Light.

Gentle, warm light, peeking through the edge of the curtains. The warm softness of the mattress. The smell of salty breakfast food. The distant sound of people talking and laughing.

Soothing, everyday things.

How long had I taken that sort of thing for granted? How long had it been since I'd intellectualized pain, and forgotten what it was like to feel real fear and palpable despair?

Staying in comfortable apartments... Going to fancy schools in big cities... Doing fun things with friends all day... For someone who was supposed to be punishing themselves, I sure had lived a nice, carefree life.

In a way, staring at Ran's corpse in that moment, having lost everything...

That was the most I'd felt like myself in a long time, wasn't it? Like my real self.

In that moment, I hadn't been thinking of absolution at all. The only thing I'd wanted... Was to be safe. To be somewhere warm and gentle, where the source of my pain simply did not exist. Where it hadn't happened.

It was so strange. Could it be called a blessing? Or a curse?

Why the world seemed so happy to grant my wishes, but only when they were selfish?

Thud, thud.

Someone was knocking at the door.

I groaned, struggling to open my eyes. My head hurt, though only a little, like you'd expect from the last hour of a fading migraine. I rubbed my eyes, blinking repeatedly and looking around.

I was in the bedroom which had been assigned to me in the abbey, lying in bed in my pajamas. Nothing seemed amiss in the room. The painting of the original version of the lodge still hung beside the bed frame. The water clock, currently displaying 10:38, was still sitting on the bedside table, along with the adventure novel Ran had loaned me, now turned with its back facing the ceiling. The floor was intact. My things still laid on the dresser.

Everything... Seemed normal. And, yet--

Thud, thud. Another knock. "Hey," the voice said. "Anyone alive in there?"

I recognized the husky, aloof voice. It belonged to Sacnicte.

Sacnicte..? But--

I rubbed my eyes, scrunching my brow. "...yeah," I said blearily. "What is it?"

"Sorry to wake you," she said, not sounding like she actually cared one way or the other. "Your friend asked me to come check up on you since it's so late. And to say that we're about to clear out breakfast, so if you want anything, you better come down now."

"Okay," I replied. "Thanks."

I heard her stepping away, but I kept staring at the door for a few seconds longer, my eyes slowly widening. I looked over the room for a second time, unable to quite accept what I was seeing.

I sat up properly, reaching over for my glasses. I pulled my bed sheet back, looking over my body.

Everything... Was normal. My chest and legs were completely unharmed.

Cautiously, like I was worried the whole room was going to explode, I stepped over to the dresser where I'd left my logic engine, and pushed my palm into the false iron. I consulted its internal clock.

It was the 30th of April. The day after the conclave.

The day I'd just lived.

I heard voices again, this time from a different angle. I stepped over to the window and drew back the curtain, my eyes squinting at the artificed light.

There, wandering beneath the wooden eaves of that carefully-cultivated yet half-wild garden, were figures I recognized setting out in the direction of the Order's inner sanctum. I saw Seth and Bardiya talking together, with Ptolema a little behind, distracted by a golem trimming a rosebush. Yantho was there too, carrying a sack of dirty laundry, with Theodoros pushing his father in a wheelchair behind him.

It was just like the last time I'd looked out this window. I'd been here before.

However... This time...