The Axis Tower was usually a place for silence. Today, it was echoing with the sound of Elian trying to catch his breath.
He burst through the heavy steel door, stumbling onto the roof. He didn't laugh. He didn't cheer. He collapsed against a vent pipe, sliding down until he hit the gravel, burying his face in his knees. His hands were shaking violently.
"I'm dead," Elian muffled into his jeans. "I am actually dead."
Lyra drifted through the door. She wasn't manic or cheering. She floated over quietly and sat on the vent pipe next to him. She watched him shake.
"You're not dead," she said softly. "You're just... un-invisible."
Elian looked up. His face was pale. "I humiliated Jason. His mother is the Dean. I'm going to get expelled. My parents are going to get the call. It's over."
"Elian."
"I ruined the only thing I was good at!" Elian's voice cracked. "Being invisible. Being the good kid. Now I'm just... a mess."
"Elian, look at me."
He looked at her. The ghost girl with the eyes that had seen everything.
"You have like 28 days," she said. Her voice wasn't playful. It was heavy facts. "In 28 days, the Dean won't matter. Your parents' disappointment won't matter. Jason won't matter."
She leaned down.
"Do you want to spend your last month apologizing for being alive? Or do you want to actually use the time?"
Elian stared at her. The panic slowly began to recede, replaced by the cold, hard reality of the math. 28 days. He looked at his shaking hands. For 18 years, he had held his breath, waiting for permission to exist. He wasn't going to get it.
"I don't know how," Elian whispered. "I don't know how to... not be me."
Lyra smiled. It was a small, gentle smile. "That's why I'm here."
Elian wiped his face with his sleeve. He reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook. His hands were still trembling, but he opened it to a blank page.
"What are you doing?" Lyra asked, floating closer.
"I need a plan," Elian muttered. "If I'm not going to school... I need something to do. Or I'll just sit in my room and wait to die."
He wrote: THINGS TO DO.
He stared at the paper. The white space felt huge and intimidating. What did he want? He didn't even know. He had spent so long doing what he should do, he forgot what he liked to do.
"Help me," Elian said, looking up at her. It was an admission of defeat. "I don't know what to write."
Lyra looked at the paper. She tapped her chin. "Well... what scared you before? Besides everything?"
Elian thought. "Heights."
"Okay." She pointed. "Write Bungee Jumping."
Elian winced. "Really?"
"Really. You need to scream, Elian. You have too much quiet inside you."
He wrote it down. 1. Bungee Jumping.
"What else?" Lyra asked. "What's something you always stared at but never touched?"
"The cake," Elian said instantly.
"The 'Death by Chocolate' at the bakery. It costs ₹500." "Write it. We're eating it."
He wrote it down. 2. Eat the Death Cake.
"Now something stupid," Lyra said. "Something that makes no sense."
"I don't do stupid."
"That's the problem! You're too logical. Write... Steal a Traffic Cone."
Elian looked at her like she was crazy. "Why a traffic cone?"
"Because it's orange. And it belongs to the city. Take it back."
Elian let out a short, dry laugh. It sounded rusty. "Fine." 3. Steal a Traffic Cone.
The list grew slowly. 4. Spicy Noodle Challenge.5. Ride a shopping cart.6. Crash a Wedding.
Elian looked at the list. It wasn't just a list of activities. It was a list of things a normal, messy, happy teenager would do. Things he had denied himself.
He hesitated. The pen hovered over the paper. "There's one more," he whispered.
Lyra went quiet. She sensed the shift in the air. "What is it?"
"My parents," Elian said. He didn't write it down yet. "We don't talk. Not really. I think... I think they're waiting for me to leave so they can be happy."
Lyra's expression softened. She floated down until she was sitting on the gravel next to him. "They aren't," she said firmly. "But silence is heavy, Elian. It builds walls."
"I have to fix it," Elian whispered. "Before I go. I can't leave them with the silence."
He wrote it down. The ink looked darker than the rest. 7. Fix things with Mom and Dad.
He closed the notebook. He felt exhausted. Drained. "That's a lot," he said.
"We have time," Lyra said.
Elian looked at her. "Lyra?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you doing this?"
She didn't give him a sassy answer this time. She didn't say she was bored. She looked at the horizon, where the sun was starting to dip. "Because," she said softly. "It's sad to watch a book end before the story even starts."
She looked back at him. "I want to see your story, Elian. I want to see the chapters you skipped."
Elian felt a lump in his throat. He realized, for the first time, that he wasn't just a job to her. And she wasn't just a hallucination to him. She was the witness he had always wanted.
"Okay," Elian whispered. "Let's write the chapters."
He stood up. He offered his hand, not to shake, but just to acknowledge her. "Partners?"
Lyra looked at his hand. She smiled, a real, warm smile that reached her eyes. She placed her transparent hand over his. He felt the cold tickle of her energy. "Partners."
Elian picked up his bag. The weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter. "Let's go," he said. "I think I saw a traffic cone on 5th Street."