Reflections of the Same Flame
Diane's Perspective
The Moment Between Moments
The space between realities was thinner than she imagined.
After clawing her way out of the Abyss, Diane had expected clarity. A fresh purpose. Instead, she found herself pulled sideways—not forward—into a place that vibrated with uncertainty. Not evil like the Abyss, nor warm like hope. It was… potential.
And it ached.
She stood in a realm shaped like a half-formed dream. A twilight meadow stretched out under a sky swirling with auroras and constellations she didn't recognize. Everything shimmered, as though undecided if it was real.
Diane turned slowly.
And saw herself.
Not a vision. Not a future. Not a memory.
Herself.
Older—but only slightly. Less worn, but no less burdened. This version stood tall in a flowing jacket embroidered with fractal runes, her hands glowing faintly with stored probability. A roulette wheel hovered beside her, slowly spinning in the air, every tick of its motion humming like clockwork and heartbeat fused together.
Diane's breath caught in her throat. "You…"
The other Diane gave her a knowing smile. "You made it farther than I thought."
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The Same Woman in Two Realities
Diane stepped closer, heart pounding. "You're… me. From another life."
The other Diane nodded. "Same soul. Different book."
They stood just feet apart now, the divide between them nothing but air and unspoken pain.
"I saw Tom," Diane whispered. "I felt Stacy's memory. I walked through a world that claimed I'd erased them. Was that… your world?"
"It was ours," the roulette-wielding Diane said. "But you tried to change it. I tried to atone."
A pause. A soft inhale.
"Now here we are."
The roulette wheel spun behind her, glowing golden symbols blinking across its surface—past, future, chance, loss.
"I didn't mean to destroy anything," Diane said, her voice cracking. "I just wanted to fix it."
"I know," the other Diane said, her tone not judgmental but tired. "That's why we're both here. Fractured by choice. Split by consequence."
They stared at each other, mirrors who had walked different roads and arrived at the same crossroads.
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Training the Self
"Why am I here?" Diane asked. "Why now?"
The other Diane gestured toward a stone bench at the edge of the dreamfield. "Because you've reached the point where you need to remember who you were before the guilt. Before the rewriting. Before the loss. You can't carry this power—your fate, your family's fate—while shattered."
"And you're going to train me?" Diane asked, uncertain.
"No," the other said. "We are going to rebuild. Together."
As they sat, the sky rippled, and images flickered across the air—scenes from both timelines. Jerry's face. Tom as a boy. Stacy reading by the fire. Mike smiling as he vanished. Her own hands over a machine that bent time like thread through a needle.
"You did erase them," the other Diane finally said. "And I chose to forget that truth for a long time."
Diane looked down at her hands. "So what am I now? A mistake?"
"No," the other said gently. "You're the one trying to heal it."
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A Shared Path Forward
The two Dianes stood, their forms beginning to blur, not into each other, but into a synchronized rhythm.
"I won't let the Abyss claim me," Diane whispered.
"And I won't let regret stop you," her counterpart replied.
Then, slowly, she placed her hand on Diane's chest.
Their bond ignited—not magical, not temporal, but personal. The same soul embracing its echoes.
"You're not split anymore," the other Diane said, her voice beginning to fade. "You're whole. Remember that when the next fracture comes."
The roulette wheel began to spin rapidly behind her, glowing so brightly that the dream began to disintegrate.
Diane reached for her, but her hand passed through light.
The realm faded.
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Waking Whole
Diane sat up with a sharp breath, her body whole, her mind steady. She wasn't in the dream-realm anymore. The Abyss was behind her. The fracture was mended, not erased, but acknowledged.
And now?
Now she was more than just a survivor.
She was the keeper of both timelines.
And she had work to do.
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