Between What Is and What Was Lost
The place stretched endlessly—
white like ancient bones, beneath a sky with no sun and no moon.
There were no shadows anywhere…
except hers.
Her shadow followed closely behind her,
as if it knew the way better than she did.
Her steps sank into the cold sand,
and every grain carried an old sound within it:
Connie's laughter as a child,
his crying in the village at night,
his voice calling "Mom" inside a dream.
Yet every time she turned to look for him,
she found nothing but empty fields.
Then the presence came.
Not a human voice.
Not the whisper of wind.
But something that touched her soul directly.
She lifted her head—and saw her.
A small girl,
hair golden like summer wheat,
eyes the color of sunset.
She stood a few meters away, staring in silence.
Then she turned her back and walked toward a white light rising on the horizon.
Her steps were steady,
as if she knew there would be no return from that path.
Around them, enormous shadows moved slowly—
faceless, weightless,
as though every mindless Titan the world had ever known had gathered here.
But they did not look at her.
They seemed asleep—
dreamless.
That was when she understood:
this place was not for bodies,
but for souls suspended between being… and being forgotten.
Suddenly, warmth—
real warmth—
pulled her backward.
Different from the cold of this world.
She could not see who held her,
but she knew.
A soul that had refused to surrender to absence
had reached out
and pulled her back.
Present — The Warm Stone Room of the Palace
"…And then I woke up."
Connie's mother said it softly,
her voice still carrying traces of that ancient cold.
Sarah sat beside her, leaning forward slightly,
listening as if she were writing every word into her heart.
Connie held his mother's hand, gripping it gently,
as though afraid she might vanish again if he closed his eyes.
The mother looked at Sarah and smiled—
a faint smile, but a true one.
"I don't know how to explain it," she said quietly.
"But you were there.
Not in the place… but in the feeling.
As if your soul reached out and brought me back."
Sarah turned her face away,
a warm tear slipping from her eye
and falling onto the woman's hand.
"I just…" she whispered,
"I didn't want anyone to lose their mother—
the way I lost mine."
The mother tightened her grip on Sarah's hand with all her strength.
"Then we are equal now," she said.
"You gave me back my son…
and I gave you back something of your mother."
Connie's voice broke the silence, rough with emotion:
"Mom… Sarah…
you're both my family."
Sarah couldn't stop herself.
She smiled through her tears.
Connie wrapped his arms around her tightly,
as if thanking her without words
for everything she had done.
In that moment, Sarah felt the invisible wall between her and the Corps begin to fade—
and somehow, without realizing it,
she had become one of them.
There were only three hearts beating in the room,
moving in the same rhythm:
A mother returned from a long absence.
A son who had found her embrace again.
And a stranger who became family without ever meaning to.
Connie's mother lifted her trembling hand, took Sarah's, and said in a hoarse whisper:
"Thank you for not leaving him alone."
Warmth spread from their joined hands into Sarah's chest.
A tear shimmered—but did not fall.
Before she left, Connie gripped her shoulder and pulled her into a tight embrace,
whispering as if sealing a vow between them:
"From today on… you're my family."
The words were simple.
But in Sarah's heart,
they weighed more than any oath she had ever sworn.
Do you believe Sarah truly changed fate by saving Connie's mother…
or did she only awaken something far more dangerous within the Paths?