Paris, February 10, 2027 — 11:05 a.m.
The rain fell as if the sky were washing away a sin that had yet to be forgiven.
Raien stood at the corner of the sidewalk, watching the cars and passersby with eyes that no longer belonged to this time.
The phone message still echoed in his mind:
"96 hours. Change everything… or die again."
Beside him, Niko walked with uneven steps, glancing around as if expecting the sky to collapse.
He muttered, eyes distant and cold:
"This isn't the world we left behind. It wears the same face… but underneath, it's rotting."
Raien didn't reply.
His thoughts were tangled, gathered like fog too dense to see through.
When he returned to his apartment, he opened the door quietly.
Soft laughter drifted from within.
The scent of coffee filled the air, and the television buzzed faintly from the living room.
Wait…
Everything was just as he had left it.
But his heart refused to believe it.
He stepped into the children's room.
Noelle, five years old, was lining up her dolls neatly on the floor, humming a tune to herself.
Next to her sat Danny, barely three, guiding a toy car along the edge of the carpet.
The moment he saw Raien, Danny squealed in delight:
"Daddy!"
He ran forward with tiny arms outstretched, crashing into Raien's leg before clinging to him.
Raien knelt down, hugging him tightly, then pulled Noelle into his arms as well.
He held them as if they were the last thread tethering him to reality.
"You're… you're here. You're still here."
But when he blinked, Noelle's eyes seemed… older. For the briefest second, they looked like Lima's.
And inside, a cold voice whispered:
"Is what you're seeing real… or just an extension of the lie?"
Lima walked into the room, holding a cup of milk, a warm smile on her face.
She said:
"Where were you? I didn't hear the door."
He shrugged, avoiding her eyes.
"I needed to clear my head."
She stared a moment longer, as if trying to read something written on his skin. Then, softly:
"You look at me like I'm a stranger. Like you came back… but left something behind."
Raien didn't respond.
He just stared — as if she were the memory of someone he once knew… but could no longer touch.
That night, the children slept peacefully.
Raien sat alone in the living room, watching the video Niko had given him.
A dark alley.
A man hung by an electric cable, twisted into the shape of a broken heart.
In the shadows, a faceless figure stood, holding a phone.
On the screen:
*His own image.*
Niko, watching the footage beside him, said:
"You're not the only one. There's someone else… or something… that looks like you."
He pulled out a blurry photo of a man resembling Raien, but with subtle differences:
A scar over his left eye, shorter hair, and a cold smile.
Raien whispered:
"Who is that?"
Niko replied:
"Maybe another version of you… or maybe you, before you died."
Suddenly, the landline rang.
Raien picked up the receiver.
A distorted voice came through — neither male nor female — a mix of static and fractured words:
> "The first hour has ended. You are now under observation."
>
"Who are you?"
"The one moving the story… or the one trying to end it."
The call disconnected.
In a room with no doors, lit only by the cold pulse of flickering screens, something watched.
Its silhouette bent forward, hands still, yet every image obeyed.
It had no eyes, but its gaze was everywhere.
Footage of Raien, his children, the blood-slick alleyway… all played in silence.
Then it stood, and with a finger that left behind black flame, it scrawled on the concrete wall:
"The second hour… will begin from within."
And the lights went out.
But the watching did not stop.