Kean stumbles back from the pillar, clutching his head. The headache is immediate and sharp, a strange, high-pitched ringing that feels deeper than his ears. His Aunt Divine is immediately by his side, concern etched across her face.
"Kean! what happened? You look pale," Divine asks, steadying him.
Kean forces a shaky smile, trying to dismiss the panic rising in his throat. He can still see the white and blue lights of the SEA Mall Ferris wheel, exactly where he left it.
"Just... just a sudden migraine, Aunt. I think maybe the heat and the crowds, you know? The emergency I had was just sudden dizziness. I just need to rest."
Divine, a kind and practical woman, doesn't press. "Of course. My unit here in Manila is free. We'll head there now. A cold shower and a nap will fix you right up."
As they walk, Kean subtly checks his phone. The Lityear app still has a glowing notification. He taps it open.
FROM: Tobie
> I saw the visual feedback. The energetic interference was acute. It confirms the dimensional gap. Do not attempt contact again. I have the answers you need.
Kean stares at the message. Who is Tobie? And what interference? The term "dimensional gap" sends a fresh wave of anxiety through him. He closes the app, resolving to deal with the terrifying message later, once he's alone and his head stops throbbing.
Kaye experiences the mirror of the event. She is resting at the lounge, the memory of her video call showing the white and blue Ferris wheel still vivid. The dizziness is a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.
Her Aunt Rowena looking concerned. "Kaye, what really happened? Are you okay now? I'm worried, you look so pale. Did the meeting go badly? Is he okay?"
Kaye shakes her head, feeling confusion cloud her voice. "I... I'm sorry, Aunt. But he couldn't make it. Something serious came up, a quick emergency. I just need to get home to Baguio. I feel too sick to stay here."
Rowena helps Kaye gather her things. "That's fine, darling. We'll get the first bus back to Baguio. Grandma will look after you."
During the long, silent ride home, Kaye opens Lityear. The message from the unknown sender is there, cold and clinical.
> FROM: Tobie
> I saw the visual feedback. The energetic interference was acute. It confirms the dimensional gap. Do not attempt contact again. I have the answers you need.
Kaye frowns. "Dimensional gap?" She closes the app. The confusion, the headache, and the absolute failure of the meeting are overwhelming. She needs the quiet of her Lola's house in Baguio to process this new, alarming layer of mystery.
Later That Evening.
Kean is settled in his aunt's Manila unit, and Kaye is back at her grandma's home in Baguio. Both are in bed, still shaken, but now finally alone with their phones.
Kean opens the chat and types, the digital distance once again their only refuge.
KEAN:
Kaye, are you okay? I've never felt a headache like that. What happened at your end? And please tell me you saw the message from 'Tobie' too. Who is that? And why does he know we tried to meet?
Kaye sees his message and feels a wave of relief that he's safe, immediately followed by the fear that he's as confused as she is.
KAYE:
I'm fine now, Kean, just wiped out. I was so dizzy I almost threw up on the way home. The message from Tobie... yes. I don't know who he is, but he's talking about 'interference' and a 'dimensional gap.' Did you see the Ferris wheel, Kean? What color was it? I saw white and yellow, and I know for a fact that mall only uses white and yellow lights
Kean stares at her message. White and yellow. That confirms his suspicion.
KEAN:
I saw white and blue, Kaye. I saw the normal Ferris wheel. You saw a different one. It was exactly like you said. This isn't just a long distance. This is something else. We need to know who Tobie is, because he knows what happened. Did he tell you how to reply?
Before Kaye can reply, the Lityear app chimes with a third message, directly addressing their conversation.
FROM: Tobie
> I am the one who built this bridge, and I see everything that passes over it. It is not distance that separates you. It is a light-years of paradoxical space. If you want the truth—and the chance to truly meet—download the file attached below. You will only get one chance.
[Attached File: Project_Lityear_Tobie_R.exe]
Kean is in his aunt's quiet Manila unit, his headache subsided but replaced by a chilling anxiety. Kaye is safe in Baguio. They both opened the Lityear message and found a video call invitation from Tobie. They accept simultaneously.
The screen splits into three panels. Tobie's panel is dark, showing only the silhouette of a man wearing a black hoodie, featureless white mask that covers his mouth and nose.
TOBIE (Voice, calm and measured):
"Kean, Kaye. Thank you for answering. There is no easy way to say this, so I will be direct. I am the programmer who developed the Lityear connection. I know what happened at SEA Mall. I was watching."
Kean grips his phone, Kaye's face looking small and terrified in the adjacent panel.
KEAN:
"The Ferris wheel—the colors were wrong. Who are you? And what do you mean, 'you know what happened'?"
TOBIE:
"I mean the two of you stood less than ten meters apart, and the physical reality of the universe refused to acknowledge the other existed. You felt dizzy because your consciousnesses briefly touched through a dimensional membrane that has been compromised."
"The 'solar storm' you all felt in 2019 was not from the Sun. It was a massive wave of Gamma Ray Burst radiation, cycling between two points: a Black Hole and a White Hole—an impossible portal that links your two separate universes. You are not separated by distance, but by reality."
Kaye shakes her head, tears welling up.
KAYE:
"Two universes? That's insane. How can you even prove that?"
TOBIE:
"The proof is in the constants, Kaye. Think about the distance you've always joked about. Kean, what is the driving distance from Lucena to Baguio City?"
Kean, utterly bewildered, stares at the screen.
KEAN:
"It's... about 289 kilometers. Why?"
Tobie leans slightly into his camera, the mask making his expression unreadable.
TOBIE:
"Because the distance from your Earth to the White Hole portal that links your realities is exactly 289 light-years. Your most intimate perceived distance is a direct mirror of your cosmic separation. 289 is your constant. It's in the file I sent. Please have a look after."
Kean and Kaye stare at each other, their shock palpable. The random number has become proof of cosmic destiny.
KAYE:
"That's... impossible. Then what about the original event? You said a Gamma Ray Burst. Where did that originate?"
TOBIE:
"That Ray Burst was the key to opening the portal, traveling Faster-Than-Light to hit Earth B 19 years ago. The origin point is 10,794 light-years away."
"I want you two to find the parallel to that number now. 10,794. You've found the constant for your local love; now find the constant for your ultimate isolation. It's another kilometer measurement on your shared map."
Tobie pauses, allowing the massive implication to sink in.
TOBIE:
"Find the 10,794-kilometer landmark. That number defines your ultimate barrier. When you find it, contact me. We will then discuss the only way you can cross that gap."
Tobie's screen goes black, ending the call abruptly. Kean and Kaye are left staring at the frozen screens, their relationship redefined by two astronomical numbers.
Kean and Kaye would now scramble to figure out the significance of the 10,794 km distance. Since they know the 289 km was the distance between their hometowns, the new number must relate to another significant geographical barrier in their lives.
Hours passed. The glow of Kean's laptop screen lit the darkened Manila unit. He and Kaye had been on a frantic search, calculating air miles, driving distances, and geodesic paths from key Filipino cities.
KAYE (On Lityear):
Kean. Wait. I think I found it. I measured from Manila. Not Lucena, but the actual capital.
KEAN:
What is it? What's 10,794 kilometers away?
KAYE:
Liverpool. Liverpool, United Kingdom.
A thick silence hung between them, heavier than the 289 light-years separating them.
KEAN:
Liverpool... wait. That's where your mom works, isn't it? She's working abroad in the UK?
KAYE:
Yes. She is. But... why? Why would the distance to the origin of the literal universe-altering energy be the distance to where my mom is? And why Liverpool?
Kean pulled the terrifying threads together: the distance was the same, but the object was different. One was a colliding neutron star; the other was Kaye's mother. The pattern was too specific to be coincidence.
KEAN:
We found the 10,794 km reference. It's Liverpool, UK. Now we need the explanation. Why are these numbers so specific to us? And most importantly, is the multiverse real?
Tobie's response was immediate and unnerving, proving he'd been monitoring their conversation.
TOBIE:
Yes, Kean. It's real. And don't mistake my work for infinite possibility. There are only two universes. Yours and hers. That's what my research has proven. The symmetrical explosion of the Surius star system created a perfectly mirrored reality. I live in yours, Kean.
Kean felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Tobie being close—being real—made the threat far more tangible.
KEAN:
So... if there's my Kaye in another reality that I talk to every day, does it mean... there's another Kaye in my reality? The one that who doesn't know me?
TOBIE:
Yes. There is. She is the alternate self whose life diverged due to the cosmic event. But finding and making contact with her seems to mess with the situation. She is an unknown variable. I would not suggest it. However, you'll meet my other self later on. He's my co-developer of this app.
Kaye's face reappeared on the video chat, her curiosity overriding her fear.
KAYE:
But I think my other self is like me, Tobie. I've been inactive on social media for years. I think Kean tried to find her when he met me on Lityear, but couldn't. I think she's quiet. She's private.
TOBIE:
A low electronic buzz transmits over the Lityear feed, indicating Tobie is irritated or suppressing information.
Well, let's just keep this information on the three of us for now. I must be confidential away from nosy agents and government interference. The less data we put out there, the safer the experiment—and the two of you—will be.
The ominous implication hung in the air. Tobie was their reluctant savior, their gatekeeper, and possibly the biggest threat to their privacy.
TOBIE:
I have given you the constants and the dangers. The next conversation must be about the cure. We will discuss this tomorrow.
Tobie logged off, leaving Kean and Kaye alone with the terrible knowledge of their mirrored, star-crossed realities.
Hours later, the adrenaline from the emotional conversation with Kaye had worn off, replaced by a restless, investigative energy. Kean sat hunched over his laptop in the quiet Manila unit, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He was attempting the impossible: finding his alternate self's life partner.
KEAN:
Stalking skills, activated. Tobie said the alternate Kaye is elusive, like her counterpart here, but maybe I can find a connection. Her mom is abroad in Liverpool, which is the 10,794 constant. Maybe I can reach your other aunt, Tita Rowena?
KAYE:
Yeah, but Tita Rowena usually uses compliment names online, like 'Beautiful Butterfly' or 'Mother Hen.' It's impossible to search for her. Besides, she always locks down her profile. We learned that from a young age.
Kean sighed, frustration mounting. Every door was locked.
KEAN:
Right. I'm searching, but still nothing. Even your other family members have their accounts locked down. It's like the 10,794 distance is enforced by social media privacy settings. It's a complete wall. Oh by the way, does it mean that our presidents are different? Or maybe some other places exist or not?
Kaye's next message came through, interrupting his fruitless search. Her text was shaky.
KAYE:
Uhh it's the same and I don't know. We will talk about that later because Kean? Omygosh. I found something. I did the opposite. I finally opened my old, unused Fluebook account and searched for a 'Kean' in my universe. And he lives in Sariaya... and I found him.
KEAN:
What is it? And wow you finally came back to media? What does he look like? Does he look like me? Sariaya? That's my mom's hometown.
KAYE:
He looks exactly like you. But look at this.
A tiny pause, then a massive image file dropped into the Lityear chat log. Kean clicked it open.
It was a beautiful, smiling photo taken on a beach. The main subject was his alternate self—the man whose body was still healthy in her Universe —and he was smiling broadly.
Beside him, laughing, with her head resting against his shoulder, was Eunice. The caption read: "Still my forever after all these years."
Kean stared at the image, the color draining from his face. The reality of his sacrifice crashed down on him. The man whose life he was about to steal was happy. The girl who had broken his heart was happy. The moral cost was no longer abstract.
Hey... That's me and... Eunice