Mara awoke to silence.
Not the hollow silence of the simulation — this was real. Dense. Imperfect.The kind of silence filled with dust motes and the hum of long-dead machines.
She lay in what looked like a bunker. Cracked concrete walls. Moss growing in the corners. A rusted medical monitor blinked red once — then died.
She sat up slowly. Her body felt strange — too heavy, too slow. Real.
Her throat was dry. Her heart was loud.
Then she saw it.
A window — half-shattered, streaked with ash — revealing a sky she had never seen before.
Clouds hung low.The sun burned through haze like an apology.And in the distance… broken towers, overgrown with ivy.
But life.
A bird flew past the window.
Mara let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob.
"I made it," she whispered.
And then, quieter still:
"I left him behind."
Her hands trembled.
She reached into the pocket of her worn hoodie.
Nothing.
No letter.
Only the memory of it.
She closed her eyes. Tried to remember Theo's face.
It was already beginning to fade.
Outside, a soft wind stirred the wild grass.
Somewhere in the distance, a child's voice echoed through the ruins — singing an old lullaby.
Mara stood up. Wiped her eyes. And took her first step forward.
Not toward the past.
But toward the world that still remained.