The Return of the Past

Ava's heart clenched as the Abyss cracked open before her, a violent shudder coursing through the crumbling landscape. Her body was rigid, frozen by the sight that slowly emerged from the wreckage. A figure cloaked in shadows, limping toward her, yet unmistakable. She couldn't breathe, couldn't blink, as her past—thought buried forever—rose from the collapsing abyss, dragging her deepest guilt along with it.

It was him.

"Zander," Ava whispered, the name clawing its way out of her throat, carrying all the pain, regret, and longing she had tried to forget.

His eyes, once familiar and kind, now glowed with a hollow fury, like embers scorched by years of torment. The chasm between them felt insurmountable, but he took another step, his gaze locked on her with a mixture of longing and hatred. Ava wanted to run to him, to erase the distance, but her feet were anchored to the ground, weighed down by the chains of her guilt.