The Wright of choice

Kael

I woke up in darkness, my mind still echoing with the words of the oracle. I was in a place that felt empty, like time and space had completely warped around me. The images of the past and future overlapped, forming a chaotic tapestry, yet one undeniably connected to my journey—and to Lena's.

I knew what I had to do, but I didn’t know how. The sacrifice. The loss of a version of Lena, a choice unimaginable for anyone who loved as intensely as I loved her. But the oracle's words still rang in my ears. "True freedom comes from sacrifice."

As I walked through this landscape of memories and fragments of time, I tried to understand what it all meant. Every vision that appeared before me was a recreation of a past life, a reflection of who Lena and I had been in other dimensions, other moments. Some versions of us were together, others were separated, sometimes I was by her side, sometimes she was lost forever, or I was sacrificing myself to save her.

I knew that at some point, this pain, this cycle of repetition, had to end. But how? How could I let Lena—any version of her—be lost forever? I didn’t know if I had the strength to make that choice. The only thing I knew for certain was that our life together had always been a fragile thread, always on the verge of destruction.

At first, I tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on what I could do to stop the cycle from repeating, but the truth was unavoidable. I had already been through this countless times—always fighting, always searching for a way to save Lena, but never succeeding.

The anguish grew in my chest. I wanted to scream, I wanted to change reality. But there was no way. The choice was in front of me, and I needed to understand it.

In one of the clearest visions that appeared before me, I saw a version of Lena falling into my arms, her face marked with pain. I knew that was Lena from a past life, the version I had lost before we could be fully united.

"You need to stop searching for perfection," the oracle's voice echoed again. "What you’re looking for is not what you think. True liberation comes when you let go of what you think you need to hold on to."

I looked at Lena's image, still in my arms. I felt the emotions rise to the surface. How could I let her go? How could I free myself from the pain without losing everything we had? I found myself once again in a whirlwind of contradictory feelings. On one hand, the promise of freedom; on the other, the fear of being responsible for the eternal loss of everything I loved.

I walked deeper into the visions, trying to understand what the choice truly meant. Each image was a lesson. Every past life revealed the same truth—Lena and I would always be trapped in this cycle until one of us was willing to let go of the pain. That was what I had to do: to somehow separate myself from my own need for control and the love that sustained me.

I knew that no matter how much I tried to resist, this was a battle I would have to fight alone. I just didn’t know how far I was willing to go, how much I could embrace the sacrifice without destroying everything I believed to be the only reason to continue existing: Lena.

The future seemed like a distant fog, and the weight of my choices began to feel heavier. With every step, the idea of letting go of Lena, or losing a version of her, seemed more real and closer. But that didn’t mean I had accepted it. On the contrary, I felt that, while it was necessary, I was still in conflict with the idea of sacrificing any part of my life with her.

"Kael…"

I turned as I heard the familiar whisper. Lena’s voice seemed to come from one of the visions, but I knew it wasn’t her. It was a version of her, a distorted memory from a past life. Her eyes, filled with sadness and understanding, met mine.

"You don’t have to do this alone," she said, her voice gentle yet unyielding. "The answer is not just in your hands. Don’t forget, we have always been stronger together. Even in other lives."

I felt a tightness in my chest at her words. I wanted to believe it was true. I wanted to believe there was a solution that didn’t involve so much suffering. But I knew the choices made in the past couldn’t be undone. Lena and I were destined for an unchangeable truth that could only be altered by the sacrifice of something essential.

The weight of the decision was crushing. I looked at Lena once more, even though it wasn’t the Lena I knew and loved entirely. She smiled softly at me, as if telling me that I still had time, that I could still find a way to break the cycle without causing so much pain.

But the truth was, time was running out. I needed to decide—and I knew that no matter what choice I made, the price would be steep. The question now was: was I ready to bear the consequences of that decision? Was I ready to finally break the cycle and allow the love Lena and I shared to evolve, or was I destined to remain trapped in an endless timeline of pain and loss?

When I finally closed my eyes and prepared for the inevitability of the choice, I understood something profound: true freedom, perhaps, was not in finding the answer, but in accepting the pain that came with the choice and moving forward.

The cycle was about to break. But the question that remained was: which life, which version of Lena, was I willing to sacrifice to save all the others?