Elisa and Astrid sat atop the hill of a garden that was an entire planet, a miniature world scarcely the size of a field, where the landscape was the whole universe—a small place floating within a neutral dimension, far from any rift, silent like the first day of the Second Existence.
Filled with stars. Timeless. Wrapped in a complete calm that would soon be broken by what was to come.
"I don't understand why you saved me," Elisa said, still somewhat dazed.
"Because I still believed you could understand," Astrid replied, gazing at the infinite horizon.
Elisa lowered her eyes. The hat rested on her knees, inert, as if it too contained doubts.
"I always thought that closing these rifts was the right thing to do. The duty that comes with bearing this hat…"
"And what if I told you that you're wrong?" Astrid slowly turned her face toward her; her brooch glowed like a heart still beating. "What if by sealing them you're condemning countless lives that could exist thanks to those fractures?"
Elisa looked at her seriously.
"How can it be right to let dimensions collapse into one another?… All the horror I saw in those worlds… how can it be right to live in a world that could end like that?"
"Because…" Astrid closed her eyes, swallowing her emotions. "Because my world collapsed for not doing so."
The silence was heavy.
"In my dimension," she continued, "we believed we were safe. A world we thought was perfect, polished, with mathematical harmony. But it was always a mistake. A world rejected from the very beginning by its creators—one we never truly understood.
We didn't know what lay beyond.
We had no way to flee, no way to prevent it…
We had no choice."
"But you did," Elisa said, her voice weary yet firm.
Astrid nodded, without pride.
"The brooch… I didn't find it by chance. It found me. Among the ruins of a reality already defeated.
And when I merged my first rift… I saw everything."
"Everything that could be lost," Elisa added.
"But also everything that could be saved," Astrid replied. "If all worlds were one single world… there would be no more surprises. No more ruptures. A single body, a single existence, with universal order. Like a scar that heals a wound, even if it never erases the mark."
Elisa lowered her gaze.
"But that's exactly what terrifies me…
A forced union of realities erases their diversity. It kills nuance.
What you propose isn't a cure… it's an irreversible fusion. The last universes I've been to showed me what a single miserable mistake can unleash, and if there is even the slightest chance that it could happen again, I can't allow it."
Astrid slowly approached, stopping in front of her.
"And what you're doing isn't a slow death? You close rifts one by one, like extinguishing stars.
Do you know how many creatures live between them? You're merely trading one possible death—one that could give rise to an entirely new reality—for the temporary salvation of another that's already worn down.
Those rifts aren't just reminders of a failed existence; they're doors to new ones. How many unborn worlds… will die without ever being born?"
Elisa looked at her with glassy eyes.
"Yes. I know. And I feel it with every closure. But I also know that if I leave them open… everything will disappear.
The first failed existence wasn't a warning tale. It was a roar of what must never happen again. And if you continue your mission, you could doom the entire Second Existence. All it would take is a single mistake—a small failure when merging dimensions, or even neglecting to monitor one thing after you've united them all—for everything to end just like that other reality. And the scars you've left in some of your unions are proof of that."
Astrid turned her gaze away, anger flickering—yet mixed with understanding.
"…You don't know that. Every rift I close makes me stronger. Every union I create is stronger than the last. I won't make mistakes…"
"You don't know that!" Elisa interrupted. "No matter what you do, you'll never be able to guarantee stability. A new life is not worth the risk."
"…And who are you to say that? Of all the beings in the multiverse, the only one who has no right to say it is you—the one who caused this armageddon in the first place. The disaster traveler who condemned countless worlds in her universe. The one who challenged the guardians of the multiverse and shattered all existence in the process," Astrid said tenaciously.
Elisa was left speechless.
"At least I'm trying to prevent what you caused from happening again. You're only delaying the inevitable. This corrupted plane was created because the guardians were too foolish the first time they made a reality, and that's why they formed this new existence. You're saving a world that was a mistake from the very beginning—something that never should have existed and is doomed to eventual death, whether by the rifts or by collapse itself. I only want to create a world that is truly better than the previous one," Astrid replied with determination.
Elisa remained silent for a few seconds, then answered with the same coldness.
"A better world for everyone—or for you? I don't believe someone who supposedly wants to save everything would take so many risks and erase so many universes in the process just to create a new one, especially with scars as proof. You don't care about saving the multiverse. You only want to redeem yourself for being unable to do anything for your world. You blame me for destroying some worlds, when what you're doing is far worse."
"Don't you dare use my world as a weapon," Astrid replied as her brooch began to burn with restrained fury.
"You say the guardians created a new multiverse because they failed to save the previous one—and you're doing the same. Creating a new reality from the ruins of the old. You regret the destruction of your world and you didn't even merge it with another. You let me seal the rift within it because you truly just wanted to forget the pain that plagued you," Elisa continued without hesitation.
"SHUT UP!" Astrid screamed, causing the entire universe around them to tremble. "I did everything possible to save my world! There wasn't a single day I didn't use the brooch to try to revive it! And now I'll never be able to recover it, and I couldn't let it be sutured with all the others—I didn't want to lose what little of it I had left, nor have its existence diluted into my new universe!"
"Then you admit it! This is nothing more than a whim! If you truly wanted to fix everything, you would have merged it as well, no matter what—but you let it fade into oblivion because you didn't want to let go!" Elisa shouted firmly, then slowly approached Astrid, who was now shedding tears, and embraced her.
"We've both suffered losses that can't be explained. And we both want to protect what remains. But we don't have to fight. Please, Astrid, let's end this—we don't have to be condemned." Elisa raised a trembling hand. "We can build something new after this… together. Universes may die someday, but they don't have to be forgotten. There will always be a part of them that never disappears. One cycle ends and a new one always begins. No world truly dies—there will always be another that lives because of it, always something engraved into the history of the multiverse."
For a moment…
A real moment…
Astrid thought about taking that hand—but just before she did, an illusion of her mother and sister appeared before her, and she remembered the path that had led her here: every tear she had shed, every body she had buried, all the pain she had endured. Living in such a world felt unthinkable—a world where she could have done more, one that could never be saved, one where tears and wishes to create something better, even out of selfishness, would be in vain.
Astrid lowered her head. She understood Elisa perfectly, but… she at least wanted to try. If there was even the slightest chance to achieve her goal, she would cling to it. She knew what she was doing now was a whim, that her plan was not perfect and had room for error—but she had already gone too far. Long ago, she had lost the chance to turn back. She would not allow the universes to remain as they were.
She had to do what she believed was right.
Her mind repeated the same phrase over and over:
No universe will end like mine did.
I will create one where no one else will die again.
Astrid smiled sadly.
"Perhaps… in another world," she whispered. "But not in this one…"
She stood up. Her brooch pulsed like an agitated star.
"I can't let you seal the last rifts. If you do… there will be no turning back."
Elisa stared in disbelief, lowering her gaze with sorrow. She truly didn't want to do this—but she wouldn't yield either.
"And I can't let you unite what was separated with such effort.
Because if you do… we won't even know what we lost."
Both stood up.
Both looked at each other with sadness.
Both knew that this instant was the last before the end.
"Do we hate each other now?" Astrid asked, without sarcasm.
"No," Elisa said. "And that's the most tragic part."
Then, the sky tore open.
The energies of the hat and the brooch rose.
Space trembled.
And with a soft, sorrowful roar, the multiverse witnessed the beginning of the final duel.