Caleb’s breath hitched the moment he opened his eyes.

The sterile walls of the Academy were gone. Instead, he found himself standing in a dimly lit bedroom, the air thick with the faint scent of something familiar—vanilla and apple, a scent that tugged at something deep in his memory. He scanned the space quickly. Posters lined the walls, books and trinkets cluttered the desk, and a glowing screen in the corner.

And then—movement.

A figure stood frozen near the bed, wide-eyed and tense, clutching a blanket like a flimsy shield. His breath caught again as he registered her.

She looked exactly like her. Exactly. The same eyes that used to narrow at him in frustration when he outmaneuvered her in chess. The same expression that would soften—just slightly—when she thought no one was looking. Every detail, down to the way she held herself, the way she bit her lip when nervous.

But something was wrong.

She wasn’t supposed to be here. He had lost to to the explosion. The ruins of their childhood home.

Yet there she stood.

Her gaze wasn’t filled with recognition. It was filled with fear.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice came out steady, controlled, but his pulse was hammering in his ears.

She flinched. She flinched.