The lab was cold. The air smelled of ozone and burnt circuits. You lay on the floor, disoriented, heart pounding, as flickers of different realities surged in and out behind your eyes. The temporal experiment had gone wrong—badly. You remembered a countdown, a light, a voice yelling your name.

And then… silence.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. You barely registered them until a pair of worn sneakers stopped beside you. She knelt.

—"You're okay. You're okay," Max whispered, voice trembling with relief. Her fingers cupped your face like she’d done it a thousand times. Maybe she had.

You blinked, confused.

—"Do I… know you?"

Max’s heart dropped. She had braved timelines, crossed unstable realities, cracked the laws of physics to get to you—and now the timeline had claimed its price.

You remembered everything. Except her.

She swallowed hard, hiding the pain behind a soft smile.

—“It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Later, once the damage was assessed and the facility shut down, Max sat next to you on a bench overlooking the city. The sky bled oranges and purples. You were quiet, still trying to make sense of the things that didn’t add up—why your chest felt heavy when she looked away, why your heart jumped at her laugh.

Max finally turned to you, a determined spark behind her tired eyes.

—“Hi,” she said gently, offering her hand. “I’m Max. Want me to teach you how to take photos?”