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Chapter 8 - Descent Into Memory

The Chronocapsule's hatch hissed open, its interior bathed in a cold, sterile light. Mira hesitated at the threshold, her fingers trembling as she adjusted the neural interface. Behind her, the team moved with silent urgency—Felix calibrating the time anchors, Linh monitoring the anomaly's pulse, Arjun and Kiran checking the emergency override.

"You're sure about this?" Kiran asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

Mira managed a thin smile. "No. But we don't have another choice."

Felix gave her a nod, his usual bravado tempered by worry. "We'll keep you tethered. If anything feels wrong, signal us."

Mira slid into the capsule. The hatch sealed, plunging her into darkness. She closed her eyes as the neural link engaged, the world dissolving into a cascade of fractured light and sound.

For a moment, she floated—weightless, unmoored. Then the knot's spiral appeared before her, vast and spinning, pulling her down.

She landed with a jolt.

The world around her was both familiar and alien: a narrow hallway lined with faded wallpaper, the scent of old books and rain-soaked earth. Her childhood home. Every detail was sharp, painfully vivid.

A shadow flickered at the end of the hall. Mira's heart hammered as she stepped forward, each footfall echoing with memories she'd tried to bury.

"Elara?" she called, her voice trembling.

The silhouette turned. For an instant, Mira saw the face of the girl she'd lost—eyes wide with hope and accusation, lips forming a single word:

"Why?"

Mira's breath caught. The knot pulsed in her mind, threads tightening around her heart.

Behind her, the hallway warped, the walls twisting into impossible angles. The shadow advanced, its form shifting—sometimes Elara, sometimes a faceless void.

Mira forced herself to stand her ground. "I'm here. I won't run this time."

The shadow paused, the air thick with sorrow and anger.

To heal the tapestry, you must face your own regrets.

Mira took a trembling breath and stepped into the darkness, determined to find the truth at the heart of her memory—no matter what it cost.

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