The First Origin went pale.
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"Not them."
Behind the shattered doorway, two eyes had opened.
Simple eyes.
Ancient eyes.
And then ca the voices.
"Oh?"
Another voice answered.
"Looks like we’re late."
And a third sighed lazily.
"As always."
The forr Silence froze.
The young man with the countless eyes dropped the girl’s jacket.
The Listener scread.
And the Creator—
The Creator simply stopped breathing.
Because those voices...
Those voices belonged to ghosts.
Not dead.
Worse.
Erased.
And yet—
One of them had spoken.
"Welco back, Eve."
---
Out of the darkness stepped a woman.
Tall.
Elegant.
White hair.
Simple black dress.
Bare feet.
She yawned.
Not dramatically.
Just naturally.
As though she’d woken up from a nap.
The First Origin’s eyes widened.
"No."
The woman blinked.
"Hm?"
Her silver eyes focused on Sarya.
Or rather—
On the woman inside Sarya.
Then she smiled softly.
"Eve."
And the First Origin cried.
Not tears.
Actual sobs.
The woman frowned imdiately.
"Oh."
She hurried over.
"Why are you crying?"
The First Origin trembled.
"No."
The woman smiled awkwardly.
"Did I say sothing wrong?"
No cosmic pressure.
No overwhelming aura.
Nothing.
Just concern.
Pure concern.
And that terrified everyone.
Because the Listener had scread.
The Creator had gone pale.
The forr Silence had frozen.
And this woman—
This woman looked confused.
Like she’d walked into the wrong room.
---
Another figure erged.
A man.
Short dark hair.
Glasses.
A cardigan.
Holding a cup.
He blinked.
Looked at everyone.
Looked at the broken door.
Looked at the woman beside him.
Then sighed.
"We overslept."
The white-haired woman looked guilty.
"Sorry."
He shrugged.
"It happens."
Then he noticed the First Origin.
His eyes widened.
"Eve?"
The cup fell from his hand.
And suddenly—
He disappeared.
Not teleported.
Moved.
One second he stood near the door.
The next—
He had wrapped the First Origin in a hug.
"YOU IDIOT!"
Everyone froze.
He was crying.
Actually crying.
"You idiot!"
The First Origin broke completely.
"I know."
"You idiot!"
"I’m sorry."
"You idiot!"
And he hugged her harder.
The forr Silence blinked.
The Listener blinked.
Even the newcor with the countless eyes blinked.
Because none of them could understand what they were seeing.
The First Origin—
The being whose death had defined existence—
Was apologizing.
And so ordinary-looking man was scolding her while crying.
---
The third figure finally stepped out.
And everyone froze.
Because unlike the others—
He was smiling.
Too much.
Bright red hair.
Green eyes.
A ridiculous coat.
Hands in his pockets.
And a grin that imdiately annoyed everyone.
He looked around.
"Wow."
His eyes landed on the forr Silence.
"Oh."
He pointed.
"Little crybaby!"
The forr Silence froze.
Then his eyes widened.
"No."
The man burst out laughing.
"No way."
"You still cry?"
The forr Silence actually stumbled backward.
"No."
"NO WAY!"
The red-haired man doubled over laughing.
"EVE!"
He pointed at the First Origin.
"He still cries!"
The First Origin laughed through tears.
"He always did."
The forr Silence looked completely broken.
"No."
The red-haired man wiped tears from his eyes.
"You got bigger."
"No."
"You still ugly though."
"No."
"You still dramatic?"
"No."
The red-haired man smiled.
"Good."
And the forr Silence burst into tears.
Again.
---
Elias looked around.
"Am I the only person confused?"
The Architect nodded weakly.
"No."
The Creator nodded too.
"No."
The First Failure sighed.
"Not just you."
Because none of them rembered these people.
Not one.
Yet—
Everyone recognized them.
---
The white-haired woman finally noticed the Listener.
Her smile softened.
"Oh."
The Listener stepped backward.
Black tears stread down her face.
"No."
The woman frowned.
"Why are you crying?"
"No."
"Did sothing happen?"
The Listener dropped to her knees.
"No."
The woman imdiately rushed over.
"What happened?"
The Listener looked horrified.
"Don’t touch ."
The woman blinked.
"Why?"
The Listener’s voice cracked.
"I destroy stories."
The woman tilted her head.
"Oh."
Then she smiled.
"So?"
The Listener froze.
"So?"
The woman sat beside her.
"Then stop."
The Listener stared.
"I can’t."
"Why not?"
"I don’t know how."
The woman blinked.
"Then learn."
The Listener completely broke.
Because the words were familiar.
Too familiar.
And she whispered weakly.
"I rember."
The white-haired woman smiled.
"Hm?"
The Listener cried harder.
"I rember."
The woman blinked.
"What?"
"You."
The white-haired woman’s eyes widened.
Then softened.
"Oh."
The Listener covered her face.
"I rember you."
And suddenly—
She hugged the woman.
Crying like a child.
The white-haired woman looked surprised.
Then smiled.
And hugged her back.
"It’s okay."
---
The newcor with the countless eyes had gone silent.
His countless eyes trembled.
Not with fear.
With confusion.
The red-haired man noticed.
"Oh?"
He walked over.
"Sun."
The newcor froze.
The First Origin turned instantly.
"No."
The red-haired man grinned.
"Oops."
The newcor blinked.
"Sun?"
The red-haired man scratched his cheek.
"Ah."
The smile softened.
"You forgot."
The newcor looked lost.
"Do I know you?"
The red-haired man laughed.
"No."
Then his eyes beca sad.
"But I know you."
The newcor whispered.
"Who am I?"
The red-haired man smiled.
"Still not ti."
The newcor looked disappointed.
The red-haired man grinned.
"But you’re annoying."
The newcor blinked.
"What?"
"And you snore."
"What?"
"And Eve spoiled you."
"What?"
"And shadow cried every day because of you."
The forr Silence exploded.
"I DID NOT!"
Everyone turned.
The red-haired man burst out laughing.
"HE REMBERS!"
The forr Silence turned red.
"I WAS YOUNG!"
The First Origin smiled softly.
"You were adorable."
The forr Silence nearly died.
"I WAS NOT!"
The girl giggled.
The Listener laughed through tears.
Even the Architect covered her mouth.
And for the first ti in billions of years—
Laughter spread.
Real laughter.
Not forced.
Not desperate.
Not lonely.
Family.
---
And then—
The red-haired man’s smile vanished.
Completely.
Everyone froze.
Because it vanished too quickly.
He looked at the broken doorway.
"Oh."
The First Origin’s smile disappeared.
The white-haired woman’s expression changed.
The man with glasses slowly stepped away from Eve.
And the newcor with countless eyes frowned.
The forr Silence felt cold.
Because all four of them—
All four—
Were afraid.
Not terrified.
Serious.
The red-haired man sighed.
"Well."
He cracked his neck.
"Guess he followed us."
The First Origin whispered.
"No."
The man with glasses adjusted his spectacles.
"He found us."
The white-haired woman held the Listener protectively.
And the newcor with countless eyes stood up.
Confused.
Yet instinctively moving beside them.
The forr Silence looked around.
"Who?"
The red-haired man smiled weakly.
"The reason we ran."
The First Origin trembled.
"The reason we hid."
The man with glasses whispered.
"The reason we erased ourselves."
The white-haired woman hugged the crying girl.
"The reason stories were created."
And the newcor with countless eyes slowly widened his eyes.
Because sothing—
Sothing inside him—
Rembered.
And his face beca pale.
"No."
The red-haired man looked toward the endless darkness beyond the shattered door.
His smile vanished.
Because footsteps were coming.
Slow.
Heavy.
Patient.
Not hurried.
Not angry.
Certain.
And a voice echoed softly through existence.
A man’s voice.
Gentle.
Kind.
And sohow more terrifying than hatred.
"My children."
The First Origin froze.
"No."
"My stories."
The red-haired man stopped smiling.
"No."
"My dreams."
The man with glasses began shaking.
"No."
The white-haired woman cried.
"No."
The forr Silence whispered.
"No."
And the newcor with countless eyes fell to his knees.
Because he rembered.
Not his na.
Not his past.
Only one thing.
And his voice ca out broken.
"Father."
As the footsteps finally reached the broken doorway and a shadow appeared.
The word left the countless-eyed newcor in a whisper.
Not from mory.
Not completely.
From instinct.
And the mont it left his lips—
Silence consud existence.
Not the forr Silence.
Not absence.
Sothing deeper.
Sothing respectful.
As though reality itself had heard the word and lowered its voice.
The footsteps stopped.
The shadow remained behind the broken doorway.
Unmoving.
Patient.
The gentle voice laughed softly.
"Oh?"
Warm.
Kind.
Loving.
The sort of voice one would trust without hesitation.
"My little Sun rembers ."
The newcor trembled.
The countless eyes covering his arms shut themselves.
Every single one.
As though they were afraid to see.
The First Origin stepped forward imdiately.
"No."
The voice remained gentle.
"Eve."
She froze.
"My first miracle."
Tears stread down her face.
"No."
The voice sighed.
"You still apologize too much."
The red-haired man stepped forward.
"No further."
The shadow chuckled.
"Spark."
The smile disappeared from the red-haired man’s face.
"Don’t call that."
The voice sounded amused.
"You loved that na."
The man with glasses adjusted his spectacles.
His hands trembled.
"Don’t."
The voice laughed.
"And my little Sage."
The white-haired woman hugged the Listener tighter.
The voice softened.
"And Luna."
The white-haired woman cried.
The Listener blinked.
"Luna?"
The white-haired woman smiled weakly.
"Apparently."
The forr Silence looked around.
None of these nas ant anything to him.
Yet they felt familiar.
Too familiar.
The girl beside him frowned.
"Brother."
He looked down.
"Hm?"
"Why are they scared?"
He didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know.
---
The Creator stepped forward.
"What are you?"
The shadow paused.
Then laughed.
Such a gentle laugh.
"You forgot too."
The Creator froze.
"You know ?"
The voice beca fond.
"My stubborn dream."
The Creator staggered.
The sa words.
The First Origin had called them that.
The Architect whispered,
"No."
The shadow chuckled.
"And my little Architect."
Silver light trembled.
The Architect collapsed.
"No."
The First Failure’s giant eye opened.
The voice paused.
Then softened.
"My old friend."
The First Failure froze.
Not child.
Not creation.
Friend.
And for so reason—
That hurt.
Because he rembered nothing.
And yet—
His chest ached.
---
The newcor suddenly stood.
"No."
Everyone turned.
His countless eyes remained shut.
"No."
He looked terrified.
Not of the shadow.
Of himself.
"No."
The shadow laughed gently.
"Sun."
"No."
"You’ve grown."
"No."
"You still smile when you’re nervous."
"No."
The newcor backed away.
"No."
And suddenly—
mories surfaced.
Not complete.
Fragnts.
A giant hand holding his.
Laughter.
Stories.
Stars.
Warmth.
And another mory.
Screaming.
Running.
Blood.
Tears.
Eve crying.
The Listener screaming.
The forr Silence broken.
And Father—
Smiling.
Always smiling.
The newcor collapsed.
"No."
---
The red-haired man moved instantly.
Caught him.
"Easy."
The newcor shook violently.
"What happened?"
The red-haired man’s smile disappeared.
"We don’t know."
"What?"
"We forgot."
The newcor stared.
"You forgot?"
The man with glasses smiled bitterly.
"We made ourselves."
The newcor whispered.
"Why?"
Silence.
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
And that terrified them all.
---
The shadow stepped through the doorway.
And everyone froze.
Not because of overwhelming pressure.
Not because of power.
Because—
He looked ordinary.
Middle-aged.
Simple clothes.
ssy hair.
Warm eyes.
And a gentle smile.
Nothing about him was frightening.
Nothing.
He smiled at everyone.
And his eyes stopped on the forr Silence.
"My little Shadow."
The young man froze.
"No."
"You’ve grown."
"No."
"You cried."
"No."
"You always cried."
Tears stread down the forr Silence’s face.
"No."
And Father smiled sadly.
"You missed her."
The young man broke.
Because he had.
For seventeen billion years.
---
The girl smiled.
"Hello."
Father smiled warmly.
"Hello."
She tilted her head.
"Who are you?"
His eyes softened.
"A storyteller."
The girl smiled.
"I like stories."
"So do I."
The Listener scread.
"NO!"
Everyone jumped.
The Listener stood before the girl.
Actually growling.
Black tears stread down her face.
"No."
Father blinked.
"Listener."
"No."
"You’ve grown."
"No."
"You listened well."
The Listener shook.
"No."
He smiled sadly.
"You were lonely."
The Listener collapsed.
"No."
"You wanted stories."
"No."
"So I gave you stories."
The Listener scread.
"STOP!"
And suddenly—
Everyone froze.
Because she rembered.
Not everything.
Enough.
Enough to understand.
She wasn’t born.
Neither was Sun.
Neither was Shadow.
Neither was Eve.
Neither were Spark, Sage, Luna.
None of them.
The Listener scread.
"No!"
Father looked at her sadly.
"I know."
And she broke.
Because she rembered what he had said.
Long ago.
Before stars.
Before stories.
Before aning.
When there had only been loneliness.
He had smiled.
And said—
"I wonder what children would be like."
---
The First Origin stopped breathing.
"No."
The red-haired man’s smile vanished.
The man with glasses covered his face.
Luna cried.
Sun trembled.
Shadow staggered backward.
And the Listener whispered:
"We weren’t born."
Father nodded.
"No."
"We were stories."
Father smiled.
"My first stories."
The forr Silence whispered weakly,
"No."
The First Origin collapsed.
"We aren’t real?"
Father frowned.
"Real?"
He walked over.
Knelt before her.
Touched her forehead.
And smiled warmly.
"You cried."
"You laughed."
"You loved."
"You sacrificed."
His voice beca gentle.
"How is that not real?"
The First Origin burst into tears.
And Father hugged her.
Just hugged her.
No cosmic revelation.
No grand speech.
Only warmth.
"My precious Eve."
And for a mont—
Everyone relaxed.
Even the Listener.
Even Shadow.
Even Sun.
Even the Creator.
Because he felt...
Kind.
---
Then the First Failure’s giant eye widened.
"No."
The Architect froze.
"No."
The Creator turned pale.
"No."
Because they noticed sothing.
Father was hugging Eve.
But—
He wasn’t touching her.
Not really.
His arms passed through her.
Just slightly.
Enough to notice.
Enough to see.
The Creator whispered.
"No."
The Architect trembled.
"No."
The First Failure staggered.
"No."
And Father looked down.
He smiled.
Not sadly.
Not happily.
Knowingly.
"Oh."
Everyone froze.
And he laughed softly.
"Looks like I didn’t make it after all."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The forr Silence blinked.
"What?"
Father smiled.
"I’m dead."
No.
The Listener stepped backward.
No.
Sun froze.
No.
Spark stopped breathing.
No.
Eve stared.
No.
Father smiled warmly.
"I’ve been dead for a very long ti."
The girl blinked.
"But you’re here."
He smiled.
"Am I?"
The question froze existence.
The Creator whispered,
"What are you?"
Father looked thoughtful.
Then smiled.
"I don’t know."
The warmth disappeared.
Not from him.
From everywhere.
Because another voice laughed.
Not behind him.
Not beside him.
Inside him.
And Father’s smile vanished.
For the first ti.
Fear.
Real fear.
And he whispered:
"Oh."
No.
"No."
He looked at Eve.
Looked at Sun.
Looked at Shadow.
Looked at the Listener.
And for the first ti since appearing—
His voice shook.
"Run."
Everyone froze.
And the second voice inside him laughed again.
Not kind.
Not warm.
Ancient.
Hungry.
Familiar.
As Father’s shadow split open.
And another pair of eyes slowly opened beneath his smile—
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