What if every seven days, you became a stranger to your own life?

Elira wakes up in new lives every week—different names, unfamiliar places, yet the same haunting questions. With memories that don’t belong to her and a face she can’t forget, one man stands at the center of it all: Kael.

He claims to be her anchor—the keeper of her lost past. But as Elira uncovers fragments of truth, she begins to question everything: Kael’s intentions, her friends’ loyalty, and the very nature of her identity.

In a world where memory resets and nothing is what it seems, Elira must choose: reclaim who she was… or risk everything to become who she was meant to be.

"Tethered"

But some choose to shatter themselves…

The city lay in post-war silence, suspended in a strange stillness—like time itself was catching its breath.

Kael stood at the edge of the rooftop, watching the horizon fracture under the weight of overlapping realities. Shards of timelines still floated in the air, faint reflections of lives that could've been. Lives they'd almost lived.

Elira approached, her boots crunching over debris laced with silken thread. Her voice was low, wary.

"You remember all of them, don't you?"

Kael didn't turn. "Every loop. Every version of you. Even the ones that didn't survive long enough to awaken."

Elira with white hair, crying over a broken violin.

Elira as a runaway, bleeding in an alley.

Elira in a wedding dress, standing alone.

Elira, again and again, losing herself.

And Kael, always watching. Always anchoring.

"I was built to store the pain you couldn't carry," he said. "But that pain… changed me."

Elira's voice cracked. "You were never just a vault."

"I became real because I chose to care. Even when you forgot me, I remembered you."

Then she stepped closer, lifting a faintly glowing shard.

"This is from you," she said. "It didn't belong to the war. It's part of your origin."

"That's my memory shard. The one Christine hid from me."

"I think it's time you remember who you really are."

The moment Kael touched it, the world trembled.

And suddenly, they were standing in a quiet room… a childhood memory frozen in amber.

A little boy—Kael—crying beside a woman tied to a chair, her mind fracturing from memory overload. The Ouroboros sigil burned into the wall behind her.

"If we control memory, we control truth. Make him forget, and she'll follow."

Kael staggered back, breath catching.

"That's… my mother. They used me as the first anchor. I wasn't born. I was made."

Elira stepped beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You were forged from memory, Kael. But you're not their weapon anymore."

And Kael's eyes shimmered—not with pain, but with clarity.

"I remember everything now," he whispered. "Even the first thread."

The anchor and the shard fused in his palm—forming a new kind of weapon. Not for war… but for remembrance.

The true final battle wasn't against enemies.

Chapter 22 – The Anchor and the Shard