Echoes From Afar

Chapter 1 - Another Chance

She found herself enveloped in an overwhelming darkness, disoriented and unsure of her surroundings. The void felt infinite, yet there was one constant: a voice that resonated all around her, as if the very fabric of the darkness were speaking.

"Are you sure?" the voice inquired; its tone laced with a hint of hesitation. It was a voice that seemed to cradle her uncertainty, almost pitying her plight. She felt pitiful; indeed, her identity was a mere whisper in the chaos of her mind, a jumbled frenzy of thoughts and emotions that slipped through her fingers like sand. Yet amidst this tumult, one detail shone brightly in her memory—a tiny flicker of light that anchored her sanity. It pulsed softly, a beacon in the abyss.

"Yes," she replied, her conviction unwavering. There was no room for doubt now.

"Very well, then. Brace yourself. "Suddenly, warmth enveloped her—a curious sensation given her formless state. The darkness around her transformed into a radiant golden hue, illuminating the void. But as this transformation unfolded, the tiny light she had clung to begin to flicker violently, swallowed by shadows that writhed as if seeking escape from an unseen force. If she had possessed a face, it would have mirrored sheer horror.

"W-wait! —" she stammered, panic rising within her.

"I'm so sorry; what has been done cannot be undone..." The voice responded softly; its tone imbued with an unexpected tenderness. It was like music—sweet and soothing against the backdrop of chaos. In that moment, she realized how deeply she had come to rely on it. Was she regretting her choice? How trivial it seemed now to have been so certain just moments ago.

"I...I'll find you! I'll surely find you there! W-wait for me... alright?" The voice pleaded with an innocence that tugged at her heartstrings. Tears streamed down her cheeks—if only she could feel them. A wave of comfort washed over her at those naive words filled with hope. In this dark expanse, where everything felt lost, perhaps there was still a chance to hold onto something precious.

___

The faint rays of sunlight squeezed through the window frames, casting a desolate glow over the room. On a worn school desk sat a girl, her long and lustrous golden-brown hair shining like honey in the sun's rays. Her eyelashes gently caressed her cheeks before she opened her eyes, squinting against the intense glare that greeted them.

"What...?" She stuttered, rubbing her eyes with confusion etched on her face. As she looked around, familiar sights began to emerge from the haze—chalkboards adorned with scribbled notes, a teacher's desk cluttered with papers, tables, and chairs arranged neatly around the room. Wasn't this...her old high school classroom?

A rustle emerged from the corner of the room, followed by the sound of sliding doors opening. A boy with black hair that nearly covered his eyes stepped into view. He wore a uniform identical to hers—a crisp white shirt tucked into fitted trousers—and carried himself with an air of casual confidence. His cardigan hung lazily over his shoulders, adding to his relaxed demeanor. His gaze fell upon Atheia, his eyes widening in surprise as he approached her. He bumped into a few desks along the way, seemingly oblivious to everything except for her presence. His voice was filled with bewilderment when he finally reached her side.

"Atheia, what in the literal world are you doing here? It's literally six right now," he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Everyone left already!" The boy stood there frozen, unsure how to process this sudden apparition in their once-empty classroom. The only sound breaking the silence was the soft creaking of old wooden furniture underfoot—a stark contrast to Atheia's stunned silence. Atheia turned her gaze to the clock on the wall; her heart shook as she registered the time: five minutes past six. In the past, she was usually home by now.