Falling for them (love and deepspace X OC )

Curse of Memory

The door that had been sealed with ice bursts open. Having completed their transformations into Wanderers, the Alterum try to overwhelm us like a tidal wave.As soon as they get close, sharp icicles pierce their chests. The shards of ice then explode outward like a violent storm.More Alterum advance. They crush the fallen ice crystals beneath their feet as they crawl over corpses to reach us.
All of the Alterum open and close their mouths in unison. They stutter and produce these unsettling sounds.No matter how hard he tries, Zayne can't make out what they're saying or see their faces clearly.The nightmare wraps around his body like a phantom. It coils behind him and whispers fate's curse into his ear.He clutches his chest and feels as if the icy wind stabbed it. He stares at the corner of the tent fluttering in the snowy gale with a distant, otherworldly gaze.William, who had just finished a surgery, pauses in surprise. Then he smiles and holds out his hand toward him. Everything that just happened... It seems to have been a dream.He stares at his fingers. The blood, the girl's shocked expression—it was all just a dream.It was just a dream. The polar night hasn't disappeared. The dark blue sky appears to be almost within reach.This desolate land, covered in a blanket of snow, is always magnificent. I roll and find an opening in the wall of Alterum that's protecting Benedict. I aim my gun at him.But before I can pull the trigger, brilliant ice flies toward Benedict.Benedict smiles. He crushes the ice shard embedded in his chest. Soon enough, only the two of us remain in the vast, cold control room.Ignoring everything else, I rush past the dissipating ice crystals to Zayne and cradle his face in my hands. Zayne's labored breathing shows how intense the pain is. The black ice crystals emerge from his neck and continue to spread out.His ice-cold fingers are slowly slipping away from my palm. These hands that saved countless lives should never be stained with the pain and guilt that don't belong to them, especially not because of scum like Benedict. These few seconds feel like centuries. And then, he finally raises his head to look at me.He slowly tenses, and I see myself reflected in his icy gaze. Pain answers me instead. My consciousness shatters as I drift into the warm embrace of unconsciousness.Before everything fades, distant memories regroup and flood my mind.The ground is littered with the remains of Wanderers. They're slowly dissipating.Meanwhile, searing pain burns my chest.Struggling to push myself up, I see my bloodstained hands are small and thin. I look up. There's a young man with a familiar face, but his expression is frighteningly cold and foreign.
While I'm dazed, his face merges with Zayne's present-day appearance. They-from my memories and reality-approach me step by step It's as if black frost has covered his eyes. Having materialized in his raised hand, sharp ice crystals hurl themselves at me. The next day, the pristine sanatorium stands tall, immaculate, and serene. It's been restored to the point where yesterday's attack might have never happened at all. In the courtyard, a gentle breeze caresses the grass kissed by early morning light. A cocoon hangs on a delicate, swaying flower stem.The faint sounds of struggle can be heard from within. Light reveals the outline of tightly folded wings behind its translucent walls. Moist and tender, it breaks free from its cocoon.And in the refreshing air of rebirth, those wings slowly take to the skies.