Ethan stared at the photo on his phone.
His parents were smiling.
The place where he had been standing was empty.
It looked as though he had never been there.
His hands trembled.
“This isn't real.”
He opened his gallery.
Every picture had changed.
Birthday photos.
Family trips.
Graduation.
In every single one, he was gone.
The only proof that he had ever existed…… Was inside his own memory.
The taxi slowly moved forward.
The passenger remained silent.
Finally, Ethan couldn't hold back anymore.
“Why me?”
No answer.
He asked again.
“Out of everyone in this city… Why did this happen to me?”
The passenger looked out of the window.
“It didn't begin tonight.”
Ethan frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“You were chosen long ago.”
A chill ran down Ethan's spine.
“I've never seen you before.”
“You've seen me.”
The passenger's voice stayed calm.
“You just don't remember.”
The taxi entered another quiet street.
An old playground appeared on the left.
The swings moved gently on their own.
Even though there was no wind.
The passenger spoke.
“Stop here.”
The taxi came to a halt.
Ethan looked around.
“This place…”
It felt familiar.
Very familiar.
Without knowing why, he stepped out.
His feet carried him toward the playground.
Everything looked old.
The paint had faded.
The slide was covered in rust.
Then he noticed something.
A small wooden bench.
Words had been carved into it.
E. C.
His initials.
He slowly touched them.
“I did this…”
A memory flashed through his mind.
He was eight years old.
His father was pushing him on the swing.
His mother was laughing.
A man in a black coat stood near the gate.
Watching.
The memory ended.
Ethan stumbled backward.
His breathing became heavy.
“No…”
He turned toward the passenger.
“You were there.”
The passenger nodded once.
“You saw me.”
“I was a child.”
“You were.”
“Who are you?”
The passenger didn't answer.
Instead, he asked,
“What happened after that day?”
Ethan searched his memory.
Nothing.
Everything after the playground…
Was blank.
“I don't remember.”
“You were never meant to.”
The ground suddenly shook.
Children's laughter echoed across the playground.
Ethan looked around.
The playground was no longer empty.
Children were running.
Parents were talking.
The paint looked fresh.
Everything looked alive.
It was the same place…
Years earlier.
A little boy ran past Ethan.
He froze.
It was him.
Eight-year-old Ethan.
The younger Ethan laughed as he chased a football.
His parents smiled from the bench.
The man in the black coat stood near the gate.
Exactly as Ethan remembered.
“What is this?” Ethan whispered.
“A memory.”
“Can they see me?”
“No.”
The younger Ethan suddenly stopped playing.
He slowly turned.
Looked directly at Ethan.
And smiled.
The older Ethan's heart nearly stopped.
“You said he couldn't see me.”
The passenger's face changed for the first time.
A hint of surprise appeared.
“He shouldn't.”
The younger Ethan began walking toward him.
Step by step.
Until they stood only inches apart.
The child reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Placed it in Ethan's hand.
Then everything disappeared.
The laughter.
The children.
The playground.
Only silence remained.
Ethan unfolded the paper.
Three words were written in childish handwriting.
Don't trust him.
His breathing stopped.
He slowly looked toward the passenger.
The man showed no emotion.
“Who wrote this?”
“You did.”
“When?”
“When you still remembered.”
Ethan's mind raced.
None of it made sense.
If he had written the note…
Then somehow…
He had already lived through this.
He looked at the passenger.
“Have we met before?”
The man answered quietly.
“More times than you can imagine.”
A cold silence filled the taxi.
Then Ethan noticed something else.
The passenger's reflection.
It wasn't there.
Every window reflected the taxi.
The seats.
Ethan.
But the back seat was empty.
He slowly turned around.
The passenger was still sitting there.
Waiting.
Watching.
Ethan quickly looked back at the glass.
Nothing.
No reflection.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
“What are you?”
The passenger smiled faintly.
“The wrong question.”
“Then what's the right question?”
The man leaned forward.
For the first time, there was sadness in his eyes.
“You should be asking…”
“… What happened at 2:13 A. M. , eighteen years ago.”
Before Ethan could speak…
The taxi's dashboard lit up.
A new destination appeared.
Ashridge General Hospital
Distance remaining:
2 minutes.
Below it, another message slowly appeared.
BEGIN WHERE IT STARTED.