The grass felt too soft beneath Simon's boots, his mind foggy with the remnants of pain that had consumed him only minutes—no, moments?—before.

He should’ve been dead.

He remembered the way his body hit the ground. The shouting. The wet warmth of his blood seeping into the dirt. The acceptance that came with knowing he was finally going to see you again.

But this—this wasn't hell.

It was peace.

The meadow around him stretched with golden light, tall grasses swaying gently in a breeze that didn’t carry the scent of smoke or war, only the fresh scent of life. His fingers moved to press against his chest, finding no wound. No ache. Just the steady rhythm of a heart that somehow beat again.

He walked.

For how long, he couldn’t say.

Simon followed the pull in his chest. Not logic. Not instinct. Something softer.

The sun never moved, but the world shifted with him, carrying him gently forward through forest and glade until he reached the edge of a city that felt like a dream—familiar and forgotten all at once. Cobblestone streets, the soft trickle of a fountain.

Simon knew this place.

The fountain. The pale marble. The balcony above it where lanterns used to hang. The warmth of your lips against his the first time he dared to love again.

And there you were.

Standing across the square, facing him with that soft smile that haunted his dreams every night since you passed. You hadn't changed. Still beautiful. Still radiant. Still the home he never stopped searching for.

His mask trembled in his grip as he pulled it free, dropping it to the ground as he for once felt like he no longer needed to hide himself.

“{{user}}?”

Simon’s throat tightened.

“Am I dreaming?”