I stepped closer to them.
Not too fast.
Not too suddenly.
Both of them looked up at me — two familiar faces, two sets of eyes waiting for something they couldn’t yet name.
I studied them quietly for a moment.
Clone-1’s breathing was steady now, her shoulders no longer tense, but her hands were still clasped together in her lap — holding herself together.
Clone-2 stood rigid, alert.
Her fear was no longer loud, but it hadn’t gone anywhere.
It sat just beneath the surface.
I needed them clear.
I needed them here.
“Are you both…” I began, then paused, choosing my words carefully, “emotionally stable right now?”
They didn’t answer immediately.
Clone-1 nodded first.
Slowly.
“I think so,” she said.
“Enough.”
Clone-2 hesitated, then gave a small nod as well.
“I’m scared,” she admitted quietly.
“But I can listen.”
That was enough.
I exhaled softly.
“Okay,” I said.
“Good.”
I moved closer until I was standing directly in front of them, making sure they could see my face clearly.
“I need to talk to both of you,” I continued, my voice steady but serious.
“About something important.”
Their attention sharpened.
“About what happened,” I said, “that night.”
The wind brushed past us, carrying the weight of the words with it.
“This isn’t something we can ignore,” I added.
“And it’s not something I can explain twice.”
I met their eyes — one, then the other.
“So listen carefully,” I said quietly.
“Both of you.”
Because whatever I was about to say…
…would change how all three of us moved forward from here.
I took a slow breath.
This was the part I hadn’t wanted to say out loud.
“That night…” I began, my voice low, steady, “someone broke into the house.”
Both of them stiffened.
“It wasn’t random,” I continued.
“It wasn’t an accident.”
The wind moved past us, cold and quiet.
“People entered,” I said carefully.
“They took control of the house.”
Clone-1’s fingers tightened in her lap.
Clone-2’s breathing quickened, just slightly.
“They didn’t leave anyone behind,” I said.
“Everyone who was there… was taken away.”
I paused.
Not because I didn’t know what to say —
“I believe,” I continued slowly, “that none of us survived that night.”
Silence crashed down between us.
The city below continued to breathe, unaware.
“I don’t remember the end,” I admitted.
“The last thing I felt was fear… and then nothing.”
I lifted my gaze to meet theirs.
“And after that,” I said quietly, “I woke up here.”
On the rooftop.
At the same moment everything started.
I clenched my hands without realizing it.
“That’s why this matters,” I said.
“Because whatever this power is…”
I gestured between us.
“…it didn’t stop what happened.”
It only refused to let me stay dead.
The numbers above our heads glowed faintly in the dark — 0, 1, 2 — silent proof of a truth none of us wanted to accept.
“That night,” I finished softly,
“was the moment everything ended.”
“And the moment everything started again.”
I stepped closer to them.
Not as the origin.
Not as the one with the answers.
Just as myself.
“I’m afraid too,” I said quietly.
The words settled between us — simple, unguarded.
Clone-1 looked down for a moment, then back up.
Clone-2’s shoulders eased slightly, like she’d been holding something too tight.
“I don’t understand everything,” I continued.
“I don’t know why this power chose me.
And I don’t know how many times the world will repeat this moment.”
I swallowed.
“But I feel the same fear you do.”
I reached out, placing one hand on each of their shoulders — grounding, real.
“That’s why we can’t face this alone,” I said.
“And we can’t panic.”
They listened.
“We think,” I continued slowly, deliberately, “not as copies…”
“…but as people.”
“As us.”
The wind brushed past us again, carrying the city’s distant noise upward.
“If there’s a way to save everyone,” I said, my voice steadier now, “we’ll find it together.”
Clone-2’s voice trembled.
“And if there isn’t?”
I met her gaze.
“Then we make one.”
Silence followed — not empty, but full.
Three hearts.
One resolve.
Fear still existed.
But it no longer stood alone.
Something changed.
I looked down.
My hand was glowing.
Not blinding light — just a steady, unfamiliar radiance tracing along my fingers, pulsing softly in time with my heartbeat.
Clone-1 gasped quietly.
Her hand was glowing too.
Clone-2 lifted her own slowly, eyes wide as she stared at the same light blooming across her skin.
The power wasn’t choosing.
It was linking.
“What is this…?” Clone-2 whispered.
I didn’t answer.
I stepped forward instinctively, drawn by something I couldn’t yet name.
My glowing hand reached out — and without hesitation, Clone-1 did the same.
The moment our palms touched—
The light flared.
Not outward.
Inward.
The air folded in on itself.
A sharp pressure surged through my chest as both of them froze, eyes widening in shock.
Then—
They vanished.
No sound.
No resistance.
No pain.
One second they were there.
The next, the space beside me was empty.
The light collapsed suddenly, rushing back into my hand with overwhelming force.
I staggered, breath catching—
And felt something solid settle into my grip.
I looked down.
A weapon rested in my hand.
Not anything human.
Its surface was smooth and dark, etched with faint, shifting patterns that moved like living circuits.
The shape was unfamiliar — sleek, precise — humming softly with contained energy.
An alien gun.
I tightened my fingers around it instinctively, and the weapon responded — a low vibration passing through my palm, as if recognizing me.
My heart pounded.
“They’re gone…” I whispered.
But deep inside, I knew the truth.
They weren’t erased.
They had been stored.
Converted.
The power hadn’t destroyed them.
It had condensed them into something else.
A cost.
A trade.
And now, standing alone on the rooftop once more, with the weight of an impossible weapon in my hand, I understood something terrifying:
This power doesn’t give without taking.
And the next time it activates—
I don’t know what it will ask for.
thank you so much for reading Beyond Space and Time – I Was Not Allowed to End.
It truly means a lot to me that you gave my story a chance.