Chapter 215: The question

Adrian stood in the middle of the street, staring at his dead phone.

Eira was not the one who asked whether you should exist.

She was the one who answered.

He read the messages again.

Then a third message appeared.

You have mistaken the first answer for the first question.

Adrian slowly lowered the phone.

"Right."

A motorbike passed close enough to make him step back onto the pavement.

The rider shouted something at him.

Adrian apologized automatically.

Then he stood there for another few seconds, wondering how a conversation about the origin of existence had somehow become even more complicated.

He put his phone away.

Whatever was happening, he wasn’t going to solve it by standing in the middle of the road.

He had people waiting for him.

For now, that mattered more.

When Adrian reached Lena’s apartment, the door was open.

He heard Noah complaining from inside.

"I’m telling you, that’s not how you do it."

A small voice answered, "Then you do it."

"I don’t have to prove anything."

"Because you can’t."

Adrian smiled and entered.

Noah was sitting on the floor with Lena’s son. Between them lay a pile of wooden pieces, glue, string, and what looked suspiciously like the remains of a second toy.

Lena stood in the kitchen.

Eva was nowhere to be seen.

Adrian looked at the mess.

"What happened?"

Noah pointed at the boy.

"He wanted to build something."

The boy pointed at Noah.

"He said he knew how."

"I said I could help."

"You said you knew how."

"Those are different statements."

Adrian laughed.

The boy immediately stood.

"Adrian! Look!"

He held up a wooden figure.

It had two arms of different lengths, one leg slightly crooked, and a head that looked more like a potato than a human being.

Adrian examined it seriously.

"What is it?"

The boy’s face fell.

"It’s a person."

"Ah."

Adrian nodded.

"I can see that now."

Noah burst out laughing.

The boy threw a piece of wood at him.

Adrian crouched beside the construction.

"What’s its name?"

The boy hesitated.

"I haven’t decided."

"Good."

"Why?"

"Because you don’t have to decide everything before you start."

The boy considered that.

Then he picked up a pencil and drew a tiny mark on the figure’s chest.

"There."

"What does that mean?" Adrian asked.

"It’s his name."

Adrian examined the mark.

It looked like a crooked circle with a line through it.

"You named him after a drawing?"

"No. I made the drawing because I named him."

Adrian stared at him.

Noah slowly turned.

"That sounded suspiciously philosophical."

"He’s seven," Lena said from the kitchen. "Try to keep up."

Adrian smiled.

For a moment, everything felt normal.

Then he remembered the message.

He looked at Lena.

"Have you seen Eva?"

"She left."

"When?"

"About twenty minutes ago."

"Did she say where she was going?"

Lena shook her head.

"She said she needed to speak to someone."

"Who?"

"I don’t know."

Adrian glanced at the window.

"Did she seem worried?"

Lena thought about it.

"Yes."

That was enough to erase his smile.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened. She just looked at the sky for a while, then left."

Adrian sat down.

Lena watched him.

"What’s wrong?"

He took out his phone.

The screen was working again.

He showed her the messages.

She read them twice.

Then she placed the phone on the table.

"Who sent them?"

"I don’t know."

"Can you reply?"

Adrian tried.

He typed a single question.

Who are you?

The message failed to send.

He tried again.

Nothing.

Lena leaned against the table.

"You think Eira knows?"

"I don’t know."

"You should ask her."

Adrian looked at her.

"That’s assuming I can find her."

Lena smiled faintly.

"You found me."

"That was different."

"How?"

Adrian thought about it.

He couldn’t explain.

Finding Lena had never been about tracking her across worlds.

It had been about remembering that she existed independently of him.

That she could choose to leave.

That she could choose to return.

And that he didn’t have to know where she was every second to care about her.

"I suppose it wasn’t different," he admitted.

Lena smiled.

"Exactly."

Adrian stood.

"I need to find Eva."

Lena nodded.

"Then go."

He hesitated.

"You’re not going to tell me to be careful?"

"I could."

"But?"

"But you would go anyway."

Adrian smiled.

"Probably."

She walked over and straightened his collar.

"Then come back when you’re done."

He looked at her.

"I will."

This time, he didn’t make a grand promise.

He didn’t swear that nothing would happen.

He simply meant to return.

And that was enough to make him leave.

---

Adrian found Eva at the park.

She sat on the same bench where he had met Eira, holding a paper cup of coffee.

The fountain was working.

Children played nearby.

The world looked ordinary.

Eva looked up as Adrian approached.

"You’re late."

"Apparently that’s a family trait."

She smiled.

Then she noticed his expression.

"You received a message."

Adrian sat beside her.

"How did you know?"

"Because you’ve been staring at your phone for the last three minutes."

He looked down.

The screen was dark.

"Fair."

He handed it to her.

Eva read the messages.

Her expression changed.

Not surprise.

Recognition.

Adrian noticed.

"You know something."

Eva returned the phone.

"Yes."

"Tell me."

She looked toward the fountain.

"I can’t tell you who sent those messages."

"Why?"

"Because I don’t know."

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

"You seem to spend a lot of time not knowing things."

"I spend a lot of time dealing with things that existed before knowledge."

"That sounds like a fancy way of saying you don’t know."

"It is."

Adrian laughed despite himself.

Eva took a sip of coffee.

"But I know what the messages mean."

Adrian waited.

"The question came first."

"What question?"

"Whether anything should exist."

Adrian frowned.

"I thought that was Eira’s question."

"No. Eira answered it."

"And I answered the question of who wanted to exist."

"Yes."

"Then what’s the difference?"

Eva looked directly at him.

"One question asks whether existence should happen. The other asks who is willing to participate in it."

Adrian went quiet.

Eva continued.

"Eira was the first answer to the first question. You were the first answer to the second."

Adrian leaned back.

"So there were two first answers."

"There can be more than one beginning, Adrian."

He looked at her.

"You’re saying existence began before I chose to exist."

"Something preceded your choice. Whether you want to call it existence, possibility, or something else doesn’t change that."

"Then what did my answer actually do?"

Eva considered her words.

"It made your own existence an affirmation rather than an accident."

Adrian looked down at his hands.

He remembered the first question.

Who wants to exist?

And his answer.

I do.

For so long, he had believed that answer had made him responsible for everything that followed.

Now he wondered whether he had misunderstood its meaning.

Perhaps he hadn’t declared that everything must exist.

Perhaps he had simply said that he wanted to.

A personal answer.

A choice.

Not a command.

"Then why does this new voice think I shouldn’t exist?"

Eva’s expression grew serious.

"Because someone believes your answer was never yours to give."

Adrian stared.

"What?"

"They believe you were supposed to remain silent."

"And let existence happen without me?"

"Perhaps."

"That makes no sense."

"It might make perfect sense to them."

Adrian stood and began pacing.

"So someone asked a question, I answered it, and now they’re angry because I answered?"

"Not exactly."

Eva watched him.

"They believe the question itself was never meant to be answered."

Adrian stopped.

"Then why ask it?"

"That is what we need to find out."

For the first time, Eva sounded uncertain.

Adrian looked at the fountain.

The water fell in an endless loop.

Up.

Down.

Up again.

He had spent so long looking for the first cause that he had never considered whether the first cause might itself have been uncertain.

Maybe the beginning hadn’t been a perfect plan.

Maybe it had been a question nobody knew how to answer.

Maybe existence had begun because someone finally decided to try.

Adrian turned back.

"Where do we start?"

Eva stood.

"With Eira."

---

They found her at the edge of the city. 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

She stood on a hill overlooking the buildings.

The evening light stretched across the streets.

For a moment, Adrian simply watched her.

She looked peaceful.

Almost ordinary.

When she noticed them, she didn’t seem surprised.

"You came."

Adrian stopped beside her.

"Someone sent me a message."

Eira looked at Eva.

"Did you tell him?"

"No," Eva answered.

Eira nodded.

"Good."

Adrian frowned.

"Can everyone stop saying good when I have no idea what’s happening?"

Eira almost smiled.

Then she looked toward the city.

"You were told I answered the first question."

"Yes."

"That’s true."

"And the voice said you weren’t the one who asked it."

"That’s also true."

Adrian waited.

Eira took a breath.

"I didn’t answer because I wanted to exist."

He looked at her.

"Then why?"

"Because I thought someone had to."

The words were quiet.

Adrian stared at her.

Eira continued.

"I was the first possibility. I could have become anything. I could have remained nothing. I could have waited forever."

She looked at him.

"Then I heard the question."

"Should anything exist?"

She nodded.

"And I answered."

"Why?"

"Because I thought silence would mean that nothing ever changed."

Adrian understood.

She hadn’t chosen herself.

She had answered on behalf of everything that might come after her.

She had believed that without her answer, nothing else would have a chance.

"And now you regret it," he said.

Eira shook her head.

"No."

She looked toward the city.

"I regret believing that my answer had to decide everything."

Adrian went silent.

For the first time, he understood her.

She had made the same mistake he had.

She had mistaken the first choice for responsibility over every choice that followed.

She had believed that because she answered first, she had to carry the consequences of everything that came after.

Adrian spoke carefully.

"You don’t have to do that anymore."

Eira looked at him.

"Neither do you."

He smiled faintly.

"Fair."

For a while, they watched the city together.

Then Eira spoke again.

"There’s something else."

Adrian sighed.

"Of course there is."

She ignored him.

"The voice that sent you those messages isn’t trying to erase you."

Adrian turned.

"Then what does it want?"

Eira looked at him.

"It wants you to answer the question again."

Adrian’s expression hardened.

"Which question?"

She looked toward the sky.

The first stars were appearing.

"Whether you still want to exist."

Adrian didn’t answer immediately.

He thought about Michael.

Lena.

His mother.

His brother.

Noah.

The boy with the wooden toy.

All the people he had met.

All the people he had lost.

He thought about the pain.

The mistakes.

The choices he regretted.

The things he couldn’t repair.

Then he thought about the small things.

Breakfast.

Laughter.

A broken toy being repaired.

A friend returning home.

A person choosing to leave.

A person choosing to stay.

He looked at Eira.

"Yes."

She watched him closely.

"Even if everything you love can be lost?"

"Yes."

"Even if you cannot save everyone?"

"Yes."

"Even if you have to live with choices you regret?"

Adrian smiled.

"Especially then."

The wind moved through the grass.

Eira lowered her eyes.

For a moment, she looked relieved.

Then the sky went dark.

Not because night had fallen.

Every star disappeared at once.

Eva stepped back.

Eira’s face went pale.

Adrian looked upward.

A single line appeared across the sky.

Then another.

Then hundreds.

The sky wasn’t cracking.

It was being erased.

A voice spoke.

"You have answered again."

Adrian stood still.

The voice continued.

"But you have not answered me."

The darkness deepened.

Eva whispered something Adrian couldn’t hear.

Eira stepped toward him.

"Don’t answer the next question."

Adrian looked at her.

"Why?"

"Because it won’t ask whether you want to exist."

The sky opened.

Something looked down at them.

There was no eye.

No face.

No body.

Only an absence so complete that Adrian couldn’t even tell where it began.

Then the voice asked:

"WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE?"

Adrian stared into the darkness.

For the first time, he understood why Eira was afraid.

Because he had no answer.

And somewhere beyond the sky, something was waiting to hear one.