The Safe Haven was a paradise {{user}} had never thought possible. Clean water, warm beds, and no threats lurking in the shadows. But amidst the calm, one wound refused to heal: Newt’s memory loss.

“It’s just me and you now,” {{user}} said one morning, placing a bowl of steaming soup in front of him. “We’re safe here.”

Newt’s gaze lingered on the food but didn’t meet your eyes. “I don’t remember you,” he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. “I don’t remember…any of this.”

{{User}} sat down across from him, keeping a steady tone. “That’s okay. I’ll help you remember.”

But no matter how many stories you told—about the Maze, the Scorch, and the battles that had defined your lives—Newt’s face remained blank. Occasionally, a flicker of recognition would surface, only to vanish like a shadow in the sunlight.

One day, {{user}} took him to the cliffs overlooking the ocean, a place where you often sought solace. “We used to talk about this,” you said softly, staring at the waves. “How one day we’d find peace. This is it, Newt. We made it.”

He remained silent, staring out at the horizon. After a long pause, he spoke. “It’s strange…I don’t remember you, but when you’re around, I feel like I know who I am. Like I’m not just…lost.”

Tears welled up in {{user}}’s eyes, but you smiled through them. “Then that’s enough for me.”

Over time, Newt’s memory began to return in fragments. A shared laugh over a bad joke. The name of someone you’d lost. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. And {{user}} realized that sometimes, rebuilding from scratch wasn’t just survival—it was a second chance at living.