An End, A Beginning

This can’t be real. We had won the battle, but we had utterly lost the war against Nowy. How could Inertia possibly withstand the attacks on her all alone?

Without thinking too much about the consequences, I tried starting a new call through the Live app. As expected, there was no answer, not to any of the five calls I made.

I returned to Versus and spent the next thirty minutes waiting for the button to activate for a new combat, but it never did.

It was already past five in the morning, and I was still restless in my room. There was no way something serious had happened to her. They wouldn’t hurt her… would they?

The whole situation reminded me of the time I had lost contact with Inertia before, and I only managed to reconnect when Zeit reached out to me.

So, without wasting any time, I left and headed straight for Filip Nowak’s clinic.

Since it was outside business hours, the building wasn’t open yet. Even so, I rang the bell and pounded on the door countless times, calling out for Zeit, but there was no answer.

My only option was to wait.

I stayed at the convenience store next door until the building staff arrived, and at the first opportunity, I asked for an appointment with Inertia’s father.

“Good morning. I’d like to speak with Dr. Filip Nowak.”

“Do you already have an appointment?” she asked.

“I need an emergency walk-in appointment. It’s urgent!” I shouted, my voice breaking as I lost control.

Every second Inertia spent in that place meant her chances of survival were slipping away. All I needed was to get inside the building.

The receptionist gave me a strange look and picked up the phone to call the clinic.

“Sir, you’re in the wrong place. There’s no doctor by the name of Filip Nowak here.”

“What do you mean? I was here just last month for an appointment with him!”

“He may have changed his practice location, sir…”

“Then book me with the on-call doctor,” I said, desperation creeping into my voice.

All I needed was to get to room 10.

It didn’t take long for the receptionist to direct me to another clinic on a different floor. But instead of going there, I headed straight up to the floor I had visited before.

When I arrived, there was nothing. The entire floor was empty and dark. I hesitated for a few seconds, but went down anyway. Inertia’s life was at risk, and I knew Zeit wouldn’t harm me.

I had barely taken ten slow steps out of the elevator when I was attacked from behind by one of the men in black. He dragged me to the center of the abandoned floor, tied me up, gagged me, and forced me into a chair.

The place was dim, with only faint patches of natural light spilling in from outside. Zeit had apparently been there all along, and after a while, he emerged from the shadows.

“Rei, thank you again for coming to us, but I’m releasing you from the experiment.

You were the right choice for Inertia, but as you can see, everything went wrong because of Nowy’s illegal schemes. I underestimated them.

I had to intervene, and I don’t know what will happen there in the days to come.

I’m freeing you from this challenge without erasing your memories, out of respect for your effort and for the way you followed the rules that were set. I’m doing this so you won’t become another victim.

I’m taking this phone back. I ask that you leave everything that happened behind and never look for me again.

Thank you for your help,” he said, truly grateful, though his eyes were cold.

I was outraged by what I had just heard.

This couldn’t be happening.

Did he really expect me to accept all this calmly? And on top of it, take the phone away from me? How—

…

Before I even realized it, I lost consciousness, and the next moment I was back on the same bench in the plaza as before.

This time, I went home with my sanity in pieces and no hope left at all.

In desperation, I gathered and reviewed all the evidence that proved everything had been real, it obviously was, and left it on the table in plain sight.

I spent the following weeks searching anywhere I could for the slightest trace of Inertia, but found nothing. Not even the school records from the region held her name. Her old house had been completely destroyed, leaving nothing but an empty lot behind. I was utterly blind, without a single clue about her. The more I searched, the more it all seemed like nothing but my own madness. My mind stayed sane only because of those small pieces of proof, like Toby.

A whole month had passed since my last contact with Inertia, and I was falling apart.

I was haunted by daily nightmares, consumed by guilt, and my moods swung wildly. I had reached the point where I no longer left the house, and my friends and family finally took me to a clinic for a specialized evaluation, hoping it would help me pull through.

Maybe keeping my memories hadn’t been the best choice.

“Post-traumatic stress disorder. That’s your diagnosis. We’ll need to begin trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy,” the doctor and psychotherapist said.

“One of the pillars of your treatment will be gradually recalling your memories and trauma triggers. That way, your brain will learn that remembering is not dangerous and that there is no real threat. This will help you get back to your daily activities,” he continued.

At first, I thought it would be useless, that reliving everything would only make it worse.

But it didn’t turn out that way.

I began recalling and describing what had happened in detail during the weekly sessions, always with his support. At the end of each appointment, I wrote a report.

I don’t know what the doctor thought of my traumatic experience, but I left nothing out. Everything I told him was exactly as it happened. Did he believe me? I can’t say… but my true intention in revealing everything was for Zeit to find me again.

Gradually, I started returning to my normal activities, like going to school and studying for the college entrance exams.

I had to move on with my life, even though I had failed Inertia.

Thirty-four weeks had passed since the incident, and because I was relatively stable, the doctor ended my cognitive behavioral therapy today, when I wrote my thirty-fourth and final report. 

I was waiting in the reception area to pay for the session while watching the morning news.

♫ “Good morning, everyone. We’re here beside Gidan Station, reporting that today’s trains will be running at reduced speed due to a mechanical failure on a train heading toward…” ♫

As I listened, I looked up to see what had happened, since the clinic was nearby and I would need that train to get home.

“This can’t be… that girl who just walked past the reporter… that was Inertia, wasn’t it?” I said aloud, unable to believe what I’d just seen.

I rushed out of the clinic without paying and sprinted toward the train station where the broadcast was taking place.

Before I even got there, I passed a girl who looked about fifteen or sixteen, with long brown hair streaked with orange highlights.

It was Inertia. In the flesh.

Because I was running, I went right past her. I stopped, still out of breath, turned back, and called her name.

“Inertia!”

She turned, gave me a puzzled look, and said, “Who are you?”

What do you mean, who am I?!

“My name is Rei—” But before I could finish, my phone started ringing nonstop.

I picked it up, silenced it, and went on speaking.

“We met before—” But again, the phone cut me off, ringing once more.

“It sounds urgent. Why don’t you answer it?” she said.

“You’re right. Just a second.” Reluctantly, I took the call, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do right then.

“Hello?”

“Rei, don’t you dare say another word to her. There’s a rifle scope trained on your head right now, and I won’t hesitate to shoot.” It was Zeit’s voice on the line.

I held the phone to my ear, still staring at Inertia. A red dot appeared on her blouse, its beam coming from behind me, the unmistakable mark of a sniper’s sight.

“I managed to bring her back against all odds. Apparently the hyperbaric machine used to treat the wound on her thigh also repaired the possible neurological damage that kept her unconscious during the coma. I had to erase her memories in the middle of it all.”

“How can you be so selfish? What happened to the others?” I demanded.

“My sole goal in going back in time was to bring Inertia back to consciousness, and I succeeded. Selfish or not, Inertia is alive, and I can see you’ve managed to move on with your life.

There’s nothing more to worry about. Live your life, and let Inertia live hers. Do not interfere with the course of her new life. Let her follow her own path.”

He hung up.

“Was that someone important?” she asked after waiting for me all that time.

“It was… it was someone important. I’m sorry, I mistook you for someone who meant a great deal to me… I have to go now.” Tears streamed down my face, no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.

“My condolences,” she said, resting her hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you,” I whispered, turning away.

I should have been happy. So why did I feel so unbearably sad?

I went back to the clinic and asked the doctor to let me rewrite the ending of my thirty-fourth report.

To begin anew, an ending is inevitable, and that doesn’t necessarily mean it must be a happy one. Life is built on choices and decisions, and the one that allows us to move forward is acceptance. Accepting a situation doesn’t mean giving up or leaving something behind, but rather acknowledging that what happened cannot be undone and being open to whatever comes next.

And so I close my narration, recalling a story out of the ordinary that happened to me in 2025.

End of Report 34