Tony felt the heat before he even saw the flames. It crawled along the ground, twisting around him like a hungry creature waking from a long sleep. The fire wasn't just burning—it was alive. The air crackled, the ground trembled, and the circle of flames around him grew wilder, hotter, louder, until he couldn't breathe.
The fire snapped toward him like a whip.
It touched him.
For a moment he felt nothing but heat swallowing him whole.
And then—silence.
Tony gasped as cold air touched his skin. He blinked rapidly, expecting to see fire, smoke, the maze, the others—anything. But instead, soft morning light streamed into a room he hadn't seen in years. His room. His house. Four years ago.
His assistant walked in with the same bored expression, pulling open the curtains.
"Sir, you're late again," she said, just like she always used to.
Tony didn't answer. He didn't move. He just stared.
How did I come here?
He stepped back, touching the edges of the desk, the old files, the calendar on the wall. Everything was exactly the same. The smell of coffee from the kitchen, the hum of the AC, the faint sound of traffic outside — it was real. Too real.
His heart pounded. He wasn't in the gate anymore.
He was home.
But why?
Jet heard the world spin before she saw it. A powerful pull snatched the air from her lungs, sending her falling backward through something cold, something hollow. Then the wind slammed against her face so hard she had to shield her eyes.
When she looked around, her breath froze.
She stood on a narrow mountain track — a trail she had memorized with her entire body. The stones, the ridges, the sharp turns… this was two years ago. And ahead of her, a motorcycle shot past, kicking dust into the air.
Jet's eyes widened.
It was her.
Her younger self, riding like she owned the sky, hair flying, laugh loud and careless. She remembered that day — the thrill, the speed, the freedom she hadn't felt in so long.
But the Jet standing here now didn't move. She was too stunned to breathe.
Her younger self disappeared around the bend.
Jet clenched her fists.
Why am I back here? Why this day? Why now?
Samy opened her eyes to the soft glow of sunshine coming through wide school windows. The lockers were clean, the walls freshly painted, and the air smelled like morning dust and new books.
Her chest felt strangely light.
Then she realized why.
There were no whispers.
No mocking footsteps behind her.
No cruel laughter bouncing off the walls.
This was her first year at the new school — but without the bullies.
She walked slowly, touching the locker door. This hallway used to feel like a battlefield, but now… it was peaceful. Normal. Almost comforting.
Students walked past her without a second glance. No stares. No insults. No snickers.
It was the version of her school life she always wished she had.
Samy swallowed hard.
Why am I seeing this now?
Tin felt like the ground vanished under his feet. His head spun, his heart thudded, and suddenly he was standing in a room filled with sunlight and the faint scent of his mother's perfume.
He blinked.
He was in his old drawing room, completely the same as years ago — the patterned sofa, the glass table, the sketchbooks scattered around. The painting his father loved hung crooked on the wall, just the way he remembered.
Tin spun in a full circle, panic creeping up his throat. His breath came fast and shaky.
How did I get here?
He pressed his hands against his chest. He felt real. The sofa felt real. The wooden floor felt real. But he knew — this wasn't his present. This wasn't where he was supposed to be.
He stepped back until he hit the wall.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
While the others were lost in their simple pasts, Kim fell into a memory far heavier.
His eyelids lifted slowly, as if waking from a long, painful dream. He felt the warmth of a blanket, the softness of a couch, and the faint glow of a single lamp.
He knew this place instantly.
He knew this night.
Two years ago.
Tony was sleeping on the bed beside him, breathing softly, face tired but peaceful. Roger was asleep on the couch — again — still wearing her jacket, arms crossed like she was guarding something even in her dreams.
Kim's eyes moved to the wall, and his chest tightened.
It was covered in photos, maps, notes, red markings.
A messy collage of desperation.
This was the night the police gave up looking for his sister.
The night everything changed.
The night the three of them decided to investigate on their own.
He had cried that night until Tony woke up and held him.
He had promised himself he wouldn't break again.
But standing here now… it felt like the universe wanted him to relive every moment.
Kim touched the photo of his sister with trembling fingers.
"Why am I back here…" he whispered to himself.
Roger felt cold before she opened her eyes. The kind of cold that came from inside the chest, not the room. She pushed herself up slowly, knowing the air, the silence, the darkness far too well.
She was in her room. But not any random day.
It was her brother's funeral day.
Her shoulders trembled as memories hit her like waves. The yelling. The blame. The crushing silence that followed.
A soft knock made her freeze.
She knew who it was even before the door opened.
Drake.
Her big brother. Alive.
He stepped inside gently, the way he always used to when she cried.
His eyes were full of worry.
"Rog… Dad didn't mean all that. He's just upset."
Roger felt her breath break. She hadn't heard his voice in so long. She hadn't seen him standing there — real, living, warm.
She wanted to run to him, hug him, scream, break, and never let go.
He walked toward her, placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm here, okay? I won't let anyone hurt you again."
Roger's throat tightened painfully.
She knew this wasn't real — but her heart didn't care.
Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Six lives.
Six memories.
Six pasts.
The 10th gate hadn't just pulled them in.
It had chosen their deepest moments — their wounds, their truths, their fears — and trapped them inside them.
Separating them.
Breaking them.
Testing them.
And the gate wasn't done yet.
It had only just started.