It was hers. The room. The walls. The narrow slit of light near the ceiling. Linuka Omga stood frozen, staring at a place that should not exist anymore. Her childhood bedroom. Rebuilt. Piece by piece. Her father had saved her here once. He should be gone now. But he wasn’t. Somewhere, across the fractures of reality—he was still there. And the Assembly knew it.

Immortality had never looked so much like sacrifice. Vriishany stands ready to give up everything for forever—willing, hopeful, and blind to the truth. But as the ritual begins, Linuka feels something go wrong deep within her. Not fear. Not doubt. Something older. Something that recoils. And suddenly, the path ahead narrows to one inevitable destination.

The immortals ruled through time—through endless futures, carefully weighed and chosen. So why would Linuka Omga collapse them all into a single moment? Rige stared at the unfolding pattern. Fewer possibilities. Fewer paths. A forced move. And finally—an opening.