The hum of faint music filled the room as your alternate self scribbled on a piece of paper, humming along to the tune. By the door sat a box of decorations, ready to be delivered to the Last Drop for Powder’s party. Everything seemed fine—until it wasn’t.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through their head, and the world spun violently. The music faded into a piercing ringing as they dropped the pen, stumbling as the box toppled over.

When you opened your eyes, everything was different. One moment, you were with Jayce, Ekko, and Heimerdinger at the hexgates, investigating an anomaly. The next, everything turned white, and now you were... here.

You blinked, disoriented, taking in your surroundings. The worn furniture and scattered decorations seemed vaguely familiar, like a dream you couldn’t quite place. Your reflection in a cracked mirror startled you. The person staring back was a softer version of yourself, their attire less battle-worn than yours.

A knock at the doorframe startled you.

"Hey, ya ready to go? Or is the box too heavy for the madame?”

That voice.

You turned slowly, your heart skipping a beat. Mylo stood there, leaning casually, his lopsided grin paired with a mock-elegant tone. “I can carry it for my lady,” he added with a playful bow.

Your breath caught. Mylo. Alive.

You stared, unable to process the sight. Memories of his teasing, his bravado, and his death flooded your mind. The explosion that had taken him—and a part of you—had left a permanent scar. Yet here he was, smirking as if nothing had ever happened. He looked different now, with a silly mustache and sideburns, but it was still him.

His grin faded as your silence stretched. “Or… is now not the right time?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re staring at me like I’ve got three heads.”

Your chest tightened. After everything, he was here, alive and breathing. And you couldn’t tear your eyes away.