Anomalies

Neon barely had time to register the shift before the world around him reassembled itself.The sky, once flickering like a broken simulation, solidified into a churning storm of red and black. The air smelled like burning metal. Smoke clung to his throat.

And in front of him, the city burned.

The world was in freefall. Structures collapsed into themselves like paper catching fire, entire blocks swallowed in flames. Sirens wailed, a chorus of warning cries lost beneath the thunder of war.

Neon’s breath came short, sharp. He knew this place.

This was Nyxia. The day the war had stolen everything from him.

His fingers curled into his palms. This was a memory, but it didn’t feel like one. The heat licking his skin was real. The smoke clogging his lungs was real. And somewhere, buried in the ruins, the boy he had been was running, desperate, too young to understand what was happening.

Neon forced himself to move.

The streets were filled with chaos. People ran, screaming, their faces blurred by the haze of fire and debris. A child tripped in the middle of the road, their voice lost beneath the roar of an engine as a war mech stormed past, its heavy metal limbs crushing everything beneath it. Neon’s stomach twisted, but he couldn’t stop.

Because he knew where this memory ended.

And then—

He saw her.

A woman, standing in the middle of the carnage, her dark uniform somehow untouched by the blood and ash staining the air. The soldiers around her moved with mechanical precision, their weapons drawn, their orders clear.

Sakura.

But not the one from his dream. Not the one who had spoken to him like a ghost caught between past and present.

Neon’s breath hitched. His body locked into place as she turned, as her eyes swept over him, as if she could see him despite the fact that this was just a dream, just a memory.Then she spoke.

“Do you remember?” she asked softly.

Neon flinched. The world around him pulsed, reality twisting at the edges. The sky cracked open, splitting like glass.

“Do you remember why you're fighting?” Sakura repeated, her voice almost gentle. “You lost everything on this day.”

Neon’s pulse thundered in his ears.

This wasn’t how the memory had gone. He shouldn’t be able to speak to her. He shouldn’t be able to move, to change anything. And yet—

"Have you forgotten?"

Neon clenched his fists.

His voice came out hoarse, trembling. “Why are you showing me this?”

Sakura stepped closer. The flames flickered behind her, casting shadows across her face.

"You can stop here," it said. "You've done enough."

Neon’s chest tightened.

"This could be the end forever," the figure continued. "You don’t have to go any further."

A shuddering breath escaped him. His chest felt tight, like something was unraveling inside. He had spent so long fighting. So long clawing forward, refusing to let go of his anger and grief.

The war had shaped them. Had taken from them. Had forced them into the roles they played. 

It was all by design. The Architect´s design.

And yet, it felt like something more.

The first tear slipped down his cheek, then another. His body trembled, his vision blurred.

“Is this where I was supposed to die?” he asked, voice sharp.

Sakura didn’t answer immediately. She studied him, her gaze piercing, assessing. Then, finally

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“No,” she murmured. “This is where you were supposed to become who you are.”

The words struck something deep inside him.

Neon’s throat felt tight. “And Aria?” he demanded. “What was she supposed to become?”

Sakura’s gaze flickered.

“She was supposed to be a ghost,” she said simply. “A memory. A reminder that the war would never end.”

Neon’s heart clenched.

Aria was never meant to survive past this day.

He thought about her now—the way she carried herself, the way she fought, the way she never let herself believe in anything because belief only led to disappointment.

She was living in defiance of everything this world was supposed to be.Just like him.

The first tear slipped down his cheek, then another. His body trembled, his vision blurred.

He had always been fueled by revenge. That fire had kept him moving, pushing forward when everything felt impossible. He had wanted to tear the world apart and put it back together.

But now—

Now, all he could think about was her.

Aria.

Neon stepped forward, the firelight casting long shadows across his face. “And her father?” he pressed.

Sakura inhaled sharply, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. Her voice echoed behind him.

“He never died.”

Neon turned, eyes wide, chest heaving. “Why?” His voice cracked. “Why keep this from her?”

Sakura’s expression was unreadable. “She wasn´t meant to know. She an anomaly, just like you.”

Neon’s hands curled into fists. Everything Aria had believed, everything she had suffered—it had all been built on a lie.

A bitter, cruel lie.

“She’ll never forgive you,” Neon whispered.

Sakura’s gaze softened. “I know.”

Silence stretched between them.

And then, something deeper settled inside Neon’s chest. A quiet, simmering rage. Not at Sakura. Not at Aria’s father.

At Peter.

At the Architect who had stolen their futures, who had played with their lives like pieces on a board.

He had built a world where time never moved forward. Where the war would never end. Where Neon and Aria were meant to be nothing more than players in an eternal cycle of suffering.

"You don’t have to go any further," Sakura said once again.

But he did.

The way Aria looked at him when she was frustrated. The way she fought, the way she never backed down. The way her voice softened when she thought no one was listening.

She was the reason he was still standing.

Not revenge. Not the past.

Her.

He didn't want to leave her alone.

He didn't want to be alone again.

His breath hitched, and he looked up at the figure, his voice raw. "I can’t stop here."

The figure was silent.

Neon swallowed hard. "I want to walk this path with her." His hands shook at his sides. "Even if 

I don’t know where it leads."

A long silence stretched between them. Then—

The figure sighed.

"Aria won't be here forever."

Neon stiffened.

"As the world returns to what it was meant to be, all memories of this time will disappear," the figure said. "Nyxia. Militia. The war. None of it will have ever existed."

Neon felt the blood drain from his face.

"You and Aria will forget each other."

The words struck like a knife to his chest. "No," he whispered.

"You won't remember her."

His pulse roared in his ears. He stumbled back, breath coming fast.

Gone? Everything—gone? All of it, erased like it had never happened?

Every moment they had fought for? Every glance, every scar, every word exchanged?

She wouldn't know him. He wouldn’t know her. It would be like none of this had ever mattered.His hands curled into fists, his entire body shaking. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

"Could you live with that?" the figure asked. "Could you go on after that, looking forward instead of back?"

Neon’s breath hitched.

"Even if it means losing her forever?"

He closed his eyes.

His chest felt like it was caving in, like there was no air left in the world.

He saw Aria again. Not the fighter, not the warrior, not the person who always pushed him to his limits.

Just her.

The girl who had fought through everything. The girl who had survived just like him. The girl who deserved more than this endless war.

She could have a real life.

She could laugh without fear.

She could have Max. And Anne. And Vey. And her family. And all the others.

She could be free. Even if he wasn’t.Neon exhaled slowly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

"I'll do it."

"Even if you´re left all alone?"

He nodded firmly. "Even if I´m left alone. If she could live a normal life, then I´ll fight for that future."

The figure tilted its head slightly.

"I'll break the cycle," Neon said. His fingers trembled, but he clenched them tight. "Even if it means losing her."

Neon exhaled. His hands loosened.

“We’re ending this,” he added.

Sakura watched him. Then, slowly, she nodded.

For the first time as the scene started to dissolve, Neon really looked at the woman standing before him.

And something inside him froze. She looked like Aria.

Not exactly. There were differences—subtle, small. But the resemblance was there, written in the shape of her eyes, in the quiet strength of her expression.

Sakura smiled. Neon stared at her, his throat tightening.

He wanted to say something, but the world was already slipping away.

The dreamscape trembled around them, the walls of the memory fracturing and dissolving into nothing.

Finally.

"Take care of Aria..."