Chapter 8-The Choice of Memory
821 Words
Nina stood in the dim light of the vault, her fingers grazing the Ember Stone as it hummed with quiet intensity. Around her, the air was thick — not with dust, but with decision. The elder version of herself watched silently, eyes lined with grief and wisdom, while Efe leaned against the far wall, his face hidden in shadow.
“You want me to enter his mind,” Nina repeated, voice low. “To remove the trigger.”
The elder Nina nodded. “It’s the only way to stop what’s coming. If the trigger activates, the Efe you know becomes the conduit for the full collapse. Not just your timeline — all of them.”
“But what happens to him?” Nina asked.
“If you succeed,” said her older self, “he returns to who he truly is. If you fail... he becomes theirs.”
Efe turned toward them. His eyes, always so steady, were haunted now. “What if the version of me they made... is stronger?”
Nina crossed the space between them and placed her palm gently against his cheek. “Then I’ll find you inside the strongest lie. And I’ll break it.”
A deep tremor ran through the walls, dust falling from the ceiling in tiny clouds.
“There’s not much time,” the elder Nina said. “The longer the Stone remains active without full integration, the more unstable the memory field becomes.”
She guided Nina toward a machine in the center of the room — an archaic-looking chair with copper bands and web-like wiring surrounding a glass helm. It looked like something built for dreams, or nightmares.
“You’ll use this to sync with his neural map,” the elder Nina explained. “The Ember Stone will create a temporary bridge between your consciousness and his.”
Nina turned to Efe. “You have to trust me.”
“I do,” he said softly. “Even if I don’t remember why.”
She climbed into the chair. The helm descended slowly, bathing her face in golden light. A spark jumped from the Ember Stone to the center of her forehead.
She gasped.
Then everything went still.
—
The vault faded. Her body faded. All sensations were replaced by a rushing pull, like being dragged underwater. Then light — fractured, chaotic.
She landed in a city made of mirrors.
Each building was a reflection, showing distorted scenes from Efe’s life. His childhood — running through puddles in Benin City. His teenage years — learning to fix old radios. A younger Nina — laughing on a bus, her hand brushing his.
But as she walked, the reflections began to c***k.
In one mirror, Efe turned away from her as fire consumed the bookstore.
In another, he whispered something to a shadowy figure wearing a clock mask.
In the largest mirror of all, he stood beside the Archivists, eyes glazed over, as they burned a memory of her into ash.
“Stop!” Nina shouted.
The scene froze.
“You don’t want this. I know you don’t.”
But no one responded. The silence was deafening.
Nina pressed her palm against the mirror. It rippled like water. She stepped through.
On the other side, it was nighttime. She stood in the memory of a small apartment — Efe’s old room, filled with books, tools, and drawings. A record played softly in the background.
He sat at his desk, unaware of her.
This was the real Efe. The unbroken one.
“Efe,” she whispered.
He turned.
His eyes widened.
“Nina?”
She nodded. “I came back for you.”
“But how—?”
“Shh,” she said, kneeling before him. “There’s a piece of you that’s been compromised. I need to remove it.”
He nodded slowly. “I don’t want to forget you again.”
She leaned forward, pressing her palm to the back of his neck. The Ember Stone’s glow bled into the memory.
A searing pain surged through her.
Black smoke burst from his body — twisting, screaming, forming into the figure of the Timecaster she had seen in previous memories.
It lunged at her.
Nina screamed and drove her hand into its chest, shouting, “You don’t belong here!”
The Timecaster shrieked. The illusion began to collapse.
Efe stood, reaching for her.
“Nina!”
The memory cracked.
She grabbed his hand — and pulled.
Then the world went white.
—
She awoke in the vault, gasping for air.
Efe sat beside her, dazed — but awake.
His eyes met hers. Clear. Real.
“I remember everything,” he whispered.
Tears spilled from Nina’s eyes as she clutched his hand.
But behind them, the vault’s projection flared red again.
The elder Nina stared solemnly.
“You’ve won a battle,” she said. “But the war is not yet over.”
- Writer
