Another Life, Another World, Another Ending

Friday night.

Daniel stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, heart pounding. He didn't want to fall asleep.

Ever since Monday, the dream had haunted him—not just in memory, but in the feeling it left behind. The sense of loss. The echo of a child's voice calling him "Dad." The warmth of a life he couldn't explain, ripped away by fire and destruction.

It had taken days for the weight of it to fade, but now, the weekend was here.

And something deep in his bones told him that it was going to happen again.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stay awake, but exhaustion pulled at him. Sleep was inevitable.

And so was the dream.

*****

Daniel opened his eyes.

He wasn't in his bedroom anymore.

Sunlight streamed through the window of a house he didn't recognize. The scent of coffee and something sweet, pancakes? filled the air. The distant sound of laughter echoed from another room.

His breath caught in his throat.

This wasn't real.

But it felt real.

The bed he lay in was familiar, the creases in the sheets, the slight dip in the mattress, as if he had slept in it a hundred times before. He sat up slowly, heart hammering.

The walls were lined with framed pictures. His pulse spiked as he turned to look at them.

A woman smiled back at him. She had dark, laughing eyes and a warm expression. Beside her, Daniel himself, older, maybe in his late twenties, stood with an arm around her shoulders. In the next frame, the same woman held a little girl in her arms.

His daughter.

Daniel staggered out of bed. The floor was solid beneath his feet. His breath came in uneven gasps.

No. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

Then a voice called from downstairs.

"Daniel! Breakfast is ready!"

The woman from the pictures. His wife.

His stomach twisted. This was just like before. He had lived in that burning city before it collapsed into fire. And now, now he was here, in another life, another reality, and if the pattern held…

It would all come crashing down.

But the day passed like nothing was wrong.

He ate breakfast with them. His wife, her name is Sophia, his mind supplied effortlessly, kissed his cheek and teased him about sleeping in. His daughter, Lily, tugged at his sleeve, excitedly showing him a drawing she had made.

And Daniel knew them. Somehow, impossibly, he knew the details of their lives. The way Sophia's nose crinkled when she laughed. The way Lily clung to his leg when she was shy.

Memories that didn't belong to him flooded his mind.

A first date at a ramen shop. A road trip where they got lost in the mountains. The night he proposed under a string of cheap, flickering lights.

This wasn't just a dream. It was a life.

And he loved them.

Which meant…

It was only a matter of time before he lost them.

That night, Daniel didn't sleep.

He sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock. He had lived through an entire day, but time in this world felt strange, stretched.

Last time, in the burning city, the world had lasted years before collapsing. He had grown old there.

Would this life be the same?

Would he have ten years before it all ended again?

Or would it happen sooner?

A quiet shuffle of feet made him turn. Lily stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

"Daddy?" she murmured sleepily.

His chest clenched at the word.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

She walked over and climbed into his lap, her small arms wrapping around his neck.

"Had a bad dream," she whispered. "Can I stay with you?"

Daniel swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Of course."

As he held her close, feeling the slow rise and fall of her breath, dread curled in his stomach like a coiled serpent.

Because he knew, deep down—that this would end.

He just didn't know when.