“Why three years?” Ethan’s voice cut through the quiet, rough and unsteady, cracking with frustration. “If you have the power to bring her back, why limit it?”

  Orin’s golden gaze didn’t waver, but the weight in his eyes deepened. “Because three years is all I could give before losing everything—my purpose, my strength, and any chance of stopping him.”

  Ethan clenched his fists. “Why? What did you do?”

  Orin sighed, shoulders heavy with unspoken burdens. “I gave her a part of myself—my life force, my essence. But not everything. Not without... consequences.”

  Ethan’s voice sharpened. “What consequences?”

  Orin’s gaze darkened. “Losing the ability to finish what I came here to do. Stopping the entity that did this to her.”

  “It’s not only about Eve, Ethan. If he isn’t stopped, everyone’s life will be at risk.”

  Ethan’s breath caught. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his chair. “And the cure?” His voice trembled. “You said there’s a way to save her.”

  “There is,” Orin said quietly, his tone heavy with certainty. “Not a simple cure, but an artifact—one of the 7 Treasures of the Universe. It doesn’t just heal; it restores what was lost at its very source. It’s the only way to save her permanently.”

  Ethan’s mind raced. “If this treasure can restore her life energy, why not just find it?”

  Orin’s expression grew grim. “Obtaining it is nearly impossible. I tried—and failed. The path claims even the strongest souls.”

  Ethan’s voice hardened. “So we give up now?”

  “No,” Orin said firmly. “There’s no time. This world is rejecting me.” He paused, letting the weight sink in. “The only option is to take your place, anchor myself with your origin energy. In return, you’ll inherit my powers, my knowledge. But you’ll start from nothing.”

  Ethan’s heart pounded. “So... I go there. Alone.”

  “Yes,” Orin replied. “You’ll have to survive long enough to find the artifact. But know this—” He stepped closer, voice low. “The entity is starting over too. Weak now, but growing stronger every day after using Eve’s energy to stay here.”

  “He stole another artifact—one that feeds on life force. But no matter how much he takes, it can’t restore what’s lost. It can never give Eve her life back.”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “If you can sense him, why not track him down and finish this now?”

  Orin shook his head. “Even weakened, he’s dangerous. My priority is stopping him from growing stronger and ideally capturing him to bring back to our elderly council. Yours is saving Eve. We don’t have the luxury to wait. If he grows stronger faster than you do, none of this will matter.”

  The weight of Orin’s words settled over Ethan like a crushing tide.

  Three years.

  The silence stretched between them, heavier than the weight of the world Ethan was about to leave behind.

  Ethan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “So that’s it, then? I trade places with you... and disappear.”

  Orin’s golden eyes, filled with the weight of centuries, met his. “You won’t just disappear. You’ll be forgotten.”

  The words slammed into Ethan like a punch to the chest. Forgotten? His existence wiped clean, every shared moment with Eve erased as if it never happened. The weight of that truth settled heavily on him—colder than any death he could imagine.

  Ethan blinked, voice hoarse. “Forgotten?”

  Orin nodded. “Once the exchange is complete, the world will erase you. Every memory, every connection—you’ll fade. The closer someone was, the longer it takes. But eventually... even Eve will forget.”

  Ethan froze. The words echoed in his mind, louder than his own heartbeat. Gone. Erased. Even Eve... Even her.

  His chest tightened, breath hitching as the reality of it clawed at him. Would it be like he never existed? Would she wake up one day, passing him in her memories like a stranger in a dream?

  A cold dread coiled in Ethan’s chest. Eve. His mind screamed at the thought, but he forced his voice to stay level. “She... she won’t remember me at all?”

  “Not in time,” Orin replied quietly. “At first, her memories will blur, like a dream slipping away. And then... nothing.”

  Ethan swallowed hard, his fists clenching. “So I’ll save her... and she’ll live her life never knowing I gave mine for hers.”

  “Yes.”

  The room felt suffocating. Ethan leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to steady his breath. “Is there... no way to stop it?”

  Orin shook his head. “It’s not punishment, Ethan. It’s balance. You won’t belong to this world anymore. And in time, this world will correct that by erasing you.”

  Ethan’s voice cracked. “Even if I succeed?”

  “Even then.”

  The weight of it pressed down on him. His mother. His friends. Eve. They would all forget him. What was left of him would vanish like smoke in the wind.

  “And if I refuse?” Ethan asked, though part of him already knew the answer.

  “Then Eve’s time runs out,” Orin said bluntly. “And I get pushed out of this world. The entity goes unchecked. Your world falls.”

  Ethan’s head dropped into his hands. “So no matter what I choose... I lose everything.”

  His mind spiraled. Save Eve and vanish from her world? Or stay, helpless, and watch the time he had with her run out? Both choices felt like a death sentence—one for his heart, the other for his soul.

  Orin’s voice softened. “It’s a choice no one should have to make. But it’s yours.”

  Silence.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Ethan’s voice, fragile but determined, broke it. “If I do this... she will get to live her full life?”

  Orin’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “She’ll live. And she’ll have a chance to recover and live her full life, maybe even longer.”

  Ethan closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek. “Then that’s worth it.”

  Orin watched him quietly, the flicker of respect in his eyes unspoken but undeniable. “It won’t be easy. You and I will both become weak, near powerless at the beginning. The entity... it’s weak now too, but it won’t stay that way. We will both need to grow stronger. We cannot lose to him in growth. The moment he regains enough power, your world becomes his target.”

  Ethan stared at Orin, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “You keep saying I need to ‘grow.’ Into what?”

  Orin’s gaze remained steady, unflinching. “In Veyndral—my world—I am one of many guardians.”

  “Guardians?” Ethan echoed, narrowing his eyes.

  “Yes. Each guardian is bound to a specific aspect of existence. Mine is life force—the energy that sustains all living beings. My duty is to monitor and, when necessary, redistribute that energy to maintain balance.”

  Ethan ran a hand through his hair, disbelief etched into his face. “And you actually expect me to take on something like that?”

  “No,” Orin said quietly. “I expect you to do more.”

  Ethan’s stomach tightened. “More?”

  Orin’s expression hardened. “To save Eve, you need to surpass me. You need to become strong enough that the treasure—the one that restores origin life energy—acknowledges you as worthy.”

  The weight of Orin’s words settled over Ethan like a crushing burden. The path ahead wasn’t just difficult—it was near impossible.

  But when he thought of Eve... the choice was already made.

  Ethan’s voice was a whisper. “How do you expect me to surpass you? You’ve had years, maybe centuries, with this power. I’m just... me.”

  Orin’s golden gaze held a glimmer of something almost sympathetic. “You’re not wrong. Under normal circumstances, it would be impossible. But the world you’re going to isn’t the same one I’ve known.”

  Ethan frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Orin’s tone grew measured. “There was a time when every bit of energy in that world had a master. A balance. My brother—” his voice tightened on the word, “—was the one who governed it. He controlled the distribution, the limits, ensuring no one could take more than their share.”

  Ethan’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait... you mean the bastard who did this to Eve?”

  “Yes.” Orin’s fists clenched at his sides. “He was once the Keeper of Balance. Every spark of life, every flicker of power, passed through him. But when he broke free and abandoned his duty, the balance shattered.”

  Ethan exhaled sharply. “So, what now? Chaos?”

  “Chaos, yes,” Orin confirmed. “But also... opportunity.”

  “Opportunity?” Ethan echoed, incredulous.

  “With no keeper, the world’s energy is untamed. Every bit is there for the taking—if you’re fast enough, strong enough to seize it,” Orin explained. “That’s why you can surpass me. The energy is finite, yes, but abundant. And with every step, every battle, you can take more of it into yourself.”

  Ethan ran a hand through his hair, overwhelmed. “So... I just have to keep absorbing whatever I can?”

  Orin nodded. “It won’t be easy. Others will seek power. And the stronger you become, the more dangerous your enemies will be. But it’s your only chance.”

  Ethan’s jaw tightened. “And what about him? Your brother.”

  Orin’s eyes darkened. “He has the treasure, yes. But he’s weaker than you realize. Taking Eve’s life force anchored him to your world, but it also drained him. He’s starting from the bottom, just like us.”

  Ethan inhaled sharply. “So, he’s growing stronger too.”

  “Yes,” Orin replied grimly. “But unlike you, he has an advantage—the treasure. Every life he takes feeds him. Every moment he grows stronger.”

  Ethan felt a weight settle on his chest. “So, I’m supposed to surpass you and keep pace with him... all at once?”

  Orin gave a small, bitter smile. “Yes. Welcome to your new reality.”

  Ethan let out a shaky breath. “Great. No pressure.”

  Orin’s gaze softened, just barely. “If there were another way, I’d take it. But there isn’t.”

  Ethan nodded, the gravity of the task pressing down on him. “Then I guess living with the impossible starts now.”

  The quiet hum of the night seemed deafening in its stillness as Ethan whispered, “How am I supposed to do this? You're asking me to step into a world I know nothing about, to surpass someone like you, and to... to find this treasure that no one's ever been able to claim.”

  Orin’s golden eyes softened—just slightly. “I never said it would be easy. But you won’t be completely alone.”

  Ethan blinked at him, wary. “What do you mean?”

  Orin exhaled slowly. “When I transfer my power to you, I can’t give you everything. But I can give you two abilities to start with. The rest... you’ll have to earn.”

  Ethan leaned forward, tension knotting his muscles. “Abilities?”

  “Two core abilities,” Orin clarified. “The first is Life Detection. You’ll see the remaining lifespan of any living being. Plants, animals, humans... everything. It will be overwhelming at first, but you’ll learn to control it.”

  Ethan’s brows furrowed. “And the second?”

  “Life Redistribution,” Orin continued. “You’ll be able to take life force from one being and give it to another. Including yourself.”

  Ethan’s breath hitched. “You mean... I could take someone’s life to save someone else?”

  “Yes,” Orin answered bluntly. “But it comes with limits. At first, you’ll only be able to take from those who consent. As you grow, that restriction will loosen. But forcing it... it will come at a cost.”

  Ethan swallowed, the gravity of the abilities settling in. “And you said I wouldn’t be alone?”

  Orin gave a faint nod. “I can’t go with you. But I can leave behind a part of me.”

  Ethan’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “A fragment of my mind,” Orin explained. “A memory bank, embedded in yours. It will act as a guide. I’ll be there to answer your questions, to help you navigate the world and your powers. Not me, exactly, but a part of me. My knowledge, my experiences... everything I’ve learned.”

  Ethan let out a shaky breath. “So... you’ll be in my head?”

  “Something like that,” Orin replied. “Think of it as an interface. No complicated system, just... me, speaking to you. Guiding you when you need it.”

  Ethan closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, there was determination burning behind the exhaustion.

  “Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll do it.”

  Orin’s lips pressed into a thin line, both relief and sorrow flickering in his gaze. “Then we begin soon.”

  Ethan stood beside Eve’s bed, the soft rhythm of her breathing grounding him, yet the weight of what was to come crushed him all the same. Her hand, delicate in his grasp, felt warmer now—but only because of what Orin had done.

  It wasn’t hers. It never would be.

  His chest tightened painfully. Two days. It had only been two days since the world they knew shattered. Two days since the life they could have had together slipped through his fingers.

  Eve stirred, eyes fluttering open. Her gaze met his, and her tired smile pierced him deeper than any goodbye ever could.

  “You’re still here,” she whispered.

  Ethan forced a smile. “Yeah. Always.”

  Her lips quirked in that familiar way that made his heart ache. “Liar.”

  The word hit him harder than it should have. His throat tightened, but he kept the smile—if only for her.

  “Rest, Eve,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock from her face. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Her brows furrowed faintly. “Promise?”

  He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t lie. So he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles, letting the silence answer for him.

  She didn’t need to know. Not yet.

  As her eyes drifted shut, Ethan squeezed her hand one last time, every fiber of his being screaming to stay. But staying wasn’t an option anymore.

  “She’ll be safe,” Orin said softly from the doorway.

  Ethan exhaled sharply, nodding. “I’m holding you to that.” His voice cracked. “If anything happens to her—”

  “Nothing will.” Orin’s golden eyes gleamed with solemn promise. “Not while I’m still breathing.”

  Ethan’s voice was barely a whisper. “How do I get to your world?”

  Orin’s answer was immediate. “We return to where it all began. The place where the barrier is weakest.”

  The memory of Eve collapsing, of reality fracturing, cut through Ethan like a blade.

  “Let’s go,” Ethan said, steady despite the storm inside him.

  The night air clung to them as they stood where everything unraveled.

  “This is it,” Orin murmured.

  Ethan’s heart pounded. “What happens now?”

  Orin’s palm hovered above Ethan’s chest. “This... will hurt.”

  “Good,” Ethan replied with a faint smirk. “I was starting to wonder if you cared at all.”

  A rare chuckle escaped Orin. “Try not to scream too loud.”

  A sharp jolt surged through Ethan, stealing his breath. He collapsed—but wasn’t falling.

  He hovered, weightless, flickering—a dim orb of light.

  “This... feels weird.”

  “You get used to it,” Orin smirked.

  The glow at Orin’s fingertips intensified as knowledge flooded Ethan’s mind.

  “Stay hidden,” Orin whispered. “If you fail, you die. And so will she.”

  The rift opened, pulling Ethan toward the unknown.

  “She’ll be okay?”

  Orin nodded. “I’ll protect her.”

  “I’m trusting you.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  The void wrapped around him, cold and infinite.

  “Ethan,” Orin called softly, “don’t lose yourself out there.”

  “I won’t. Not while she’s waiting.”