The void was no longer empty.
Mark blinked, eyes slowly adjusting to a soft, shimmering blue glow that surrounded him like a gentle fog. The numbness in his limbs faded. Gravity returned. And then—a sensation like being drawn forward, called by something ancient and absolute.
He stumbled forward, instinctively bracing for impact, but instead, he landed on what felt like smooth marble.
Breathless, he lifted his gaze.
In front of him stood a woman unlike anyone he had ever seen.
She wore robes of deep navy silk, flowing and layered like ocean waves caught in moonlight. The fabric shimmered with stardust patterns, shifting with each movement. Her skin was a flawless shade of soft bronze, and her jet-black hair fell in long, elegant curls down her back, adorned with tiny silver ornaments that chimed faintly with no wind.
But it was her eyes that held him still—luminous violet, like galaxies condensed into irises. Calm, unreadable, and impossibly ancient.
She tilted her head slightly as if amused by his stunned silence.
"You've arrived."
Mark took a cautious step back. "…Where am I?"
The woman gave a soft, melodious laugh, as if the question had been asked a thousand times.
"You're between endings and beginnings. This is the Hall of Passage."
Mark blinked, still trying to piece together what was happening.
She smiled, graceful and unhurried. "My name is Maya. I oversee the transition of souls—particularly those destined for rebirth."
"…Rebirth," Mark echoed, the word foreign on his tongue.
"Yes. Your soul was claimed by the breach between realms—an unintended death with unresolved fate. Now, you've been given a rare opportunity."
Mark took a breath, steadying himself. "You're saying I'm… dead?"
Maya nodded gently. "Your previous life has concluded."
A strange quiet filled the space between them.
Then Mark gave a dry, ironic laugh. "I guess this is where I get trucked into another world, huh?"
Maya raised an eyebrow. "Truck?"
"It's… never mind," he muttered, waving it off. "Emily used to read novels like that. About people dying and waking up in magic kingdoms. Sword fights. Elves. That kind of stuff."
"Ah," Maya said knowingly. "Stories that carry the echo of truth. Not so different from what awaits you."
Mark paused. "So this is real? I'm being… reincarnated? Into another world?"
"Yes."
The space around them began to ripple, revealing faint, floating glimpses—glimpses of a fantastical world. Cities with towering spires. Winged beasts soaring across crimson skies. Elven forests glowing with bioluminescence. Ancient ruins pulsing with dormant magic.
It was everything Emily had dreamed of.
His heart ached.
"…She would've loved this."
Maya studied him for a moment. "Your bond with the one named Emily… is strong."
Mark looked down. "She was my everything. Is my everything."
A pause. Then he asked, voice trembling, "If I'm going to another life… can I keep my memories of her? Of us?"
Maya's expression grew serious. "Normally, no. Memory is a weight most souls cannot carry between worlds. It disrupts the soul's growth and balance."
Mark clenched his fists. "Please. I don't care about the risk. I need to remember her. If I lose that… I lose me."
She considered this, the swirling cosmos in her eyes flickering with something unreadable.
"There is… one condition," Maya said at last. "You may retain your memories—but only if you agree to fulfill a request when the time comes."
Mark didn't hesitate. "I'll do it."
Maya raised a hand. "Do not be hasty. You must understand: this request will not come immediately. It may be days… or years. It may test your strength. It may force you to choose."
Mark looked her straight in the eye. "As long as I keep her with me—in here—" he tapped his chest, "—then I'll pay any price."
A faint smile touched Maya's lips. "Very well. ."
A soft wind rose from nowhere, swirling around him. Faint runes glowed in the air, encircling his body.
Mark exhaled slowly. "I'm ready."
Maya walked toward him, and for a brief moment, he could see the full intensity of her beauty. Ethereal. Celestial. Otherworldly.
But even in her surreal perfection, one thought flickered quietly in his mind:
Emily's more beautiful.
Even now—no, especially now—her image lived vividly in his heart. Her silver hair in the morning light. Her sleepy smile. The sound of her humming while sketching on the sofa.
He couldn't let that go.
Wouldn't.
Maya extended her hand, and Mark felt a rush of warmth pulse through his chest. The runes tightened around him like a cocoon.
Maya extended her hand, and the glowing runes around Mark pulsed brighter.
"You will be reborn in a world called Etherya," she said, her voice now calm but firm. "There, your life will begin anew. You will grow, learn, and walk a path intertwined with others. However—there is one more condition tied to your memory."
Mark furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"
"You will retain your memories," Maya said, "but they will remain sealed until you reach the age of nineteen. Only then will the bond of your past life—your memories of Emily—return to you."
Mark staggered slightly, the realization hitting like a wave.
"Nineteen years… without remembering her?"
"It is necessary," Maya said gently. "The soul must adapt. If you carried everything from the start, your very existence in Etherya would unravel."
He swallowed hard. The idea of forgetting her—even temporarily—cut deeper than any blade. But if it meant he could truly remember her later, not just fragments or echoes, then…
"…I'll wait," he said quietly. "For her… I'll wait as long as it takes."
Maya nodded, her violet eyes softening. "Then your pact is complete."
"Sleep now," she said gently. "When you wake, your journey begins."
He looked up at her one last time. "What's the request? What do you want from me?"
Maya gave him a soft, mysterious smile.
"I will tell you," she said, "when the time is right."
The runes blazed.
Mark's vision filled with white light.
And then—
Everything vanished.