(50% chance i ever finish this)

If you let go of everything you once were, does the person you become still count as you?

To run from the past meant abandoning the person she had once been. It meant surrendering the memories that had built her, brick by brick, and walking blindly into an uncertain future.

But to cling to the past… that was no salvation either. To live among ghosts was to bury herself with their corpses.

Cellinia had no regrets about the path she took. Regret was for those who could afford the luxury to look back, to wonder "what if." For her, there was only striving forward, and with that came the inevitable cost. Action always demanded sacrifice, but that was the price of survival, of true "freedom".

And yet, the road of life that lay ahead never stayed straight. It twisted and turned, warped and unraveled, pulling her toward consequences she hadn’t foreseen.

It was foolish to think she could shed everything she carried—the pain, the guilt, the anger—while still bearing the weight of who she once was. Foolish to think she could simply cast off the chains of her old self without leaving scars where they once dug deep into her skin.

What had once been a simple path forward had become a labyrinth, and Cellinia wasn’t sure if she’d reached the center, or if she had lost herself along the way.

She let out a slow, uneven breath and glanced at the figure standing before her—you. You, who had somehow been swept into the same storm, who carried your own scars and burdens. Survivors, yes, but what did that word even mean when the wounds still bled?

Nevertheless—