Chapter 160: The World He Created

Eden woke to the sound of rain. For a few seconds, he didn’t move. He lay perfectly still, staring at the ceiling while water tapped against the window beside him. The room smelled faintly of dust and old wood, and somewhere downstairs a clock ticked with an irritating consistency. His body felt heavy, real in a way the white space had never felt. He could feel the mattress beneath his back, the cold floor beyond the edge of the bed, even the slow rhythm of his own breathing.

Then he remembered Aria, the Witnesses, the books, the faceless creature, the photograph, and the final words: Chapter One begins now. Eden sat up. This wasn’t the hospital. He looked around the room. A small wooden desk sat beside the window, a bookshelf occupied the opposite wall, and children’s drawings covered the walls, most of them faded with age. A toy car lay on the floor near the closet, its paint chipped from years of use. Eden knew this room. He had seen it before. Not in a dream. Not in a memory. Here. He just couldn’t remember when.

The bedroom door slowly opened and a woman stepped inside. Eden stopped breathing. It was his mother. She looked younger than he remembered, much younger. Smiling gently, she asked if he was awake. Eden could only stare before finally whispering, "Mom?" She walked into the room and told him he’d had a nightmare. Looking toward the window, he asked what day it was. When she answered Saturday, he immediately asked what year it was. She laughed softly and questioned why he was asking, but when he insisted, she hesitated before answering, "2011."

Eden’s stomach dropped. He looked down at his hands. Small. Again. Six years old. He jumped out of bed, and his mother immediately grabbed his shoulder, asking what was wrong. Pulling away, he told her he needed to see the tree outside. She looked confused and asked what tree he meant. When he clarified that he meant the old oak, she told him it had been cut down years ago. The words froze him in place. Then he ran past her and down the stairs.

The house was different. Not completely, but enough to feel wrong. The staircase was the same. So were the kitchen and hallway. Yet a picture hung where none should have been, a door existed where a wall should have stood, and the furniture sat in unfamiliar arrangements. Eden burst through the front door and into the rain. There was no tree. Only a patch of muddy ground. He stood there breathing hard as his mother caught up behind him.

When he asked where Aria was, she went completely still. Confused, she asked who Aria was. Eden insisted that Aria was his sister and that she had died. For a split second, he saw fear flash across his mother’s face before it vanished. She denied everything. She claimed he had no sister. When he insisted otherwise, tears filled her eyes, but they weren’t the tears of grief. They were fear. Grabbing his shoulders, she told him never to say that name again. Eden realized she remembered something, even if she refused to admit it.

His mother kept glancing toward the house and the street. Finally, her voice dropped to a whisper as she begged him to go inside. When he asked why, she looked directly into his eyes and said someone was watching them. Eden turned slowly and saw a man standing beneath an umbrella across the street. Brown coat. Dark hair. Glasses. Elias. Before Eden could react, his mother grabbed him and tried to pull him inside. Elias raised a hand, not in greeting but in warning, then turned and disappeared into the rain.

That night Eden couldn’t sleep. His mother had locked every door and checked every window repeatedly, yet she refused to explain anything. She kept telling him he was safe, though she sounded unconvinced herself. Lying beneath the blankets, he stared into the darkness while rain tapped against the glass. Then a voice whispered his name from beneath the bed.

Eden froze. He recognized the voice immediately and whispered Luna’s name. Silence followed. Then the voice warned him not to look. Slowly sitting up, he asked where she was. The answer came from beneath the bed. Looking down, he saw two small hands gripping the edge of the mattress. His heart nearly stopped. A moment later, a little girl crawled into view. She had black hair, pale skin, and pitch-black eyes. It wasn’t Luna. Not exactly. She looked younger.

The girl smiled and told him he shouldn’t remember her. When Eden asked who she was, she introduced herself as Nobody. The name sent a chill through him. He asked where Luna was. Nobody explained that Luna had stayed behind, inside him. Placing a hand against his chest, Eden felt the faint warmth still there. It was weak but unmistakably real. When he asked why he couldn’t hear her, Nobody explained that Luna didn’t want him to. If he woke her, he would remember the second story.

Confused, Eden asked what that meant. Nobody told him that this world was the first story. When he questioned that, she corrected him. His life was the first story. This world was something else entirely. Leaning closer, she smiled and told him it was the story he had created to escape his life. The words left him cold.

Before he could ask anything else, the bedroom door swung open. His mother stood there. The moment she saw Nobody, she screamed and ordered her away from Eden. Nobody didn’t move. Eden stepped between them, demanding to know why his mother was so afraid. The answer shocked him. She claimed Nobody had died before he was born.

Nobody calmly agreed. Then she pointed at the woman standing in the doorway and said something even worse. That wasn’t his mother.

The room fell silent. Eden looked between them, unable to understand. Nobody told him to ask her what she remembered. So he did. He asked where he was born, what his favorite food was, and what his father’s name was. The woman couldn’t answer a single question. Her face became blank. Empty. Stepping backward, Eden asked who she really was.

When she finally answered, the voice wasn’t human. It simply said, "A witness."

Nobody immediately moved in front of him. The woman’s body began to crack like porcelain. Black lines spread across her face while her eyes turned completely white. Smiling, she declared that the story had begun. Darkness leaked through cracks spreading across the bedroom walls. Every clock in the house stopped at once.

Then another voice echoed from the hallway. One word. "Enough."

Elias stepped into the room. He looked exhausted and older than before. Most surprising of all, he was carrying a gun. Eden stared at him in disbelief. Ignoring the reaction, Elias pointed the weapon directly at the creature and ordered it away from the boy. The creature reminded him that Witnesses were forbidden from interfering. Elias admitted he knew that. Then, looking at Eden, he said he had already broken the rule once.

Before anyone could ask what he meant, he fired. The gunshot shook the room. Black liquid sprayed across the wall as the creature’s head snapped backward. Eden flinched while Nobody dragged him behind the bed. Elias fired again, but the creature only laughed. The bullet wounds sealed themselves immediately.

Nobody quietly explained the truth. The thing in front of them wasn’t a Witness at all. It was the story’s mother.

Eden asked what that meant, but Nobody only replied that this world had never been meant to have a father. Slowly, the creature’s appearance began changing. The cracks vanished. The white eyes darkened. Its face shifted until Eden found himself staring at the white-eyed version of himself from the ending.

The creature smiled and welcomed him home.

When Eden denied remembering anything, the creature insisted he should. It told him that he had created this world. He had created his mother, his house, his childhood, and every happy memory he’d ever cherished. As the room trembled around them, the creature claimed Eden had built all of it because the real world had been too painful to endure. Then it delivered the worst accusation of all. After creating this world, he had forgotten he was the one who made it.

Eden screamed for it to stop.

The entire house exploded into white light. Elias vanished. Nobody vanished. The false mother vanished. Walls, ceiling, and floor disappeared. Eden fell through endless darkness before slamming onto cold stone.

When he opened his eyes, rain was falling around him. He was beneath the old tree, the same tree that supposedly no longer existed. Sitting beside him was a woman with silver hair and a white dress. Aria.

She looked at him and quietly said that he remembered now. Eden asked if he had truly created this world. Aria shook her head and told him someone else had done it. Then she pointed toward the opposite side of the tree.

A little boy stood there.

He was six years old. He had Eden’s face. He had black eyes. And he was holding the original photograph.

The boy smiled and told him welcome back. Then he turned the photograph around. There were no longer seven children in the picture. There were eight.

Eden looked closer. The eighth child stood directly behind him. It had no face.

Beneath the photograph, written in fresh black ink, were four words:

I REMEMBER EVERYTHING NOW.