The world was still.For the first time in what felt like years, the ink storm was gone. No whispers. No tearing sky. Just the slow rhythm of his breathing and the faint hum of light returning to the air.
Lucien walked across the empty classroom — or what was left of it.Desks floated in the air like broken memories, books hung half-open, their words flickering faintly.But near the center, a single chair remained untouched.
Sera sat there.Head bowed, hair falling over her shoulders, her fingers tracing the cracks in the floor. When she lifted her eyes, Lucien felt his chest tighten — they were red from crying, but still the same soft brown that had once made his world brighter.
"You found me," she said quietly.
Lucien stopped a few steps away. "You said I shouldn't open it alone."
"I hoped you wouldn't," she whispered. "But you always do."
He almost smiled. "Some habits die hard."
She stood slowly. The light around her shimmered, as if the story itself hesitated to touch her.Lucien could see it — the faint line of text circling her wrist, a mark of rewritten fate.
"Do you know what this place is?" she asked.
He looked around. "Our classroom… before it all began."
"No," she said softly. "It's the space between stories. Where endings and beginnings blur. You shouldn't be here."
Lucien stepped closer. "Then where should I be? In someone else's ending?"
Sera shook her head. "You were supposed to die, Lucien. That's how the story was written."
He smiled sadly. "And yet, here I am."
She took a step toward him. "You changed everything when you refused to die. The Author's world began collapsing because you wanted more than what was written."
"I wanted you," he said.
Her breath caught. For a moment, she couldn't meet his eyes. "And because of that… I became real too."
He reached out, touching her cheek. His hand trembled slightly — half afraid she'd vanish again.But she didn't. She leaned into his touch, eyes glimmering with both warmth and sorrow.
"You fought the Quill," she murmured. "You shouldn't have survived."
"I didn't survive because I was strong," Lucien said. "I survived because I couldn't let you be erased."
Sera smiled faintly, but tears slipped down her face. "If you hold me, the world might end."
"Then let it end."
He pulled her into his arms.
For a long time, neither spoke.The world around them shifted — fragments of words melted into petals, falling softly like snow. Every petal carried a sentence that once belonged to the story: battles, betrayals, love, pain.Now, all that remained was them.
She whispered against his chest, "Do you think we were ever real?"
Lucien's voice was barely a breath. "Real enough to hurt. Real enough to choose."
She laughed softly, her voice trembling. "You always say the wrong thing the right way."
He looked down at her. "And you always save me when I least deserve it."
The silence that followed was peaceful — fragile but alive.Lucien closed his eyes, memorizing the warmth, the scent of her hair, the steady rhythm of her heart.He wanted to stay there forever, but somewhere behind them, something pulsed — a sound like a page turning.
The Door.
Sera looked up, her face tightening. "It's calling you."
Lucien nodded. "I know."
She touched his chest lightly. "Beyond that door lies truth. Maybe… our last one."
"Then I'll walk through," he said. "But not without you."
Her eyes widened. "Lucien—"
He smiled. "If I was rewritten once, I can do it again. This time, with you."
The world around them began to dissolve — walls fading into light, desks into stars.The only thing left was the Door — tall, silver, glowing with countless words engraved on its surface.
Lucien reached for her hand.
"Together?" he asked.
Sera hesitated, then smiled through her tears. "Together."
Their fingers intertwined.The door creaked open — a flood of blinding light spilling through, filled with echoes of voices and memories.Lucien squeezed her hand once more, whispering, "No matter what's written, I'll find you."
They stepped forward.And the Door closed behind them.