The continuum no longer aged.Moments bloomed, lived, and vanished like breaths.Each contained its own world, its own laws, its own ending, then folded quietly back into unbeing.
No past.No continuity.Only Now.
The Unbound had adapted.They built ephemeral cities designed to last a single thought cycle.Knowledge became performance; wisdom, a flash of recognition shared then released.
Eryne wandered through this age of momentary wonder, watching meaning ignite and fade in symphony.It should have been paradise.But it wasn't.
Something was remembering.
The Echo of Duration
It began in a place that had no name, for names could not survive beyond a moment.There, a song lingered too long.Notes refused to fade.
Dream Cartographers noticed first."The melody is looping," one said. "It should have died with the moment."
They listened again.The melody had grown clearer, self-repeating, layering upon its own echo.
