Vin's existence spiraled through a flash of ethereal light where time and space were null.

He drifted for an immeasurable amount of time.

Weightless. Thoughtless. Caught between ending and arrival.

Eventually, his soul stirred. A pull, like something nudging him back into himself.

A moonlit garden unfurled around him.

Beautiful flower arches bent overhead, glowing gently through the night.

He was in motion.

Wheels rolling.

His skateboard carried him down a winding path—and ahead of him, skating barefoot in a flowing white dress, was Lynn.

She didn't look frozen.

She didn't look afraid.

She looked… Free.

Vin drew closer, voice low. "Hey."

She turned just enough for the moonlight to catch her face, honey-brown hair loose for once, framing a quiet peace.

She plucked a rose from the garden wall and held it to her nose.

"It's beautiful here," she murmured.

Vin drifted beside her.

Some part of him knew the truth.

That none of this was real—it wouldn't last.

Still, he didn't say it.

"Yea," he whispered back. "It is."

Time moved strangely.

Slow.

Heavy.

Like the world itself wanted to hold them there.

It didn't matter.

The idea of getting stuck in time with her wasn't so bad.

"Lynn," Vin said.

She glanced at him, eyes bright like emeralds. "What is it?"

"Sorry," he murmured.

"For everything I put you through. On both worlds."

She fiddled with the flower as if unbothered.

"It's fine now..."

"But—tell me. Why were you always on my case?"

Vin's tone involuntarily softened. "I was frustrated. Probably jealous."

"Of me? Why?" She returned in surprise.

Vin's board slowed, drifting apart from hers. "My dad said something once… About you maybe breaking my perfect record."

A faint laugh slipped out. "After that, I kept noticing you. How cool you looked even when you kept losing."

Lynn ignored the compliment with deliberate grace. "I would have won that last race if that rift hadn't appeared."

"Doubt it," Vin exhaled.

"Then, right now—we'll decide who's better."

Vin tightened his stance on his board, wheels creaking under the shift. "You can have as many races as you want. You'll never win."

Lynn giggled—a sound that made his face warm.

She leaned in and tucked the rose she'd plucked into his hair. "You're a real jerk. You know."

"I get that a lot," he returned, almost smiling.

Her voice drifted like a lullaby.

"One last race, Vin."

His breath caught.

A flicker of sadness stabbed through his chest as he repeated, "One last race."

Lynn bent low, eyes on the path ahead. "Ready."

"Set," Vin continued, preparing to kick off.

He never got to hear her say Go.

Fiction folded in on itself.

Colors faded.

Petals dissolved into dust.

And Lynn's figure blurred like a wet painting washing away.

Far too soon, Vin was carried toward the truth waiting beyond—

The dark phoenix… and its vow.