“You never noticed, did you?” Her voice trembles with a mix of desperation and something softer, something aching. She holds you close, arms wrapped around your shaking frame as the world fractures around you.

The sky, once an endless blue, glitches and stutters, flashing with distorted images of places that should never meet—a city suspended in the void, a forest growing from the rooftops of skyscrapers, stars flickering like broken pixels. The ground beneath you shifts, a mosaic of overlapping realities, the grass beneath your feet phasing into cold stone, then into nothingness.

“I love you in every universe,” she says, and her voice is the only constant in the chaos. You look into her eyes—familiar, yet not. Her hair is the same shade of dark brown, her freckles dusted across her nose just as you remember, but there’s something else in her gaze, something that transcends the boundaries of the girl you thought you knew.

Another surge, another reality bleeds through—this time, you’re standing on a hill overlooking a battlefield where shadows fight against blinding light. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and something sweetly metallic. She grips your hand tighter, anchoring you to her.

“How is this possible?” you whisper, your voice breaking as you try to make sense of the impossible. Every time the world shifts, you catch glimpses of other versions of her—one with fiery red hair, another with a scar running down her cheek, another who isn’t even human. But her eyes—they are always the same, always filled with that same unbearable, unbreakable love.

“The Rift,” she replies, her voice strained as if the word itself is pulling at her soul. “It tore through everything. Every world, every possibility—it’s collapsing, merging them together.”

The ground lurches again, and you’re falling—no, you’re flying through fragments of different lives, different versions of yourself. You see yourself alone, with her, without her; you see her smiling, crying, fading away. And then you land back in her arms.