Episode 1: Tomorrow’s Memory.
The first time Lyra Monroe dreamed of the end of the world, she was eight.
She stood on the edge of a burning city, skyscrapers crumbling like matchsticks and smoke coiling up to the sky like a dragon's breath. But the strange thing was—it didn't scare her. The flames licked her feet, the ground shook beneath her, and yet her heart was still. In her tiny hand, she held a silver pocket watch that ticked backward. And when she opened it, instead of numbers, it held her own name etched into the glass in a script that glowed.
Then she woke up.
But the dream returned, again and again, night after night—until it didn't feel like a dream at all.
By the time Lyra was seventeen, she had stopped questioning it. She simply called it “the memory.” Because that's what it felt like—real, inevitable, fixed. Not a nightmare, but a future she somehow already knew.
Her classmates thought she was strange. The quiet girl who stared out windows and never stayed long at any school. Her foster families called her “troubled” or “gifted,” depending on their mood. But the truth was simpler. Lyra wasn't broken—she was burdened.
Because Lyra Monroe could remember tomorrow.
She didn't know how or why. The visions came without warning. Sometimes full dreams, sometimes flashes—images, conversations, feelings. She'd write them down, fill journals with dates and words and places. And more often than not, they'd come true.
Once, she saved a woman from getting hit by a car because she had seen it happen in a “memory.” Another time, she warned her school about a gas leak that hadn't been discovered yet. The authorities called her a prodigy, a miracle, a fraud. Her foster parents moved her. Again.
Then came the day everything changed.
It was the first day of her final year in high school—school number eleven. She walked into Greenwood Academy with a hood pulled over her copper curls and eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses. She had no plans to make friends. She never stayed long enough.
But that was before she saw him.
The boy with storm-grey eyes and a smile like winter sunlight. Sitting on the school rooftop, eating an apple like he belonged to another century. When their eyes met, the world paused.
Literally.
Time stopped.
The wind froze mid-sway. A bird flapping its wings halted midair. The rustling leaves fell still in the sky.
And the boy tilted his head and smiled at her like he'd been expecting her.
"You're late," he said.
Lyra's breath caught in her throat. “Do I know you?”
He stood up, the apple falling from his hand and shattering like glass on the concrete.
“No. But you will,” he said. “Just like you always do.”
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📘 To be continued in Episode 2…
