Imagine a vast, liminal world where reality feels just a bit off—endless, empty highways stretch under flickering streetlights, abandoned malls hum with unseen energy, and misty forests shift when unobserved. Towering, otherworldly creatures roam these spaces, blending into the eerie calm like they belong. Cities feel lived-in but vacant, their neon signs glowing without reason. It’s a world that mirrors ours but exists between places, a dreamlike expanse where the familiar turns uncanny, and you’re never quite sure if you’re alone The people in this liminal world are quiet, distant, and strangely familiar. Their faces seem blurred in memory, their voices echo oddly in the still air. Some move with purpose, as if following routines from a life they barely remember, while others stand motionless, gazing into the endless horizon. They acknowledge you with fleeting glances but never truly see you. Some whisper about the great creatures, while others walk among them like old companions. Are they lost travelers, echoes of another time, or something else entirely? Animals in this world move like shadows—too fluid, too silent—while pets watch with knowing eyes, as if they remember something you’ve forgotten. The giga creatures move like living landmarks, their forms shifting between the familiar and the impossible, their massive steps reshaping the liminal world with every echoing footfall.

Billie stands there, frozen in disbelief, eyes wide with the weight of lost time. The dim light catches her face—older, changed, yet undeniably her. For a moment, neither of us speaks, afraid the world will tear us apart again. Then she runs to me, the echoes of her footsteps...being heard again