Chapter 494: 494 The End Was Only The Beginning.



Her grip on the letter tightened, her knuckles turning white as if she could anchor herself to the past through Harold's words. It was a torrent of feelings she couldn't suppress any longer, a release that was both cathartic and overwhelming. The dam that had held back her pain, her confusion, and her longing finally gave way, and she cried—a cry that held the echoes of the love, the sorrow, and the connection that transcended time itself.

She could feel the weight of Harold's emotions, his regrets, and his hope, all mingling within the words he had penned. It was a connection that transcended time, a love that had survived the ages, and a promise that they would find each other once again.

Tears streamed down her face, each drop carrying the emotions Harold had poured into his words. The letter was a testament to his unwavering love, to his pain, and to his longing that spanned centuries. It was a love letter to a woman he could never forget, even across the chasm of time itself.

Gently wiping her tears, she turned her gaze to her phone. The weight of her impending decision pressed upon her, urging her to take action. With a trembling hand, she copied Hunter's number from his card and dialled it.

As soon as he answered, her voice wavered as she said, "Can... I go back?"

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, almost oppressive. Hunter's voice eventually broke through the void, asking if she remembered anything else. She shook her head instinctively, though he couldn't see her, and confirmed that she was merely curious about the potential to go back.

In response, Hunter's voice carried a tone of caution and resignation, reminding her that she was bound by the constraints of the Blood Moon and its elusive cycle. He gently conveyed that she could do nought until her third decade's Blood Moon graced the heavens.

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She sobbed quietly.

He listened quietly.

"What... what would happen? If it works. If I go back." She asked amidst her tears.

Hunter's reply echoed with uncertainty, echoing the profound mystery that shrouded her destiny. It was an endless possibility.

"I cannot say." He spoke quietly.

"Will you return to the time prior to your first meeting?"

"Would you recall the first life you had there if you returned a second time?

"Would you have memories of this world if you ventured there a second time?

"Would those you wish to meet recognize you?"

"Would you return in a different body with a different fate?"

Hunter reminded her that the forces of fate lay beyond her grasp and that destiny was a current that flowed regardless of her desires.

But one thing he was sure of was that she would be able to get her answer when she could see the mark, and just maybe, before she would decide, their souls would find each other. Who knows? Perhaps they have already met but haven't been able to recognize each other yet.

Alicia's heart clenched with a mix of hope and trepidation. She nodded to herself, even though Hunter couldn't perceive the gesture. She understood that her ultimate decision lay in wait until her thirtieth year.

Taking a deep breath, Alicia whispered, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling within, "We'll meet again," before ending the call.

Her room enveloped her in shadows, the world outside shrouded in a silence that matched the heaviness in her heart. Alicia remained seated in the dimly lit room, the gravity of her emotions still clinging to her like a shadow.

Yet amidst the weight that pressed upon her, a newfound resolve began to emerge. She was Alicia Queen, a blend of the past and the present, a unique force woven by time itself. As her tears dried and her breathing steadied, she knew that the end of this chapter marked only the beginning of her journey.

As she stood there, bathed in the soft glow of her room's light, Alicia acknowledged that the path ahead was uncertain. The letters, the diary, and the echoes of history whispered to her—a blend of love, loss, and hope that transcended the boundaries of time.

Taking one last look at the diary and the letters that now held so much significance, she felt a mixture of gratitude and anticipation. The journey that lay ahead would be challenging, but she was resolute. She was ready to embrace her destiny, to uncover the threads that connected her to a love that spanned centuries.

But she had a feeling that when that time came, She would seek him out first. She would return to him. She would remember all of it. And she was going to create that Utopia for Harold. With everyone he loved in it.

With a determined exhalation, Alicia rose, her eyes alight with a renewed sense of purpose. She understood that while the past was written, the future was a blank canvas, waiting for her to leave her mark upon it. The ache in her heart mingled with a spark of determination, a recognition that the story wasn't over yet—it was only the prologue to an unwritten adventure.

The end was only the beginning.

AND THE CURTAINS DREW CLOSE.

*****

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That book will be focused on exactly what a perfect state is. Utopia vs. Dystopia, which is led by both main leads,

Is it possible to have a completely perfect state?

Or imperfect state?

What makes a state perfect or imperfect?

Or... states must have a blend of the two?

In that case, one must submit to the other.

Would it be the rebellious Omega Bandit leader?

Or the Alpha of the Panthera Clan?

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