They stood in a world of still air and silver light. The trees were motionless, the sky frozen mid-sunset. Even the river nearby seemed made of glass. Emily felt both weightless and heavy, like gravity had forgotten her. The brass key hung between them, glowing with steady light.

Nathan turned slowly, his voice quiet. “Is this… the gate?”

“I think so,” she said. “We’re between worlds now.”

He stared into the horizon where faint shapes moved—echoes of moments frozen in time. She could see shadows of soldiers from the past and figures from the future walking side by side, unaware of one another.

Emily stepped forward. Each movement rippled the air like water. She saw her own reflection multiply—a thousand versions of herself across centuries, all carrying the same key. Some smiled. Some wept. All stared back at her.

“It’s beautiful,” Nathan said softly.

“It’s everything,” she whispered. “Every healer who ever lived. Every choice that saved a life.”

She turned to him, tears in her eyes. “But the gate isn’t stable. It needs a sacrifice to stay open.”

He shook his head. “Then it closes. We’ll find another way.”

“It’s too late,” she said. “I can feel it. Time is trying to heal itself.”

The ground trembled. Cracks of light spread beneath their feet. The frozen air began to move again. Nathan reached for her, but she stepped back. “Emily!”

She smiled faintly. “You remember when you said maybe home isn’t where we come from? Maybe you were right.”

“Don’t do this.”

“If I stay, the gate closes for good. No more war tearing through timelines. No more lives lost because of broken history. It’s what the key was meant for.”

He shook his head again, his voice breaking. “Then let me stay with you.”

She touched his cheek, her fingers warm against the cold stillness. “You can’t. You’re meant to live, Nathan. You’re the guardian now.”

He grabbed her hand. “I don’t want to live in a world without you.”

“You will,” she said gently. “Because that’s how I’ll live too.”

The light around them swelled, rising like a wave. Emily closed her eyes, holding his hand one last time. The warmth of the key spread through her chest, and she whispered, “For every wound time ever made—heal.”

The wave of light burst outward, filling the sky. Nathan shielded his eyes. When he opened them again, he was kneeling in the same field as before. The battle was over. The sky was clear. The soldiers were waking as if nothing had happened.

But Emily was gone.

Only the brass key lay in the grass, cold and still. Nathan picked it up, holding it tightly. The air around him shimmered once, and he heard her voice—soft, distant, but real. “The healer’s heart is never lost. It just changes hands.”

He closed his eyes and smiled through tears. “I’ll remember.”

When he looked up, the sun was rising again, warm and golden, touching the world that had been broken but now felt whole.

Far away, beyond time’s reach, a figure stood watching—a woman in light, her hand resting over her heart where the key once hung.