It was over. Just like that. Wendy had somehow persuaded Mary, and the nightmare had come to an end.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick...tick...tick.
The ticking of the Memento Mori was slowing down. Relief washed over me. Thank goodness—it was finally over.
But as the realization set in, I became aware of a much larger problem.
"...The people..."
A massacre. Blood was everywhere. Bodies lay strewn across the street. Some people were weeping, others stood in shock. Despair hung thick in the air. Helicopters and military vehicles were approaching—U.S. military by the looks of it. But there was something odd. I saw the logo on one of the vehicles: BPI. BPI? Never heard of them. What organization is that? Ugh. Forget it. This world is already so twisted, nothing surprises me anymore.
But before I could focus on the approaching military, something far stranger happened.
A screen appeared in front of me. Not just any screen—the screen, the one Memento Mori had shown me when I was dead. But this time, something was different.
[Making new checkpoint. Saving...! # ! $! ! #! #! -]
"What the hell?" I muttered, my confusion growing by the second.
Beep-!
※ Error Error Error Error Error
Error Error Error Error Error Error Error
Error Error Error Error Error ※ ※
[Error Code: Reality Error, File name: Mary Robinson: 4444-4444]
[Unable to process May Rbinson File!]
[There might be a malfunction due to an error in reality. This error might cause diversion of personalities and explosion of intestines.]
[The system is fixing the error.]
[Loading...]
"What…what is this?!"
I stared in disbelief. I had never seen this kind of error before. A reality error? What did that even mean? Memento Mori was already beyond my comprehension, but this? It was terrifying. What could this thing do?
The holographic screen displayed a loading bar, and as it slowly progressed, the world around me began to change.
The helicopters and BPI vans started moving in reverse, retreating backward through the streets. People who had been running away were now moonwalking back to the station, to the shops, to their cars. The sun—the sun—reversed its course, turning the sky from twilight back into bright blue daylight.
The dead bodies. They were rising. Blood flowed from the puddles on the street back into their veins. As soon as they regained their color, they too walked backward, joining the living in their strange rewind.
The entire scene played out like an old VHS tape on rewind. The sounds of time itself seemed to reverse. It was disorienting, surreal.
"It's going backwards," I whispered, still stunned by what I was witnessing.
I checked the screen again. The loading bar was almost full. Then I glanced at the Memento Mori—it was indeed rewinding time. Slowly, but surely. The hands of the clock were turning backward, as if the laws of nature themselves had been hijacked.
It was like something out of that wizard hero movie I'd seen back in my original world. Time was reversing, the world going backward before my very eyes. I'd seen things like this before—but not while I was alive.
[Loading complete. A minor Reality fix is done.]
[Causality rising...]
[34.2%]
-tick!
[35.2%]
-tick!
[36.2%]
-tick! I stepped aside as people rushed past me, moving backward through their lives, the chaos unraveling before my eyes. My gaze shifted to the screen. The causality rate was rising again—just like it had when the time paradox was resolved. And, soon enough, people resumed their normal routines, as if nothing had ever happened.
"When's the bus coming?"
"Hon, why don't we eat out today?"
Families laughed, shoppers moved in and out of stores, kids played in the streets, and buses came and went. A few people glanced at me, standing there, stunned, but I couldn't help it. Memento Mori's powers were beyond terrifying. They were… reality-bending.
I checked my phone. All the cruel rumors we had posted about Mary? Gone. Her call records? Gone. Every single trace of Mary—the anomaly—had vanished. It seemed that Memento Mori couldn't "save" in a timeline that had been destabilized by a reality-warping anomaly. Instead of rewinding time entirely, it simply… reloaded the world's last stable state. Without Mary.
Feeling slightly calmer, I tried calling Wendy. No answer. I wasn't surprised—she'd just had a heavy conversation with Mary in that staff room. I called Tambry instead. After a few rings, she picked up.
"[...What?]"
"…What? That's how you greet me after everything?"
"[I don't even know why you called me. I barely know you.]"
She sounded annoyed. Wait—what? I froze. Of course. The reality fix hadn't just affected random people—it must've altered everyone's memories. Tambry didn't even remember why I would be calling her.
"...Just answer this. You're not in Portland, are you?"
"[Why on earth would I be in Portland?]"
Of course. I hung up, feeling a sense of unease growing. Everything had changed—too much. I needed to get my thoughts in order.
I found a quiet coffee shop in the city, something you rarely get to enjoy living in Gravity Falls. They might have one in the mall back home, but I hardly ever go there. After sitting down with a cup of tea, I started piecing things together.
First, this reality shift. Maybe this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Wendy had mentioned once that she remembered using coins that didn't exist anymore. And I'd heard stories of people recalling things that never happened. Could all of that be the result of more reality-warping incidents like this?
If that were true, it was terrifying. Someone else could be warping reality, just like Memento Mori had. But how? Ford had said that this artifact was an extra-dimensional object that tampered with time. I doubted there was another Memento Mori floating around…
Unless…
This world. The one I'm breathing in right now. It's different from the *first* Gravity Falls world I remember. Back then, everything had been relatively normal—no giant monsters, no catastrophic events—until Weirdmageddon. But now? Bill Cipher was a cosmic-level threat, and city-wide disasters seemed to be happening more frequently.
Bill. The Axolotl warned me that Bill was getting stronger with each reset, gaining more knowledge with every loop. But how many times had this universe repeated itself since I first died during Weirdmageddon? How much had *everything* changed?
The plot. The characters. Even the very history of this world.
"..."
It was terrifying to think about. What if things had changed elsewhere? What if there were more anomalies, more shifts that I hadn't even noticed yet?
The BPI. I had never heard of that group before. Were they a government agency? And the Society of the Blind Eye. They were more dangerous than I had ever imagined. They had an entire institution using kids for their experiments—whatever sick purposes they had in mind. All I knew was that Gideon's father was involved with them, but there had to be more.
But for now, I had to figure out what was happening in this world on a larger scale. I needed to investigate every strange detail, every inconsistency. Anything that didn't fit with the world I remembered. That was my best lead for now.
As I was deep in thought, my phone rang. It was Mr. Pines.
"Hello?"
"[Where on earth are you, kid?! You're supposed to be at work!]"
"What do you mean? I already… Oh."
Right.* Time had rewound, which meant I hadn't gone to work yet.
"…Sorry, Mr. Pines. I'll be back soon."
"[Where are you, anyway?]"
"In Portland."
"[Portland?! Why? And where's Wendy?]"
"...Wendy's not there?"
"[Yeah! You and Wendy just disappeared! Damn it, is it this town again? What the heck is going on this time? Never mind! But I'm not paying you for today!]"
He hung up before I could respond. Wendy must have been registered with me in Memento Mori's system, which probably protected her from the reality shift. But she needed time. I could give her that.
And for now, I needed some rest too.
In the dimly lit chamber, nearly one hundred figures stood in perfect rows, each draped in crimson robes that hid their identities. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, and a massive, all-seeing eye symbol was etched into the stone floor beneath them. Their faces were shrouded in deep shadows from their hoods, with only the occasional flicker of candlelight revealing hints of skin or glinting eyes.
At the center of the gathering, one figure stood apart—his robes slightly more ornate, adorned with intricate gold patterns. He raised his hand, and the murmurs in the chamber died instantly, replaced by an expectant silence.
"The boy," he began, his voice echoing through the vaulted chamber, "has been found."
A ripple of tension ran through the crowd. A few whispers could be heard from those in the back, but no one dared to speak louder than a breath. The figure continued.
"He was spotted in Portland, as many of you have already heard. The reasons for his presence there are unknown, but one thing is clear: the signal of the BPI—the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation—was detected nearby."
This revelation caused a louder stir, the sound of worried muttering filling the chamber. Some members shifted uneasily, their hidden faces turning toward one another beneath their hoods.
"What could he want with them?" someone muttered from the back.
"Is he making alliances?" whispered another, their voice edged with fear.
"Or maybe... he's learning too much," someone added, and the tension in the room seemed to thicken.
The standing figure raised his hand once more, and silence fell again like a heavy curtain. His voice was cold and commanding.
"It does not matter what he seeks from the BPI. What matters is that the boy is becoming... difficult. He is straying from our designs. We cannot allow that."
He paused, letting his words settle before continuing.
"The Leader has given the order. The boy must be controlled. And since his personal movements are... difficult to predict, we shall shift our focus to his family."
A murmur of agreement swept through the group. Some nodded, others clenched their fists in anticipation.
"He must be reminded," the figure said, his voice growing sharper, "of the boundaries in which he exists. To achieve this, we will apply pressure where he least expects it. His family will be our next target."
Another ripple of whispers moved through the room, but now the atmosphere was one of dark resolve.
"And finally, regarding the Rapture," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone, "the Leader has signaled that it may proceed sooner than anticipated. The time draws near. The morning star of the night...will be born soon."
At this, a quiet sense of awe spread through the chamber. The Rapture had been whispered about for years, a moment of cosmic significance when everything would change. And now, they were closer to it than ever before.
The standing figure lowered his head slightly, then raised both hands in a gesture of unity.
"For the Open-Eyed One," he declared, his voice reverberating through the chamber like a drumbeat.
The entire assembly responded in unison, their voices ringing out in Latin:
"Pro Illum Oculatum."*
A chorus of robed figures echoed the words in perfect harmony, their chant growing louder and more fervent, as if they were calling upon some ancient force, some unseen power beyond the walls of their secret sanctum.
"Pro Illum Oculatum."*
"Pro Illum Oculatum."*
The chant continued, building in intensity as the candles flickered and the room seemed to pulse with energy.
And somewhere, far away from the building...
"..."
A figure awakened...from the deepest slumber. But it's eye closed again.
It was yet the time.