyes narrowing. "And what was this script?"

"Elio... he could see the future. He claimed to know the path to a... happy ending," Vance said, his voice soft but weighted. "It was from his visions that they created a plan—a plan to stop the destruction. To save the universe." His voice trailed off.

"But it didn't go according to plan," Lia finished for him, her tone heavy with understanding.

Vance let out a long, weary exhale.

"Correct. I failed."