AT THE SAME TIME
MICHAELS' POINT OF VIEW:
I felt the weight of the room pressing down on me — shelves stacked high with our memories, faces staring back like ghosts. Then she stepped out from the shadows, that woman, The Archivist. Her voice was calm but sharp, slicing through the silence.
"Before you can finish this." She said, eyes locking onto mine. "You must face what you've left behind. Each folder holds a memory you sacrificed. Retrieve them all. Relive your past. Only then will the path forward open."
My heart hammered. It was no longer just about winning or escaping. This was personal. A reckoning. I glanced at the others, their faces pale, tense. But we had no choice. We'd come too far to back down now.
"Fine." I said, voice steady but low. "Tell us where to start."
She gave a faint smile, almost sad.
"Each of you must enter alone. Confront your memories, your regrets. Only then will you earn your way through."She said.
