The next day, we returned to the abandoned laboratory.
The place hadn't changed—ruined walls, shattered glass, and the lingering scent of rust and decay. The air inside was thick with dust, making it feel like time itself had stopped here, leaving only echoes of what once was.
I walked behind Izumi, my boots crunching softly against the debris-covered floor. She led the way with silent determination, her gaze fixed ahead as if she already knew exactly where to go. Meanwhile, my eyes drifted over the broken remains of the facility, my mind trying to piece together the history buried within these ruins.
When we reached the processing chamber, Izumi came to a stop in front of a battered console. Its screens were cracked, its buttons dulled from time and disuse. Yet somehow, it still pulsed faintly with power, flickering like a dying heartbeat.
"I'll handle the process of retrieving the key," she said, her voice steady but tinged with something I couldn't quite place. "Wait here."
I nodded, leaning against a rusted railing, watching her work. The dim glow of the console reflected in her eyes, highlighting the tension in her expression. She was focused, but I could see the weight of something pressing down on her.
As minutes passed, my attention wandered. My gaze drifted to the far end of the lab, where a faint light flickered through the darkness. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but something about it pulled at me. Before I could think twice, my feet were already moving toward it.
And then I saw it.
A capsule—standing alone amidst the wreckage. Its glass was scratched, fogged over by time, but even through the haze, I could make out the figure inside. An android.
My breath caught.
Its face... its body...
It looked exactly like me.
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering against my ribs. This wasn't just similar—it was identical. My own reflection stared back at me through the glass, lifeless yet eerily familiar.
My hand lifted on its own, pressing lightly against the cold surface.
"...Why?" I whispered.
Why would an android share my likeness?
A thousand questions fought for space in my mind, each one more urgent than the last.
"Daichi!"
Izumi's voice rang through the chamber, sharp and urgent.
I flinched, torn from my thoughts. Turning back, I saw her standing near the console, gesturing me over with one hand. "The process is done!"
I hesitated, my gaze flickering back to the capsule. The android remained still, shrouded in mystery. But Izumi's call left me no choice. With a final glance at the sleeping figure behind the glass, I forced myself to step away and return to her.
Izumi held out a small, glowing object—a crystalline key that pulsed with an unnatural light. I could feel its energy even without touching it.
"This is the key," she murmured, her voice composed but her eyes heavy with sorrow. "Put it in your chest… when you're ready."
The lab around us buzzed with a quiet, unsettling energy, as if it knew what was coming. Sparks flickered from dying wires, the overhead lights dimming erratically. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of us.
I took the key from her hands, feeling its warmth seep into my skin.
Then, I stepped onto the platform.
The instant my foot landed on the cold metal, a harsh light beamed down from above, surrounding me in its glow. My shadow stretched across the floor, merging with the cracks and stains of a forgotten past.
Izumi stood frozen at the edge, her fists clenched tight.
"Daichi..." Her voice wavered, barely above a whisper.
I looked at her—really looked at her.
Her metal arm trembled under the pressure of her grip, her lips parted as if there were a million things she wanted to say but couldn't.
Then, she did.
"Please," she choked out, taking a step forward. "Just stop for a second. We don't have to do this. We can find another way."
I exhaled softly.
"Izumi..." I met her eyes, letting the truth settle between us. "You know we've run out of options. This is the only way."
"It doesn't have to be!" she shouted, her voice cracking. She took another step forward, her expression desperate, pleading. "We can try again! We've come so far, found so much. There's got to be another way! Just give me more time!"
A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips.
"How much more time, Izumi?" I asked gently. "Another week? Another year?" I shook my head. "Every second we delay, we lose more. You've seen the data. You know what this means. I was created for this. I was meant to do this."
She shook her head violently, her hair whipping around her face. Her eyes burned. "You don't have to be what they made you to be! You're more than that—you're more than just a tool! You're Daichi!" Her voice caught, trembling. "You're... you're my partner. My—"
She hesitated, her breath hitching.
Then, her fists unclenched, her fingers trembling as she whispered, "You're my family, Daichi. You're all I have left. And I'm not ready to lose you again."
Something deep inside me ached at her words.
I stepped down from the platform, closing the distance between us. Slowly, I placed my hands on her shoulders. She flinched but didn't pull away.
"Izumi..." I murmured. "You've always been by my side. Even when I didn't know who I was, you were there. You believed in me. You gave me a reason to keep going." My grip tightened slightly. "But this... this is my choice. And if it means giving you and everyone else a future, then it's worth it."
Her body shook. She grabbed onto my jacket, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her standing. "You don't get it," she whispered. "I don't want a future if you're not in it."
I exhaled sharply, leaning forward, resting my forehead against hers. "You're not alone, Izumi," I whispered. "You'll never be alone."
Her tears fell, warm against my skin.
"Then stay," she pleaded, voice cracking. "Please, stay with me."
My heart clenched.
"If I could..." My voice broke, and I forced myself to pull away. "But this is the only way."
The machine roared to life. The platform glowed brighter.
Izumi's grip tightened on me, her scream ripping through the air. "No! Daichi!"
I looked at her one last time.
"Thank you, Izumi," I whispered. "For everything."
And then, light swallowed me whole.
Pain.
Then—nothing.
When Izumi stumbled out of the facility, the world had changed.
The barren wasteland was gone.
People filled the streets—laughing, walking, living. The world moved on as if the calamity that erased everything had never existed.
Izumi stood there, frozen. Her wide, unblinking eyes darted between the strangers who passed her without a second glance.
"What... is this?" she whispered, clutching her chest. It ached.
No one answered. No one noticed.
Then, she turned back toward the lab.
It was the only thing untouched.
The time travel had changed everything—everything except the lab itself.
Her mind swirled with questions, but this time, there was no one next to her to answer them.
Daichi was gone.
And she was alone.