Chapter 139: Darkness Of Love

“Mother?”

The word escaped Dillan before he could stop it.

For a moment, nobody moved.

The woman behind the Origin Lock continued humming.

Three notes.

A pause.

Two more.

Dillan knew the melody.

He didn’t know where he had heard it, or why the sound made his chest ache, but his body remembered something his mind refused to reveal.

Sasha tightened her grip on his hand.

“Dillan, you don’t have to go in.”

He looked at her.

“What if she’s the answer?”

“What if she’s another lie?”

He had no response.

Behind them, the hooded girl laughed softly.

“That’s the problem with you, Dillan. You think every forgotten thing deserves to be remembered.”

Her crimson eyes shifted toward Sasha.

“Even the things that should have stayed buried.”

Sasha stepped forward.

“Stop talking as if you know him better than we do.”

The girl’s smile widened.

“I knew him before there was an us.”

The Origin Lock shuddered.

Dillan released Sasha’s hand.

“I need to see who’s inside.”

Sasha’s expression tightened, but she didn’t stop him.

“Then come back with an answer.”

He nodded.

“I will.”

“And Dillan?”

He turned.

“Don’t come back just because you think I need you to.”

For a moment, he simply stared at her.

Then he smiled faintly.

“That’s becoming a very inconvenient habit of yours.”

“Good.”

Her eyes softened.

“Get used to it.”

Dillan crossed the threshold.

The door closed behind him.

And the world went white.

A kitchen.

That was the first thing he saw.

A small kitchen with pale curtains, wooden cupboards, and a round table near the window.

Sunlight spilled across the floor.

Somewhere outside, birds were singing.

It was painfully ordinary.

Dillan stood motionless.

After everything he had seen, he had expected a nightmare.

Instead, he had found a home.

A woman stood beside the stove.

Her hair fell to her shoulders, and she wore a simple cream-colored dress. She hummed the same melody as she stirred something in a pot.

She looked young.

Too young to be the mother of the child who had spoken from behind the door.

Then she turned.

Dillan forgot how to breathe.

He didn’t recognize her face.

Yet every part of him wanted to run toward her.

The woman smiled.

“You’re late.”

Dillan stared at her.

“Who are you?”

She tilted her head.

“That’s a strange question to ask your mother.”

His fingers curled.

“Are you really my mother?”

Her smile faded slightly.

“Do you need me to prove it?”

“I need the truth.”

She placed the spoon down.

“The truth.”

She repeated the words as though they were unfamiliar.

Then she walked toward the table and pulled out a chair.

“Sit down, Dillan.”

He remained standing.

“I said I need the truth.”

“And I heard you.”

She sat alone.

“But before you ask me about your memories, your Locks, or that strange little world you’ve created around yourself, I want to ask you something.”

Dillan’s expression hardened.

“What?”

The woman folded her hands.

“If nobody had ever left you, would you have wanted to be loved?”

Silence.

Dillan couldn’t answer.

She studied him with unsettling tenderness.

“Think carefully. You built an entire world around the fear of losing people. You created rules to preserve them. You created a System to measure them. You created Locks to keep what frightened you from disappearing.”

She gestured toward the empty chair.

“But did you ever want love itself?”

Dillan’s jaw tightened.

“Yes.”

“Even if it could hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Even if someone could love you today and choose to leave tomorrow?”

He hesitated.

The woman noticed.

“There’s your answer.”

“No.”

Dillan stepped toward the table.

“That isn’t an answer. It’s a wound you’re trying to make sound like a philosophy.”

For the first time, the woman looked genuinely surprised.

Then she smiled.

A sad, beautiful smile.

“You’ve grown.”

“Who are you?”

She looked toward the window.

“I was the first person you wanted to keep.”

Dillan’s heart pounded.

“Elara?”

The woman’s expression changed.

“No.”

One word.

Absolute.

“Elara came later.”

Dillan stared at her.

“Then the girl outside…”

“Is not the first.”

The woman rose from her chair.

“Neither was Sasha. Neither was Aurelia. Neither was the girl who eventually chose the name Evelyn.”

She approached him.

“They were all choices made after the first.”

Dillan felt cold.

“Then what was the first?”

The woman stopped directly in front of him.

“You.”

The room fell silent.

“You wanted someone who would never leave. But before you could find that person, you made a decision about yourself.”

She touched his cheek.

“You decided that the boy who was afraid of being abandoned was someone nobody should ever have to see.”

Dillan caught her wrist.

“Don’t.”

Her eyes glistened.

“So you buried him.”

His grip loosened.

“You created the Abandoned Self.”

Dillan’s breath caught.

“You created the Locks. You created the Preservation Core. You created the rules that would eventually become your System.”

She lowered her hand.

“And then you forgot the one thing you had promised yourself.”

“What?”

The woman looked directly into his eyes.

“That you would never make someone else suffer just because you were afraid.”

The kitchen began to tremble.

The sunlight vanished.

The curtains turned black.

Dillan stumbled backward as cracks spread across the walls.

A notification appeared in the air.

ORIGIN LOCK: MEMORY RECONSTRUCTION INITIATED.SUBJECT: DILLAN RUREN.PRIMARY MEMORY: INACCESSIBLE.REASON: SUBJECT IS NOT THE ORIGINAL OWNER.

Dillan stared at the final line.

“Not the original owner?”

The woman closed her eyes.

“Oh, Dillan.”

Her voice trembled.

“You still don’t understand.”

The floor split between them.

Beyond the crack lay an endless darkness filled with thousands of doors.

Every door bore his name.

Every door was locked.

And at the far end stood a little boy.

Four years old.

He wore a white shirt and held a photograph against his chest.

The same photograph Dillan had found beneath the oak.

Except this time, there were four children in it.

Young Dillan.

Young Sasha.

Young Aurelia.

And the unknown girl.

The boy lifted his head.

Then he spoke.

“That’s not our mother.”

Dillan turned sharply.

The woman stood perfectly still.

Her face had gone pale.

The little boy clutched the photograph tighter.

“She’s the woman we made.”

Dillan’s blood ran cold.

The woman took one step toward him.

“Please.”

Her voice had changed.

It was no longer warm.

It was frightened.

“Don’t listen to him.”

The boy shook his head.

“You asked for someone who would never leave.”

He pointed at the woman.

“And when she couldn’t promise you that, you gave her a face.”

The woman began to cry.

Dillan looked between them.

“What did I do?”

Neither answered.

Then the Witness Record appeared across the darkness.

Its letters were no longer white.

They were crimson.

ORIGIN LOCK: DEEPER MEMORY UNSEALED.ENTITY IDENTIFIED: THE FIRST COMPANION.CREATION SOURCE: DILLAN RUREN.PURPOSE: FULFILL THE HOST’S FIRST DESIRE.CURRENT STATUS: INDEPENDENT.

Dillan stared at the woman.

“You’re not my mother.”

She shook her head through her tears.

“No.”

“Then what are you?”

She reached for him.

“I was the first person you asked to stay.”

The little boy screamed.

“SHE WAS NEVER A PERSON!”

The woman shattered.

Not into glass.

Into memories.

Thousands of them burst through the darkness, each showing Dillan a different childhood, a different home, a different woman waiting for him at the end of every lonely day.

In every memory, she smiled.

In every memory, she promised she would stay.

And in every memory, the little boy grew older without ever leaving the room.

The Witness Record delivered its final notification.

ORIGIN LOCK: FIRST MEMORY RESTORED.FIRST DESIRE: SOMEONE WHO WOULD NEVER LEAVE.FIRST CREATION: THE ONE WHO PROMISED TO STAY.WARNING: THE CREATION HAS DEVELOPED AN UNAUTHORIZED DESIRE.

Dillan looked toward the place where the woman had stood.

A final memory surfaced.

The woman kneeling before a younger version of him.

Her hands resting on his shoulders.

Her voice soft.

“If I ever become someone you don’t recognize, promise me you’ll let me go.”

Young Dillan began crying.

“No.”

The woman smiled sadly.

“Then you’ll have to learn to recognize me.”

The memory ended.

Dillan stood alone in the darkness.

Until a hand touched his shoulder.

He turned.

The hooded girl stood behind him.

Except her crimson eyes were gone.

Her face had become indistinct, as if the world itself could no longer decide what she looked like.

She leaned close to his ear.

And whispered the words that brought every memory to a halt.

“She wasn’t your mother, Dillan.”

A pause.

“She was mine.”

The darkness split open.

Somewhere beyond the Origin Lock, a woman screamed.

And the Witness Record displayed one final line.

FIRST COMPANION: SEARCHING FOR HER CREATOR.

TARGET IDENTIFIED: UNKNOWN.

THE CREATOR IS NOT DILLAN RUREN.

The darkness did not disappear.

It waited.

Dillan stood beneath a sky without stars, staring at the final notification suspended before him.

THE CREATOR IS NOT DILLAN RUREN.

He read it again.

Then a third time.

“Who created her?”

The hooded girl stood several steps away.

Her face remained indistinct, shifting between the features of a child and those of someone much older.

“You keep asking the wrong questions.”

Dillan clenched his jaw.

“Then give me the right one.”

She tilted her head.

“Ask yourself why a creation would search for someone who supposedly never existed.”

The darkness rippled.

Thousands of doors appeared around them.

Some were small enough for children.

Others were enormous, stretching beyond sight.

Every door carried a name.

SASHA.

AURELIA.

ALINA.

DANA.

LYRA.

EVELYN.

Then Dillan saw another door.

Its surface was white.

There was no name.

Only a single sentence.

I WAS HERE BEFORE YOU NEEDED ME.

He approached it.

The hooded girl immediately stepped in front of him.

“Don’t open that one.”

“Why?”

“Because she isn’t ready.”

“Who?”

The girl looked at him.

For the first time, her expression held something resembling pity.

“The person who created the First Companion.”

Dillan stared at the door.

“You’re telling me someone existed before the woman I just met?”

“Yes.”

“Someone who created her?”

“Yes.”

“And you expect me to believe that person has nothing to do with me?”

The girl fell silent.

Dillan took another step.

“Move.”

“No.”

His eyes hardened.

“I won’t let another person decide what I’m allowed to remember.”

The girl’s fingers trembled.

Then she moved aside.

“That’s what she said, too.”

Dillan stopped.

“Who?”

But the girl had already vanished.

The white door opened.

Inside was a bedroom.

A small one.

There was a wooden bed, a crooked bookshelf, and a window overlooking a garden.

Dillan recognized the room immediately.

Not because he remembered it.

Because he had seen it in fragments throughout his nightmares.

This was the bedroom from before the System.

Before the Locks.

Before he had learned to turn loneliness into rules.

A little boy sat on the floor.

Four years old.

Dillan.

He was arranging wooden blocks into a circle.

One block stood outside the circle.

The boy picked it up and placed it inside.

Then he moved it out again.

He repeated the process several times.

Finally, he threw the block across the room.

“I don’t want anyone to leave.”

A woman’s voice answered from the doorway.

“Then you must learn that people aren’t things you can arrange.”

Young Dillan looked up.

A woman stood there.

Her face was hidden by the sunlight behind her.

She carried a book beneath one arm.

“Who are you?” the child asked.

The woman smiled.

“Someone who came to ask you a question.”

“What question?”

She knelt beside him.

“If you could make one person stay forever, would you do it?”

Young Dillan stared at her.

“Yes.”

“Even if she wanted to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Even if she became unhappy?”

He hesitated.

Then nodded.

The woman didn’t scold him.

She didn’t comfort him, either.

She simply sat beside him.

“Then you’re not ready to make that choice.”

Young Dillan frowned.

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t learned the difference between being loved and being unable to lose someone.”

The boy lowered his head.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

She gently placed the book between them.

“That’s why I’m leaving you this.”

Young Dillan opened it.

Every page was blank.

He looked up.

“There’s nothing inside.”

“Not yet.”

The woman stood.

“One day, you’ll fill it with all the things you were too frightened to say.”

Young Dillan grabbed her sleeve.

“Will you come back?”

The woman looked at his hand.

Then at his face.

“I don’t know.”

His eyes immediately filled with tears.

She knelt again.

“But I won’t lie to you just to make you feel better.”

She placed her palm against his chest.

“Remember this, little one. Someone who promises never to leave you may be trying to protect you.”

Her smile faded.

“Or they may be trying to protect themselves.”

The memory trembled.

Dillan stepped forward.

“Wait!”

The woman turned toward him.

For a fraction of a second, her face became visible.

Dillan recognized her.

Not from a photograph.

Not from a memory.

From somewhere deeper.

Somewhere the Locks had never reached.

“You’re…”

The woman looked directly at the adult standing in the room.

“Hello, Dillan.”

His throat tightened.

“Who are you?”

She glanced at the little boy.

Then back at him.

“I’m the person who asked you the first question.”

The room went silent.

Dillan shook his head.

“No. The Record said the first questioner was someone else.”

“The Record remembers events. It doesn’t always understand them.”

“Then tell me your name.”

The woman hesitated.

That hesitation frightened him more than any answer could have.

“I had one.”

“Had?”

“I gave it away.”

“To whom?”

She looked toward the window.

“To someone who needed it more than I did.”

Dillan approached her.

“Was it Elara?”

The woman’s expression changed.

“No.”

“Was it Evelyn?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

The woman closed her eyes.

Before she could answer, the entire room shuddered.

A black crack appeared across the ceiling.

The Witness Record materialized.

ORIGIN MEMORY: INTERRUPTED.EXTERNAL ENTITY APPROACHING.IDENTITY VERIFICATION FAILED.WARNING: THIS ENTITY EXISTS OUTSIDE THE RECORDED SEQUENCE.

The woman stepped backward.

Dillan reached for her.

“Wait. You can’t disappear again!”

She looked at his outstretched hand.

Something painful crossed her face.

“You’re still doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to turn every goodbye into a problem you must solve.”

Dillan froze.

The woman gently lowered his hand.

“I came here to tell you one thing.”

The black crack widened.

“Your First Companion wasn’t created to make you happy.”

Dillan’s eyes narrowed.

“Then what was she created for?”

The woman looked toward the doorway.

“To keep someone else alive.”

The memory shattered.

Dillan fell to his knees beneath the oak tree.

Sasha caught him before he hit the ground.

“Dillan!”

He gasped, struggling to steady his breathing.

Aurelia crouched beside him.

“What happened?”

He looked at them.

“I met someone.”

Sasha searched his face.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

He pressed a hand against his forehead.

“But she knew me before everything.”

Aurelia glanced at the tree.

“Did she tell you who created the First Companion?”

Dillan nodded slowly.

“She said the First Companion was created to keep someone alive.”

Sasha’s expression darkened.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Then the Witness Record appeared.

For the first time since its creation, the letters formed without any flickering.

ORIGIN LOCK: TEMPORARILY SEALED.FIRST COMPANION: ACTIVE.CREATOR: UNIDENTIFIED.PRESERVATION TARGET: UNIDENTIFIED.

A final notification appeared beneath them.

NEW MEMORY REQUEST RECEIVED.REQUESTING SUBJECT: FIRST COMPANION.REQUESTED MEMORY: THE DAY HER CREATOR DIED.

Dillan stared at the message.

“The day her creator died?”

The Record responded.

MEMORY ACCESS DENIED.

Then another line appeared.

REASON: THE CREATOR IS STILL ALIVE.

Nobody spoke.

The wind died.

Every leaf on the oak tree turned white.

Sasha slowly looked toward Dillan.

“Dillan…”

He already knew what she was about to ask.

If the First Companion’s creator was still alive, then somewhere beyond the Locks, beyond the Record, beyond everything he thought he understood…

Someone was watching them.

Someone who had created a being capable of promising to stay forever.

Someone who had once given away their own name.

And someone who had just requested a memory of their own death.

The oak tree creaked.

A new sentence appeared beneath Elara’s name.

SHE KNOWS WHO YOU ARE.

Dillan stared at the words.

Then a voice whispered directly behind him.

“Of course I do.”

He turned.

A woman in a white dress stood beneath the branches.

Her face was hidden behind a porcelain mask.

She raised one hand and touched the mask.

“But you don’t know who I am anymore.”

She removed it.

Dillan stopped breathing.

Because the face beneath it belonged to Sasha.

Not the Sasha standing beside him.

Not the possibility who had chosen a life beyond him.

A different Sasha.

One with exhausted eyes and a thin scar across her throat.

She smiled sadly.

“Dillan, you promised you’d forget me.”

The Witness Record went completely blank.

Then one final message appeared.

FOURTH ENTRY DETECTED.SUBJECT: THE FIRST COMPANION’S CREATOR.IDENTITY: SASHA RUREN.

Sasha, standing beside Dillan, whispered one word.

“Impossible.”

The woman in white smiled.

“That’s what you said when you killed me.”