Ima

The Ima had not been a civilization. They had been a scaffold . Every conscious species that had ever evolved in the universe had passed through the Ima at some point—not as a stage of development, but as a species of caretaker. The Ima's job was to hold the universe's memory while each new species learned to walk. Once the species was stable, the Ima would withdraw, leaving behind only faint traces: myths of fairies, legends of ancestors, the persistent human feeling that someone had been here before us.

In the center of the group stood a woman. She had Elara's face. The Ima had not been a civilization

And she remembered the Burning. The Ima had not been destroyed by war or famine or natural disaster. They had been voluntarily forgotten . In 1912—the photograph's date was accurate—the last twelve Ima had gathered in the twisting tower and performed a ritual that erased their civilization from every record, every memory, every dimension that intersected with consensus reality. The Ima's job was to hold the universe's

She was the last of them. And the forgetting was failing. The next morning, she went to the British Library. She had Elara's face

The neurologist wrote a prescription. Elara never filled it. Three weeks later, she found the photograph.