The university library's Rare Texts section was silent, bathed in the cool, filtered light of the afternoon. Aaron inhaled the scent here—the dry, comforting aroma of paper and history, unmarred by the magical ink he once knew.
He approached Alina alone, leaving Aurora, Anirudh, Abhimanyu, and Ameya waiting discreetly by the circulation desk. Alina was seated at an antique wooden table, surrounded by stacks of obscure, leather-bound volumes.
"Alina," he said quietly.
Her pen paused mid-stroke. She didn't look up, her voice low and perfectly calm. "Hello, Aaron. I knew you'd come. The sparrow was efficient, wasn't it?"
Aaron sat across from her and placed the silver locket on the table. "Why? Why the note? Why Aurora? Why did you retain the memory when I erased it for both of us?"
Alina finally lifted her gaze. Her eyes held a profound sorrow that mirrored his own.
"You made a mistake, Aaron. A profound, noble mistake," Alina said. "When you destroyed the notebook, you eliminated the instrument, but not the paradox."
She leaned forward. "The true catalyst was the unbreakable link between you and Audrey. That connection became a knot of consciousness that, when you severed it, didn't vanish. Your immense, selfless sorrow propelled a piece of that original reality, the locket, into this new timeline."
"But why do you remember?"
"I was close to the energy source. I was collateral damage," Alina explained, touching her temple. "When you erased that reality, the timeline split me in two. I retained the full knowledge. The memories are a constant, agonizing hum."
"And that's where Aurora comes in."
"Yes. After you left, I started charting the debris field. You were alone, haunted, spiraling toward collapse. Then Aurora appeared," Alina said, glancing toward the waiting figure. "She is a clean slate. I didn't write the note to reunite you with Audrey; I wrote it to anchor you in the present."
She picked up the locket. "The locket is the past. The faded note inside is a warning—a reminder of the cost. The blue-ink note to Aurora is the future. I provided the map, but you must choose the destination."
"You want me to move on," Aaron stated.
"I want you to live," Alina corrected firmly. "Timeline Alpha still exists. Audrey still exists, in a life where you never loved her and where she is still susceptible to fate. But your mission, Aaron, is over. Your greatest duty now is to ensure your consciousness finds peace. You did your part."
Alina pushed the locket back toward him. "Keep it. It's your compass. It points to the truth, and right now, the truth is that Aurora is your chance at a life that isn't written in fatal ink."
She picked up her transcription scroll. "Go. Stop looking backward. Your friends are waiting. And I have centuries of forgotten history to catalogue."
Aaron stood, filled with a sense of finality. He walked back to the circulation desk, ready to choose the life he could create, not the one he had fought to save.