The Hall of Memories

The light enveloped Nate completely as he stepped through the swirling vortex, and for a brief, dizzying moment, it felt like he was being stretched and compressed at the same time. When the sensation faded, he found himself standing in a vast, endless expanse.

The Hall of Memories wasn't a hall in the traditional sense. There were no walls or ceiling—just an infinite void filled with floating orbs of light, each one glowing softly like a captured star. The floor beneath his feet shimmered like glass, reflecting the orbs above.

"Okay," Nate muttered, turning in a slow circle. "This is… trippy."

Lira stood beside him, her usual composed demeanor intact. "The Hall of Memories isn't bound by the laws of physics. It exists between dimensions—a repository for the truths and secrets of the multiverse."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Right. And you just happen to have a key to this place?"

She gave him a sharp look. "No one does. It only opens to those it deems worthy—or necessary."

"Well, that's comforting," Nate said, sarcasm thick in his voice.

As if in response, one of the orbs floated down toward him, stopping just inches from his face. It pulsed gently, radiating a warmth that felt oddly familiar.

"What do I do with it?" Nate asked, glancing at Lira.

"Touch it," she said simply.

Nate hesitated, then slowly reached out. The moment his fingers brushed the orb's surface, it exploded into a cascade of light, engulfing him.

---

Suddenly, Nate was no longer in the Hall. He was… home.

The scene before him was painfully familiar: his childhood bedroom, cluttered with action figures, comic books, and half-finished science projects. He was sitting at his desk, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Except it wasn't him. It was a younger version of him—maybe ten years old.

"What the…" Nate whispered, stepping closer.

"You're witnessing your own memory," Lira's voice said, though she was nowhere to be seen. "Stay quiet. Just observe."

The younger Nate looked up as the door to his room creaked open. A man stepped inside—tall, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Nate's father.

"Dad?" Nate whispered, his chest tightening.

The scene played out like a movie, oblivious to Nate's presence. His father approached the desk, placing a hand on young Nate's shoulder.

"Still working on your big project?" his father asked, his voice warm and full of pride.

Young Nate nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I'm building a machine that can… that can—"

"Travel between worlds," his father finished, smiling knowingly.

Nate froze. "Wait. What?"

The younger version of him beamed. "Yeah! I read all those books you gave me, and I think I figured out how to make it work!"

His father crouched beside him, lowering his voice. "That's my boy. But remember, Nate… if you ever finish it, you have to keep it a secret. The world isn't ready for what you can do."

The memory shattered like glass, and Nate was back in the Hall, his breathing ragged.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, spinning to face Lira, who had reappeared beside him.

She studied him carefully, her expression unreadable. "It seems the answers you're looking for are tied to your past. Your father… he knew about the multiverse."

Nate shook his head. "No. That's not possible. He was just a regular guy—a scientist, sure, but nothing like this."

"Apparently, he was more than you realized," Lira said, her tone softening slightly. "The machine you built… could it be the reason the dimensions are collapsing?"

Nate's heart sank. He remembered the countless hours he spent tinkering with gadgets, always pushing boundaries. But a machine to travel between worlds? That was supposed to be a dream, not… reality.

Before he could respond, another orb floated down, this one pulsing more urgently.

Lira nodded toward it. "There's more to see."

Nate hesitated, then reached out again, bracing himself for whatever came next.

---

This time, the memory was darker. A shadowy laboratory filled with strange, humming machines. Older Nate—maybe in his late teens—was arguing with someone.

"You don't understand!" Nate shouted. "This could change everything!"

The other person, hidden in the shadows, replied in a harsh, distorted voice. "You're meddling with forces beyond your comprehension. If you activate that machine, you'll destroy more than you save."

Nate clenched his fists. "I'm not trying to destroy anything! I'm trying to fix what's broken!"

The shadowy figure stepped forward, revealing a face Nate didn't recognize but somehow felt familiar—a woman with sharp features and glowing green eyes.

"Then you'd better be ready for the consequences," she said, her voice echoing ominously.

The memory faded, leaving Nate feeling hollow.

---

Back in the Hall, Nate turned to Lira, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to… I didn't know…"

She placed a hand on his shoulder, her gaze steady. "You didn't cause this alone, Nate. But now it's your responsibility to help fix it."

"How?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The Hall of Memories will guide us to the answers," she said. "But first, you need to face the truth about what you've done—and what you're capable of."

As another orb floated toward him, Nate took a deep breath. He had a feeling this was just the beginning of a much bigger reckoning.