I opened my eyes.
Yet I wasn’t sure I had truly awakened.
Everything around me was white.
There were no walls, no ceiling, no floor.
Instead, just thick light — too bright to see through, yet impossible to look away from.
In front of me… stood me.
It wasn’t a reflection.
Rather, it was a version of myself — upright, eyes sharp, wearing a strange uniform:
a long dark coat with symbols etched along the collar.
On the left side of the chest: a symbol — a closing spiral, like a window sealing itself.
I stepped forward, ready to speak.
However, he spoke first.
“You shouldn’t have come back.”
His voice… was mine.
But deeper. Colder.
Detached.
“What is this?” I asked. “A memory? Or a dream?”
“A memory inside a memory,” he replied.
“The third layer.
Too deep to tell what’s real.”
I clenched my fists. My chest tightened.
“Who am I?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned away — toward a silver door, slightly ajar.
I followed his gaze.
Behind him… was Long.
A younger version.
He was dressed in white, holding a glowing cube in both hands.
I tried to move, to run to him.
But I couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t lift.
The other me spoke again:
“If you want to save him, you’ll have to remember.
But if you remember everything…
the door will close forever.”
The words hit like ice water.
Meanwhile, from somewhere far off — a voice echoed.
Wind.
She was calling my name.
I struggled to turn, but it felt like I was pinned behind a wall of invisible glass.
Still, my voice broke through the pressure as I shouted:
“I’m not afraid of the truth.
But I won’t lose my son.”
In that instant, everything shattered —
the white room exploded into thousands of fragments of light.
I gasped and opened my eyes.
Wind was kneeling beside me, her hand on my forehead as if removing an invisible thread.
“You’re back,” she whispered.
“You were shaking… What did you see?”
I stared at her for a long time.
Then, I slowly shook my head.
“It’s not something you should know.”
Behind me, a door had opened.
No one had touched it.
Yet it pulsed gently — a low, steady hum, like a heartbeat.
It wasn’t responding to Wind.
It was responding…
to me.
