The Compass would not stop spinning.
Its beam of light circled wildly inside the crystal casing before finally settling upon the young traveler standing only a few feet away.
Mason looked from the compass...
To Finn...
Then back again.
"That isn't supposed to happen, is it?"
Finn smiled.
"No."
He adjusted the worn leather satchel resting across his shoulder.
"It isn't."
The young traveler looked no older than Mason.
His dark brown hair fell carelessly across his forehead, stirred gently by a breeze that seemed to exist only around him. His boots were dusty from countless roads, and his gray cloak showed signs of years of travel.
There was nothing remarkable about him.
No glowing armor.
No magical weapon.
No crown.
No symbols of power.
Yet the bridge itself seemed...
Happy.
The white stone beneath Finn's feet glowed a little brighter.
The silver mist parted around him.
Even the distant lighthouse shone more warmly.
Mason frowned.
"Who are you?"
Finn laughed.
"I was hoping we'd start with something easier."
The Bridge of Echoes stretched endlessly in every direction.
Behind Mason...
The doorway leading back to the Endless Library had disappeared completely.
Only endless white stone remained.
Ahead...
The lighthouse still stood impossibly far away.
It looked no closer than before.
The Compass continued pointing toward Finn instead of the distant tower.
Mason sighed.
"I have a feeling this journey isn't going to make much sense."
Finn grinned.
"It will."
A pause.
"Eventually."
Back inside the Endless Library...
Genesis paced nervously beneath the Great White Tree.
The young Dream looked toward the place where the doorway had once stood.
"They're gone."
The Storykeeper nodded.
"The Path has accepted him."
Genesis folded both arms.
"I don't like not knowing."
The Listener smiled gently.
"You've always preferred imagining the future."
Genesis looked down.
"I can't imagine this one."
Silence filled the Library.
Neither could anyone else.
Atlas leaned against one of the great roots of the White Tree.
"He'll be fine."
Commander Theron looked toward him.
"You sound confident."
Atlas smiled.
"I'm lying."
Everyone laughed.
Even the First Void released a low rumble that sounded suspiciously like amusement.
Atlas shrugged.
"What?"
"If I don't laugh..."
He looked toward the empty doorway.
"...I'll worry."
Far beyond Creation...
The lighthouse keeper climbed the spiral staircase winding around the inside of the ancient tower.
Every step echoed softly against smooth white stone polished by countless ages.
At the very top...
A single room waited.
Unlike the rest of the tower...
The room contained almost nothing.
One chair.
One wooden desk.
One enormous window overlooking the endless sea of mist.
Resting upon the desk...
Lay another compass.
Unlike Mason's...
This one no longer glowed.
The keeper gently picked it up.
"It woke."
A familiar voice answered behind him.
"It always does."
The keeper smiled.
"I wondered when you'd arrive."
The Traveler stepped into the room.
"So did I."
"You've been watching him."
"I have."
"What do you think?"
The Traveler looked out the enormous window toward the distant bridge.
Mason and Finn appeared no larger than two tiny figures.
"I think..."
A smile slowly crossed his face.
"...he finally found the guide he didn't know he needed."
Back on the Bridge...
Mason and Finn walked side by side.
Hours seemed to pass.
Or perhaps only minutes.
Time behaved strangely there.
Sometimes the lighthouse appeared closer.
Sometimes farther away.
The silver rivers flowing beneath the bridge occasionally became skies filled with stars before changing back into water.
Nothing remained constant.
Except Finn.
He walked calmly as though he had traveled the bridge his entire life.
"You've been here before."
Finn nodded.
"Many times."
"How many?"
"I stopped counting."
Mason blinked.
"You stopped counting?"
Finn smiled.
"The Path doesn't measure journeys."
"What does it measure?"
"The traveler."
Mason thought about that for a while.
"So..."
He looked toward Finn.
"You're a Guardian?"
"No."
"An Architect?"
"No."
"A Watcher?"
Finn laughed.
"No."
"The Listener?"
"No."
"The Traveler?"
"No."
Mason stopped walking.
"Then who are you?"
Finn smiled warmly.
"I'm..."
He looked toward the distant lighthouse.
"...a friend."
Mason groaned.
"Everyone around here answers questions like riddles."
Finn laughed louder.
"I've noticed."
The bridge suddenly trembled.
Not violently.
Gently.
The silver mist surrounding them parted.
To Mason's surprise...
Another bridge appeared beside their own.
Then another.
Then dozens more.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Each stretched toward a different horizon.
Some glowed with golden light.
Others shimmered silver.
A few disappeared into darkness.
Mason stared in amazement.
"What are those?"
Finn looked around happily.
"The Other Journeys."
"What?"
"Every choice."
Silence.
"Every path someone almost took."
Mason slowly looked from one bridge to another.
"You mean..."
Finn nodded.
"There are worlds where you never became the Guardian."
Another bridge appeared.
"There are worlds where Atlas never survived."
Another.
"There are worlds where Genesis was never found."
Mason swallowed.
"There are that many?"
Finn smiled.
"There are more."
Suddenly...
One bridge drifted unusually close.
Mason looked toward it.
His breath caught.
He saw himself.
Not as the Guardian.
As an ordinary man.
Working at a cabinet factory.
Laughing with friends during lunch.
Driving home beneath an Indiana sunset.
Living a simple life.
No monsters.
No wars.
No cosmic battles.
Just...
Peace.
Mason couldn't look away.
Finn quietly stopped walking.
"You miss it."
Mason hesitated.
"Sometimes."
The ordinary Mason on the neighboring bridge smiled as he walked into his home.
Someone greeted him at the door.
Children ran into his arms.
Laughter echoed through the evening.
The vision slowly faded into the mist.
"You could have had that life."
Finn spoke gently.
"I know."
"Do you regret your choice?"
Mason stood silently for a long time.
Finally...
He smiled.
"No."
Another pause.
"I miss it."
His eyes remained fixed upon the place where the other bridge had disappeared.
"But I don't regret it."
Finn's smile widened.
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because..."
Finn looked toward the countless bridges surrounding them.
"...the Horizon only welcomes those who choose their own story."
Far behind them...
The bridge suddenly began disappearing.
Stone dissolved into silver light.
Not collapsing.
Simply fading away.
Mason turned quickly.
"Our bridge!"
Finn didn't even look back.
"It always disappears."
"What?"
"So no traveler can spend forever looking behind them."
Silence.
"The only way forward..."
Finn continued walking.
"...is forward."
The Compass pulsed again.
This time...
It no longer pointed toward Finn.
It pointed somewhere neither of them expected.
Straight upward.
Mason slowly looked toward the strange sky.
A gigantic book floated among the stars.
Its pages stretched across the heavens themselves.
One page slowly turned.
Then another.
Golden words appeared across the endless paper.
Finn stopped walking.
His cheerful smile vanished.
"No..."
Mason looked toward him.
"What?"
Finn whispered only three words.
"He's watching us."
The writing across the enormous celestial page continued growing.
Not in golden ink.
In brilliant white light.
A sentence slowly formed high above the bridge.
The journey has begun exactly as expected.
Mason's heart sank.
"Who wrote that?"
Finn stared at the impossible book with an expression Mason had never seen before.
Fear.
Real fear.
Then Finn quietly answered.
"The one who waits..."
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"...at the Last Horizon."
The lighthouse in the distance suddenly went dark.
The silver mist swallowed the bridge.
And for the very first time since stepping onto the Path...
Mason could no longer see where he was going.