They stepped out of the server room into the faint dawn light. Dust swirled in the air, glowing in the morning sun that pierced the shattered walls. The museum was still trembling, as though unsure whether it should continue to exist.
Aven felt the silence thrum in his chest, hollow and uncertain.
Rhea touched his shoulder gently. "You're free from that timeline now. The shadow, the thing that hunted you… it's gone."
Aven shivered. "But the museum… it's still here."
Rhea nodded. "Because there are countless other futures trapped in these halls. Some harmless, some dying, some… waiting to live again."
Aven clenched his fists. "I don't want this place to rewrite anyone else the way it tried with me."
Rhea's eyes flashed with determination. "Then let's finish this. We shut it down completely."
They made their way through the wreckage of the upper floors, past display cases that still flickered with impossible images—cities on fire, seas of glass, crowds cheering for leaders who never existed.
Finally, they reached the control center, where a massive terminal sat behind reinforced glass. Rhea smashed the glass with the hilt of her knife, then set to work on the console.
"This will wipe the entire archive," she said, fingers flying over the keys. "All stored futures, all failed timelines—gone."
Aven hesitated. "Are you sure we should? What if there's something worth saving?"
Rhea paused, her gaze meeting his. "The only future that matters… is the one we choose to make real."
She hit the final command. The museum shuddered violently, alarms blaring as the servers began to melt from within. Aven grabbed Rhea's hand as the walls cracked, the floor splitting beneath them.
Rhea grinned through the chaos. "We're going to survive this," she whispered.
Aven squeezed her hand back, hope rising in his chest. "Yeah," he breathed. "We are."
As the museum began to collapse, they ran toward the light spilling in through the crumbling entrance, ready to leave the dead futures behind.