My chest could burst from joy. My reason and my purpose giggled—my favorite sound in the world. Her tiny hand squeezed my finger.

  ‘Papa!’ she exclaimed, fighting off my tickling.

  My daughter. Her weight pressed against my chest.

  From the edges, like growing frost, chilly mist blurred my view. My heart slowed down.

  The laughter turned to sobs, each one a knot tightening around my neck. The warmth faded into cold.

  Sounds died out. Except for my barely beating heart, only silence remained. The scene shattered like a broken mirror—only darkness left.

  A child’s cries echoed around me. ‘Don’t go, don’t leave, Papa!’

  A woman’s voice cut through the darkness. ‘Papa is sick…’

  The rest was swallowed by a deep thrum - resonating in my ears.

  My wife. I recognized her voice, but I couldn’t see her.

  *I'm sick?*

  I felt... nothing.

  No pain, no body. Only darkness. Nothingness.

  My thoughts were snuffed like candles, one by one.

  In the end, I was reduced to that last beat of my heart. Weak and slow, yet impossibly ongoing. Stuck. A moment that stretched to infinity.

  It could have been seconds or years; I had no way of knowing.

  Then came the voice. Soft and clear, resonating not in my ears, but inside me.

  ‘Welcome, Leonard.’

  The world split in two: blackness below and burning white above.

  ‘W-who are you? Where am I?’

  ‘I am Pandora, The Beginning and The End, Mother of All. You are in my domain, suspended between life and death.’

  "I... what?" Memories slipped before I could recollect them. "How did I get here?"

  The whiteness above wasn’t just light. It was eyes—staring down at me. The left blazed like the sun. The right gleamed like the moon.

  "The past is gone, the future is unclear. The present is here, and you have a purpose. Join my world and receive my blessing. A Guide to navigate your journey."

  My thoughts raced to make sense of it, but each one crashed before reaching a conclusion.

  "A blessing? What’s going on? I can’t see my arms or anything."

  A scream built in a throat I didn't have. To be erased, to not exist... the thought shredded me. Anything was better than this. Anything.

  "I don't know what any of that means. Just... please, wake me up. I'm scared."

  Countless stars sparkled in the blackness below—like fireworks. No, these were not stars, but a net of glaring eyes. Their gaze wrapped around me, held me tight.

  "Choose. Will you accept my grace?"

  The question erased any other thoughts. Where was the choice, actually? I tried to reason, to weigh the decision. But that glaring net of eyes, that hollow absence before Her voice came… It dissolved the logical part of me like acid.

  *No—don’t think. Don’t question. The silence is coming back, I can feel it eating at me. Just say yes. Say it NOW!*

  "Yes... Yes! I accept! Please, just wake me up!"

  "Commence."

  One word, like a command, brought a violent jolt. My body, which had been nothing, manifested as fire.

  A high-pitched tone screamed in my ears. When it broke into rhythmic pulse, my own heart found its rhythm alongside it.

  My chest heaved, desperate for air that wouldn’t come. Something had been forced out of my throat, leaving throbbing pain.

  A piercing light exploded behind my eyelids. At the same instant, a pattern burned painfully around my wrist, pulsing with a soft blip—a frantic cadence that belonged to something else.

  I gasped.

  My aching eyes snapped open, then squeezed shut against piercing brightness. My fingers twitched, brushing against… fabric? Something soft. A mattress. I was in a bed.

  The shock still lingered in my veins, and my body felt like a foreign object—heavy and unresponsive. I touched my throat, trying to ease the dull ache. My chest felt sore.

  A cool draft swept over me, and I shivered. An open window with thick, light-bending glass. Outside, the sky was pre-dawn grey.

  I closed my eyes again, trying to summon my child’s face, to hold onto that one precious memory from the dream.

  Nothing.

  A blank space where a beloved face should be. All that was left were their voices—my child’s, my wife’s.

  The rapid pulsing in my wrist settled, becoming steady. Alien. A reminder of the choice I’d made. But was it really a choice?

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Stiff muscles resisted my effort to sit upright, but I managed. The polished wood frame shifted, letting out a creak.

  "Pandora?" I asked, my voice raspy from a sore throat. I looked around.

  Stone walls and a low ceiling felt uncomfortably close, but at least they were warmed by living paintings of nature.

  On one, a flock of birds flew across the trees wavering in unseen breeze. On the other, squirel drank from the water in the fountain, raising its head to look for predators.

  The desk stood beside the opposite wall, its surface etched with a glimmering pattern.

  The only light source was a round orb buzzing quietly above it. At first I thought it was floating. Then I noticed the line—thin as a hair—holding it up.

  *Nobody here except me.*

  Hesitantly, I whispered, "P-Pandora?" The name tasted of a broken promise.

  I waited, but there was no reply. Not from Her. The only sound came from beyond the window—a sharp clang. Steel striking steel, followed by a rolling thunder.

  My wrist itched.

  Two light-grey threads wound around my wrist, intertwining like vines. They looked like a tattoo, but to the touch felt like healed scars. A transparent mark sat between the threads: the moon and sun.

  The mark started to blink rapidly. With each blink, a trace of pain rushed to different parts of my body. As the number of traces kept increasing rapidly, my whole body became a burning net.

  Countless stings reached my head and a series of memories flashed before my eyes. Too many and too fast—I couldn’t even tell if they were mine. Emotions and desires came with them, but I forgot them the moment they left.

  Then the threads around my wrist glowed faintly for a moment, and an ice-like feeling cut off all the traces.

  "There, Leonard." My heart started to calm down. "I'm sorry for this jarring experience, but the spirit summoning can be quite painful."

  "Uhm... where are you? I don't see you." I felt confused. The voice was loud and clear, like she was standing beside me, but I knew I was alone.

  “Oh, Leonard, I’m your Guide." Like a warm blanket, her voice wrapped around me.

  I was still trembling but I leaned back against the cool stone wall, closing my eyes with a sigh of relief. A part of me wanted to just stay like this, to shut down.

  But I couldn't afford to be passive. I had to understand what had just happened to me. I took a deep breath, pushing the fear down, and focused on the gentle voice. "You said you're my Guide," I prompted, my voice still raspy, "My family, Why don't I remember them?"

  "Leonard, The summoning..." Guide's voice trailed off.

  She resumed with genuine sadness. "It has left scars on your soul, on your memory. I can feel your pain..."

  "...it's heartbreaking."

  Her empathy didn't change the facts. "No," I insisted, my voice cracking. "I have to go back. I don't remember their faces, but I feel the love I've lost. I miss them. I want to go back."

  "I am a spirit of *this* world, sent by the Goddess to guide you *here*, Leonard," she explained patiently.

  *She offers help, but not the one I need.*

  *I'll have to find my way home differently.*

  *But what is this world?*

  I brought my hand up, the mark still there, just beneath the skin.

  "This is your seal, and I reside inside," the Guide explained. "I'm a part of you, but connected to everything."

  I stared at the mark, tracing its strange pattern with my thumb.

  "A seal?" I asked firmly. Why would there be a seal?

  The Guide's tone became serious. "For now, all you need to know is that the seal is to ensure boundaries separating our minds. With it you can be sure your thoughts, decisions and motivations are yours alone."

  *Boundary separating minds? And summoning scarred my memory...*

  *What was my child's name? My wife's?*

  My memory had no answers. Not even their names.

  "How can I call you?"

  "I don't have a name," she replied, "but you can grant me one, if you wish."

  "Maybe Althea?" I suggested. "I think it means 'healing'."

  *It's what I hope for-to heal my memories.*

  *Huh, there was more to the story behind that name, but what was it, exactly?*

  "It's perfect!" she exclaimed cheerfully, "Your personal Guide, Althea, is at your service!"

  Before I could reply, she warned, "your awakening has not gone unnoticed, Leonard. Someone is coming to see you. They know you're awake."

  *Someone's coming?*

  My heart shifted to higher gear.

  The distant clang of steel from beyond the window suddenly felt much closer, much more personal.

  *What's happening there, a battle?*

  I had to see for myself.

  With a deep breath, I pushed through the protesting muscles. I focused only on the chair, on the feeling of my foot inching across the cool stone floor.

  "You’re doing great," Althea encouraged, "Remember, I'm with you, you can do it."

  *If you could only help me get back home, Althea.*

  Barely balanced, I reached the chair and leaned over the desk.

  The view came into focus through the window. Beyond a tall wall, sturdy buildings rose. Simple designs, but elegant. Warm light spilled from the windows.

  Closer to me was a field with people in heavy armor. They were lined up before a dummy that had a large staff mounted on its chest, crackling with energy.

  As the first warrior stepped forward, the staff unleashed a bolt of lightning that struck his armor. The warrior rushed the dummy faster than I expected for his size. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  As I leaned further to get a better look, a sudden shout startled me, and I almost fell.

  Almost. Before I could tell what happened, a young woman rescued me from the fall, catching me.

  She seemed roughly my height. Her golden eyes kept looking down at my wrist with alarm. Her hair smelled of flowers mixed with sweat. Her breath came short and quick. Had she been running?

  She spoke frantically in a flowing language I’d never heard. Her gestures pointed to me, then back toward the bed. A drop of sweat rolled to her eyebrow.

  "What is she saying?" I asked, looking to Althea for a translation.

  There was a delay, but Althea’s voice returned, "I can tell you, but I could do much more. It would, however, require a gentle loosening of the seal's weave."

  The Guide’s voice was still cheerful.

  *But... a change to my seal?*

  My heart pounded.

  *The very thing she said was there to ensure my thoughts were my own?*

  I stared at my wrist, fingers hesitantly moving over the seal.

  "It’s a gentle adjustment... Just a little nudge so I can brush against your memories. I'll weave in a few new ones and you'll master the language in no time. You won’t have to do anything—I'll handle the rest," Althea reassured me.

  Part of me knew it made sense, but I needed a moment to weigh the decision. The woman, however, was impatient. With a firm grip, she pulled me gently back toward the bed—the bed it had taken so much effort to leave.

  *If I'm going to function in this world, I need a way to communicate freely. Waiting for Althea's translation would be a drag, and how would I even reply? Sign language? With gestures? Spending months of learning?*

  "Okay," I finally said. "Teach me, but do only that. I want to be in control, so always ask."

  "Understood, Leonard," Althea replied quieter than before. Mark blinked once-a sudden sting shot from my wrist to my head.

  My brain felt like a suitcase with too many clothes inside. New words connected with existing associations.

  The sensation vanished as quickly as it came. Then the woman’s frantic voice melted into clear, familiar words, as if they were always part of me. I observed her cautiously with my head lowered.

  Her eyes shimmered briefly. She twitched like she was hurt before the gold in her eyes switched between different colors - red, violet, grey and sickly green.

  She let out a breath she was holding, the tension in her shoulders loosened. She reached out to me and gently tilted my chin up, making me look up to her.

  "I like those eyes of yours, Otherworlder. Don't make me worry like that ever again; you need to rest." Her eyebrows, drawn together in concern, gave her a stern expression, but it couldn't hide the warmth in her eyes.

  Brown, slightly curved hair fell over her shoulders. My gaze followed it down to where it settled against her chest and the sight made my cheeks burn. I looked away quickly.

  She noticed my reaction and quickly withdrew her hand with embarrassment, her eyes settled again on the golden color.

  A wide smile broke across my face. She replied with the same.

  She pulled her hand away and reached for the pouch at her waist. She quickly opened the vial and efficiently brought it to my lips.

  "What's this?" I asked sharply, focusing on the vial.

  Her eyes widened with surprise. But she quickly restored her composure. "You need to drink this," she said, her voice now firm and clear.