Bruni’s POV

  I blinked.

  The world around me swirled, strugglin’ ta sharpen into focus. Me breath hitched. Me heart pounded against me ribs.

  Lara?

  That couldn't be right. She was… gone. Wasn’t she?

  Yet, there she stood. Standin’. Breathin’. Alive.

  Me mind reeled, memories crashin’ over me like an unrelentin’ tide—her laughter, her dreams, the future she wove so carefully. I’d dedicated meself to those dreams, carryin’ ’em like fragile glass, afraid they’d shatter if I faltered. Even after she was gone, I kept her vision alive, tellin’ meself that as long as I did, a part of her remained wi’ me.

  But this? This was somethin’ else. Somethin’ that made me very soul tremble.

  Flashback: Year 11100

  "Yer goin’ too far, Auntie! What d’ye mean by preservin’ yerself—puttin’ yerself ta sleep?"

  Herkren’s voice was sharp, thick wi’ frustration.

  I barely looked up. Me hands continued their delicate work, fingers pressin’ against the smooth, shimmerin’ material of the coffin. It weren’t just any coffin—it was infused with an ancient power, meant ta preserve me till the time was right. Till I could see her again.

  "It’s me wish," I murmured, smoothin’ a hand over the surface. A silent promise.

  "Auntie, ye’ve already lost one arm! Ye can’t keep doin’ this ta yerself!" Herkren’s voice cracked wi’ somethin’ dangerously close to fear.

  I exhaled slowly. "It ain’t a mess, Herkren. It’s fer the best."

  "For the best? Yer literally puttin’ yerself in a coffin!"

  "Preservin’," I corrected.

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  "That’s ridiculous!"

  Her frustration pressed against me like a weight, but I didn’t waver. I couldn’t. The elf who came ta me promised there was a way. A chance. If there was even the smallest possibility of seein’ Lara again—of sayin’ everythin’ I never had the chance ta say—I’d take it.

  "Let her be," Kraken’s voice cut through the argument, calm as always. He had always been the anchor in our storm, the steady presence when emotions ran too high.

  "How can ye be so calm?! Auntie’s makin’ herself a prisoner!"

  "I ain’t a prisoner," I whispered, me fingers tracn’ the coffin’s edges. "I just… need ta see her one last time."

  I needed ta tell her.

  I needed her ta know.

  Flashback of a Flashback

  "Here. This is what ye wanted."

  Lara’s eyes sparkled as she placed the shimmerin’ Level Z item in me hands. The energy pulsed, warm and alive, like it held a heartbeat of its own.

  "Ye keep givin’ me things," I muttered. "Don’t ye think this is ridiculous?"

  She laughed. That laugh—bright, unburdened.

  "Ridiculous? Nothin’ is ridiculous, Bruni. Ye create the most wonderful things. Why stop now?"

  The breeze carried the scent of flowers, mixin’ wi’ her laughter, and for a moment, it was just us. Two minds tangled in endless possibilities.

  "Ye know, I have ideas of me own," she mused, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  "Oh? Should I be worried?"

  "Not at all! But listen—have ye heard of a gun?"

  I blinked. "A what?"

  "Think of it as a small cannon." She gestured animatedly, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  Her ideas always sounded absurd at first. But when I pieced ’em together, they became somethin’ extraordinary. She saw the world differently—saw possibilities where others saw impossibilities.

  "I can give ye all the Level Z items ye want, as long as ye keep inventin’," she said. "Do what makes ye happy, Bruni. Don’t let anythin’ stand in yer way."

  She had always believed in me. Even when I doubted meself.

  The Battlefield

  Screams. Clashin’ steel. The scent of blood thick in the air.

  I moved through the chaos, heart hammerin’, pushin’ past the fallen, eyes scanin’ desperately.

  Lara, where are ye?

  Panic curled inside me, sharp and suffocatin’.

  Then, I saw her.

  No.

  The world fell silent.

  She lay among the fallen, her dress—once so vibrant—stained wi’ dirt and blood. The light in her eyes was gone.

  I stumbled forward, knees hittin’ the ground. Me fingers trembled as I reached for her hand—cold. Lifeless.

  A choked sob tore from me throat.

  "No… no, Lara!"

  The battle raged on around us, but I couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t feel anythin’ except the hollow space where she had been.

  I was too late.

  We were supposed ta face everythin’ together.

  I was supposed ta protect her.

  But she was gone.

  \End of Flashback

  I looked at her now, standin’ before me. Alive. Real.

  Tears burned behind me eyes. Me hands shook.

  "Lara…?" Me voice cracked.

  Because if this was real—if this weren’t a cruel trick of fate—then I had been given somethin’ I never thought possible.

  A second chance.

  Trust me — it’s NOT a mistake. ??

  It’s all part of the master plan.

  (Which even I, the supposed mastermind, am currently trying to understand while holding an emotional support coffee.) ???

  ABSOLUTELY.

  Did I plan for it?

  ...No.

  But am I rolling with it like an unhinged tumbleweed in a desert of confusion?

  YOU BET I AM. ????

  Everything is under control. (This is a bigger lie.)

  Everything is chaos and we’re thriving. (Now this is the truth.)

  Stay strong. Stay confused. Stay iconic. ?