Centuries later.

The world has shifted.
Cities rise, collapse, rise again.
He's still here.
Different name,
different shadow,
same silence.

And then—
her.

Not the old woman
with silver hair and maine coons.
Not the teenager
typing nvm in the dark.
Someone new.
Same soul.
He knows it.

Young again.
Bright.
Alive.
She laughs,
and for him
the centuries collapse into a single sound.

She walks with a maine coon
trotting at her side.
Different life.
Different time.
But the thread is there,
pulled tight between them.

He wants to reach out.
To say her name—
the one she no longer knows.
But she looks happy now.
Whole.
Not someone who needs saving.
Not someone who needs him.

So he doesn't.

Just once,
their eyes meet.
And he says only:
"Are you alright?"

She blinks.
Confused, but smiling.
"Yes."

He nods.
Almost bows.
And adds, softly,
"I'm sorry."

Then he walks away.
She never knows why.
He never forgets.

They don't meet again.