Li stopped in his tracks.
Not because the scene changed.
nor because the environment collapsed.
but because the emotion came first.
The feeling was strange.
It was like walking on an unfamiliar road and suddenly knowing what would happen around the next corner.
It wasn't a memory,
The body reacted before the brain.
The dream was like a long corridor.
The lighting was dim, as if someone had deliberately lowered the brightness.
The walls were excessively clean; there were no notices, no names and no trace of anything that could prove 'what happened here'.
Li had been walking forward.
The next second, he suddenly stopped.
His heart tightened for no apparent reason.
Not fear,
Not unease.
But it was a very slight yet extremely clear feeling.
'I have to catch up.'
He looked up.
At the end of the corridor, he could make out a blurry figure.
Not a front view.
just a back view.
The lines of the school uniform were familiar, as was the way her hair fell over her shoulders. Her steps were slow, but she didn't turn around.
Li's throat tightened.
He didn't even know who it was.
He didn't know why he was chasing her.
But his body had already taken a step forward.
'Wait a minute.'
The voice sounded very soft in the dream, as if half of it had been sucked away.
The figure ahead didn't stop.
Li quickened his pace.
With each step, the sense of unease grew stronger.
This wasn't about chasing her.
It was more like—
'Have I been chasing her all along?'
The corridor seemed to grow longer.
The distance didn't shorten; it seemed fixed by some unseen force.
Li's breathing gradually became more rapid.
Just then, a thought suddenly surfaced:
This wasn't a question, but a confirmation.
It was a confirmation.
This wasn't the first time.
This back view.
This distance.
This feeling of never being able to catch up, no matter how hard he ran.
Had he had this dream before? No.
If it were just a dream, it wouldn't feel so familiar.
That familiarity didn't come from the images.
It came from the emotion it evoked.
But from the emotion itself.
It was as if someone had been standing in his life all along, protecting him from something.
Li reached out.
His fingertips touched nothing, yet a dull, sudden pain shot through his chest.
The next moment, cracks began to appear in the dream.
Not shattering,
but rather like a gentle tap on glass.
Small cracks spread through the air.
The figure finally stopped,
but still didn't turn around.
Li stood there, his heart pounding loudly — this wasn't a dream.
He suddenly realised one thing:
If she turned around—
—this dream might end.
But if she didn't, he might be stuck there forever.
—he might be stuck there forever.
'You...'
Before he could finish speaking,
The dream was forcibly pulled away,
as if someone had closed a book.
As her consciousness began to fade, Li heard a voice say:
It wasn't a voice,
It was more like information being crammed into her emotions.
The temperature was low, yet stable.
'Don't see me now.'
Li jolted awake.
The sky was already lightening.
The outline of the campus was visible outside the window, and the birdsong and wind seemed normal.
But his heart wouldn't slow down.
Li abruptly pressed his hand to his chest.
A strange feeling lingered there.
It wasn't the emptiness experienced upon waking from a dream.
but rather—
a trace left behind.
He stared at the ceiling for a long time.
Finally, he murmured to himself, "Have I forgotten something?"
'Have I forgotten something?'
But no one answered.
Only in the depths of his dream did that figure, who never turned back, stand quietly on a timeline whose name he had forgotten.
Li didn't know that, in another world,
— someone was beginning to defy the entire system because they remembered him.
Mio lost her sense of time that day.
The class continued.
The rhythmic sound of chalk scratching against the blackboard was reassuring.
The wind, sunlight and rustling of pages outside told her:
It was safe.
However, the prophecy came true.
Without any warning.
There was no familiar unfolding of the future.
The images didn't appear first.
Failure struck first.
Mio's fingers tightened sharply.
In her vision, the podium multiplied instantly.
She saw Rei standing in the centre of the barrier.
The next second, he collapsed.
The scene didn't end there, though; another layer covered it.
Rei was sealed.
Another layer—
— Rei disappeared from all records.
Another layer—
She reached out, but grasped nothing.
This wasn't a continuous future.
Rather, there were simultaneous endings.
All of them were 'failing to be saved'.
Mio's breath caught in her throat.
She lowered her head instinctively, pressing her hand against the edge of the table.
At that moment, the pain struck.
not in a specific location,
but simultaneously.
Her heart tightened.
her temples felt as though they were being pressed by a blunt object.
Her fingertips went numb and she felt a slow but distinct pain emanating from deep within her bones.
It was as if every failure she had ever seen had found a place in her body.
Mio gritted her teeth.
She knew this wasn't normal.
The prophecy shouldn't be like this.
The future should be unidirectional and traceable.
Even if it was cruel, it should be 'one of many'.
But now, the world had heaped all possible failures upon her at once.
as if calmly declaring:
'The harder you try to find a way out, the more clearly I'll show you that there is no way out.'
Cold sweat began to bead on her forehead.
Her vision began to blur at the edges.
She struggled to stay upright.
It wasn't out of pride.
but because she knew—
— that once she was unconscious, the prophecy would only deepen.
The pain persisted.
not an outburst,
but a precise, continuous and undeniable reminder.
Mio finally realised one thing:
This wasn't the prophecy spiralling out of control,
Rather, it was the activation of the punishment mechanism.
She had seen too much.
She had remembered too much.
She had even tried to preserve those 'possibilities that weren't allowed to exist'.
The world was telling her, in the clearest possible terms, that:
Abilities aren't free.
especially when you start showing favouritism."
'I see.'
Mio's voice was almost inaudible.
She slowly closed her eyes, cutting off her vision.
But the failed outcome didn't disappear.
It echoed repeatedly in her consciousness.
With each repetition, her pain intensified.
Mio's fingers trembled slightly.
Suddenly, she remembered Li's silhouette from her dream.
It wasn't a specific image,
but rather that feeling—
a sense of being about to be erased, yet not having had time to turn back.
A sharp pain shot through her chest.
The pain reached its peak in that instant.
Mio almost lost her voice.
Just when she thought she wouldn't make it,
A very subtle change occurred:
This wasn't a new future.
but—
a deviation from one of the failed endings.
Extremely subtle.
Like a crack.
Mio abruptly opened her eyes.
Her vision was blurry and the world was still swaying.
But she grasped it.
This wasn't because of her prophetic abilities.
It was because she was all too familiar with 'what the world didn't want her to see'.
She understood.
As long as she continued to look this way and try to understand all the possibilities,
The world would drag her down into the abyss of failure.
She had to change her approach.
No longer "seeing",
but choosing.
The pain didn't disappear immediately.
But it stopped short of intensifying any further.
It seemed to be waiting for her reaction.
Mio slowly straightened up, her breathing still somewhat erratic.
In her mind, she calmly complied with that invisible rule:
'I know the price. But I won't stop.'
The teacher on the podium was still speaking.
The students were completely oblivious.
Only Mio knew that.
From this moment on, every prediction she made
would be watched by the world.
The further ahead she looked,
The pain would become even more real.
But she had already made her choice.
If the future was destined to fail,
then she would at least personally create a crack in it.