You always think you have time. Time to say "I love you," to ask for forgiveness, to fix things… but sometimes, time decides to leave without warning.
Sophie was running. Again, she couldn't feel her legs anymore, not her breathing either.
Just her heart.
Why now?
Everything had collapsed in a matter of hours.
At noon, her phone had buzzed—one short message from Jazz.
Total emergency. They're taking your mom to psych NOW.
She read it once, twice, three times, like the words might change.
But no.
The narrow streets of Groundward district blurred past without faces. She shoved people aside and didn't even hear the insults. Sweat stuck to her skin. On the walls, Kaissa's holograms looped again and again.
"Prosperity. Security. A better future."
Sophie clenched her teeth.
LIES.
They'd destroyed her little by little—without ever laying a hand on her.
She reached the building, a tired, oppressive block of concrete. She slammed the door open, then sprinted up the stairs.
One floor, two, three, four. Every step hit her chest like a countdown.
Before she even reached the door, she heard the screaming.
"I'm NOT going! You don't have the right!"
Her mother's voice—broken, warped.
"The spirits… they're going to protect me…"
A sob.
"And for you… it's going to be VERY violent…"
Sophie stopped cold. Her hands went ice.
No. Not this. Not now.
She pushed the door open.
Chaos.
The apartment looked smaller than usual. Two orderlies were holding Grace down. She fought them, even though they were too strong for a body as fragile as hers.
Her hair whipped in every direction. Her eyes were terrified and lost, while Jazz circled them, blinking. His metallic barks ripped through the air, his mechanical arms flailing like he wanted to attack, to protect.
Everything flew across the room, books, objects, memories.
"LET HER GO!"
Sophie cut straight through the room. Grace turned her head. Their eyes locked for a second—pure distress.
"Miss, step back."
The voice was cold and empty.
"She must be transported to the psychiatric hospital. It is an Immediate order."
"On what grounds?! Are you kidding me?!"
Her voice shook—not with fear, but rage.
"You break into our place like this?! You treat her like a criminal and call it procedure?!"
"Medical order. She is a danger to herself and to others."
Grace sobbed. Her fingers clung to Sophie's sleeve.
"Sophie… They're lying… They want to shut me off…"
The world tilted. Sophie grabbed her face.
"Mom. Look at me. I'm here."
Her voice broke.
"I'm here…"
A movement. The click of a restraint bracelet. Jazz slammed into the orderly's leg with a metallic noise.
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
"You have NO right without me! I'm her daughter! It takes a judge, approval— I have to sign!"
Thank God I actually took those law classes…
"This is procedure."
Cold and unmovable, one of the orderlies stepped closer to Sophie.
"Look at the paperwork."
Sophie didn't, not right away, because something had shifted.
Grace wasn't fighting anymore. She was staring at the ceiling—at an invisible point. Her lips moved.
"The spirits…"
"They're everywhere…"
"They're watching us…"
A chill crawled up Sophie's spine.
She thought about Aria, the files, the research, the spirits.
Madness? Or a truth nobody wanted to see?
Doubt settled in—silent and dangerous—but Sophie clenched her jaw.
Now, she had no choice.
"Wait. I want to see the signed order. And I want to speak to your supervisor."
"We don't have time. Step back."
Panic rose—brutal, crushing—but she didn't break. Not this time.
"Touch her again…"
Her voice trembled, but her eyes didn't move.
"…and I'm blasting this everywhere. My robot is filming. You'll explain why you're taking a woman without respecting the law."
The younger one hesitated, glanced at the other, a nervous tic at the corner of his mouth.
"You have ten minutes. Then we take her."
They stepped back. Sophie dropped to her knees in front of her.
"Mom…"
Her hand slid over Grace's burning temple.
"I'm here. Can you hear me?"
"Sophie…"
Barely a breath left Grace's mouth.
"I'm tired…"
"I know."
Sophie's voice cracked.
"But you're not alone."
Jazz positioned himself behind them. Silent now, his LEDs pulsing softly. Time slowed and memories rose.
A kitchen, flour on hands, laughter, a song and her mom—so alive.
Not like this. Not at all.
"Stop moving, Sophie… you're going to get it everywhere again!"
The smell of vanilla and sugar. Kids laughing in the shop.
Her mother hadn't always been like this—fragile, faded, maybe crazy.
Before… she filled rooms with colors, light, ideas. She built worlds on stage in a small theater—painting backdrops, shaping masks, pulling magic out of almost nothing.
Then everything cracked. A goodbye with no explanation, then another—colder. And with it, something inside her went dark.
So she tried again. A flower shop, beauty to patch the emptiness. And for a while… it worked. People stopped, smiled, breathed.
Then Kaissa's government—with taxes, bills, bans, constant changes—killed the shop.
MORE EXPENSIVE. MORE OFTEN.
Until the light went out and Grace pulled the shutter down for good.
Then there was no choice. The factory and the same gestures, again and again… Until she forgot who she was.
Sophie struggled to breathe and thought:
They destroyed her… slowly.
"Mom… they want to take you."
"But me…"
She squeezed her hand.
"I'm not letting you go."
Grace blinked slowly, like she was coming back a little.
"There are voices…"
A fragile smile.
"They say I have to cross the Wall… go there…"
Sophie shook her head.
"Not now. You stay here."
A look.
"You could take me…"
Sophie's heart squeezed tight.
Behind her, the two men commented.
"She's delirious. It's in the file."
Sophie's rage snapped back instantly.
"You see someone dangerous right now?!"
"This is procedure."
That word again, so empty. Sophie stood up, spine straight.
"Call your supervisor. I'm not signing anything."
A sigh and a call.
"Central, refusal. Send the team."
The word team hit the air, and Sophie closed her eyes.
She didn't have much time. She had to call Aria, Numa—someone who could help, but her hands were shaking too hard.
Behind her, Grace's voice changed. It was lower, farther away.
"They're coming…"
A chill.
"The spirits… and they know."
Then she started singing softly an old song.
"How can you see into my eyes…
Like open doors?
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb
Without a soul
My spirit sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there"
Sophie pressed her forehead to hers and closed her eyes.
"I swear…"
Her voice cracked.
"I'm going to get you out of here."
"Even if I have to blow EVERYTHING up."
A beat, then a sound in the hallway, footsteps, more than two. Too many.
Sophie lifted her head. The doorknob shifted.
And this time… it wasn't just two orderlies.
The Guardian Angel: Thought is a precious gift from the Great Spirit. It is a key that opens multiple worlds. But like most of His gifts, Grace—like almost all human beings—let her mind fall into neglect, carried by outside influences and foreign intelligences. She let it wander, drift without any guard… and offered it to the surrounding worlds as if it had no value.
To be continued… 🔥
Thank you for reading. What do you think matters to me and your comments mean a lot to me 😍.
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Elea 🤩
Further echoes of this universe can be found here:
https://linktr.ee/worldsreconciled