Lory's pov

*present time*

The air was cold, biting against my skin as I sat in the hallway, the silence pressing down on me like a heavy weight. I was the last one, the only one left, and the chill felt sharper with each passing second. They were calling it "the last procedure"—a way to cleanse the memories that shouldn't be there, to fix what had been broken.

I'd watched the others go in before me. One by one, they emerged—different. Lighter, almost, but with a vacancy in their gaze that left a knot in my stomach. Each person who walked out was changed, and it was impossible not to notice the shadow that lingered behind their eyes.

Finally, they were ready for me. After the earlier malfunction, the faculty had said everything was fixed—no more delays, no more errors. My name was called, and a chill ran down my spine.

I took a deep breath as the door opened, and I stepped into the chamber, the bright, sterile light blinding me for a moment. A faint hum buzzed in my ears, the room vibrating with the low, mechanical sound of the machinery. As I settled into the cold metal chair, the restraints clicked into place around my wrists, and I caught a glimpse of the monitors flickering, a brief glitch that almost went unnoticed. A technician frowned, tapping on the screen, but no one said anything.

The faculty member overseeing the procedure gave a brisk nod, signalling that they were ready to begin. I tried to steady my breathing as the machine hummed louder, surrounding me with the faint scent of ozone and a dull warmth. My eyes darted to the glass wall separating me from the control panel, just as a flash of warning lights blinked on one of the consoles—another flicker, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. The faculty exchanged a quick glance, their expressions unreadable, but continued with the process.

The hum grew louder, enveloping me until it was all I could hear, all I could feel. I closed my eyes and let the vibrations pull me under, not noticing the subtle tremor in the air—the kind that makes you wonder if something's gone wrong but doesn't give you enough to hold onto.

For a split second, the room dimmed, and I felt a strange pressure in my mind, like someone pressing down on an old bruise. Then it was gone, replaced by a strange emptiness.

Everything happened quickly after that. Voices I couldn't quite make out, instructions I barely understood. They told me to relax, to breathe deeply. I felt a sharp prick in my arm, and then the world blurred around me. My mind felt like it was unravelling, falling away piece by piece.

I blinked.

The next thing I knew, I was standing in the hallway. I didn't remember getting here. The walls felt narrower, the world too bright, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off. Like waking from a dream you can't quite remember, the details slipping away the more you try to hold onto them. I knew where I was, knew my name, my purpose, everything I'd done to get here. But there was a hollow space in my mind, a place that felt empty but not quite erased.

The memory of someone—someone important—was missing. But I couldn't grasp it, couldn't even find the words to ask. I shook my head, trying to focus, but the more I reached for the missing piece, the further it seemed to drift.

I felt disoriented, like I'd just woken up from a vivid dream I couldn't quite remember. My mind was heavy, fogged over, and I stood there, unsure of where I was supposed to go next. The hallway seemed endless, each turn identical to the last. I took a step forward, my legs moving on instinct, until I heard a sound—a quiet, muffled sob echoing down the hall.

(Argenta's POV)

I could feel the weight of what was about to happen pressing down on me, even before the door clicked shut behind me. My mind was clear, but the anticipation of what they were going to do left a gnawing dread in my stomach. The corridors felt colder, longer, and each step echoed louder than it should have. I knew what was coming, knew what I was about to lose, but it didn't make it any easier to bear. I kept my eyes fixed on the sterile floor, my hands clenched tight against my sides.

I had to keep walking, to keep moving. If I stopped, I was sure the pain would swallow me whole.

But then I heard footsteps—a soft shuffle that made me freeze in place. I wasn't alone. I darted into a small alcove, my back pressed against the wall, my breaths coming fast and shallow. He was coming. I knew it without looking, felt the familiar pull in my chest, the ache that refused to fade, no matter how many memories they tried to rip away.

The footsteps stopped, and for a moment, there was silence. I didn't dare move, didn't dare make a sound. But the pain was too much—the tightness in my chest, the crushing emptiness that had replaced something precious. A sob tore its way out before I could stop it, a strangled sound that echoed down the empty hallway.

The footsteps started again, slow and cautious, and I knew he was coming closer. I couldn't stop the tears, couldn't stop the shuddering gasps that broke free one after another. I tried to hide my face, to bury the sound of my grief, but it was no use.

Then, suddenly, he was there—kneeling beside me. His voice was soft, gentle, and hearing it felt like a knife to the heart. "Hey," he said, the word barely more than a whisper. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

I looked up, and for a split second, I forgot everything. His eyes, the warmth in them, the concern that made my heart ache—it was all him. But he didn't recognize me. I could see it in the confusion in his gaze, the way his brow furrowed as if he couldn't quite place what he was seeing.

"I'm about to lose everyone I love," I choked out, the words tumbling free before I could stop them. I was shaking, and I knew I was giving too much away, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. I saw the flash of pain in his eyes, and the tightening of his jaw, and it made me want to cry harder. He didn't know. He didn't know me.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice rough with something I couldn't name. "Who are you?"

I tried to smile, tried to hide the heartbreak that was threatening to tear me apart. "You wouldn't understand," I said, my voice barely holding together. "You can't."

"I want to," he said, and there was a desperation in his voice that made it even harder to breathe. "Maybe I can help."

A bitter laugh escaped me, a sound that felt as empty as the corridor around us. "No one can help me," I said. "Not now." I watched him closely, searching his face for any sign, any flicker of recognition, but there was nothing. Nothing but the worry and confusion that only made my heart sink deeper. "What's your name?" I asked, even though I knew the answer, even though the very question felt like rubbing salt into an open wound.

"Lorcan," he said, his name falling from his lips like a stranger's.

I forced myself to nod, to act like it didn't tear me apart to hear it, to see him looking at me without a trace of understanding. "Of course it is."

He frowned, and I could see the frustration in his eyes, the way he was struggling to piece together a puzzle he couldn't even see.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight, and reached out. My fingers brushed his arm—just a light touch, but it was enough. Enough to feel the spark that was still there, buried beneath layers of confusion and forgotten memories. Enough to remind me that, we would always be connected.

"Who are you?" he asked again, and I could hear the raw edge in his voice, the need for answers he'd never find.

"I'll give you a hint," I said, my voice breaking on the words, barely more than a whisper. "It means silver."

His eyes widened, but before he could speak, before he could ask the question I knew was coming, I forced myself to stand. My legs felt weak, unsteady, but I turned and walked away, my heart breaking with each step that carried me further from him. I didn't look back. I couldn't. If I saw his face again—saw that emptiness where recognition should have been—I wouldn't be able to keep going.

I heard him say the word behind me, repeating it over and over. "Silver." His voice echoed down the empty corridor, a broken plea that shattered something deep inside me.

I kept walking, my steps quickening until I was almost running, fleeing from the pain, from the empty space inside me that would never, ever be whole again.

Author's note:

There we go. The last chapter. I know the book has a lot of loopholes and errors but I love it so goddamn much. If you made it till here, thank you for reading this. I probably should not say this because I'm a master procrastinator but I'm planning to make a book 2 hehe. If I do, it'll be called "What It Means". But again, it's me, so I would not expect me to write it anytime soon. Anyway, I shall take your leave now, matey. I've changed a lot since when I started writing this and I think it's visible as the chapters progress. And I'm so proud of where I am now. I guess it's only fair I say it. This book means so much to me because it was the only good thing going on in my life when everything else was messed up. These characters are my friends and I'm so happy I could finally finish this story. But hey, here's to the 16 year old me who found something new to do, we made it.

Bye bye people. See you soon!<3

I also wanna thank these people hehe

@harshita_dhawan who motivated me to write this in the first place and supporting me at literally everything I do. I love you yaar<3<3 This book wouldn't exist without you. Thank you for being my best friend<3 (ps hazel is still coming in the next book)

and well this one other person I have to thank

(should I just roast you babe?)

jk this guy has made me happy in a way I'd never been before. I guess I found the Lory to my Argenta. The guy who read the whole book in a day when he found out about it. And who can't wait till lab exams are over so he can read the latest ones. I love you dumbu<3

person in question: ducks nandy aka @boiboi17282929 (muahh)