The crimson silhouette stood across the street.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smiling.
Myers saw it first.
Every trace of color vanished from his face.
For the first time since Kenji met him, the older man looked shaken.
Not nervous.
Not cautious.
Terrified.
Kenji followed his gaze.
The rooftop sat empty.
The silhouette was gone.
Only darkness remained.
When he looked back at Myers, the man was already standing.
"We need to leave."
Kenji frowned.
"What?"
"Now."
The sharpness in Myers' voice surprised him.
Whatever calm Myers carried moments ago had vanished completely.
Kenji stood.
"What's wrong?"
Myers didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stared toward the rooftop.
Listening.
The same way the bookstore owner had listened.
The same way the old woman had listened.
Like they all knew something Kenji didn't.
Finally, Myers spoke.
"It remembers me."
Those four words settled heavily between them.
Kenji's stomach tightened.
"What remembers you?"
Myers laughed once.
A bitter sound.
"If I knew that, my life would've been much easier."
A bus rolled past.
The noise broke the silence for a moment.
When it disappeared, Myers had already started walking.
Kenji followed.
"You said you've been dealing with this for fifteen years."
"Yeah."
"And you still don't know what it is?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
Almost angry.
"I know what it does."
His pace quickened.
"I know what follows."
"I know what happens."
"But no."
His jaw tightened.
"I don't know what it actually is."
Kenji noticed something.
Every time Myers spoke about the silhouette, he never called it a monster.
Or a ghost.
Or a demon.
Always it.
Like giving it a name would somehow make things worse.
They crossed another street.
The city had grown quieter.
The sky remained hidden behind clouds.
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled.
Myers finally slowed near an abandoned train station.
The building looked forgotten.
Boarded windows.
Broken signs.
Rust covering everything.
No one came here anymore.
Which was probably why Myers chose it.
He pushed open a side door.
The hinges groaned.
Dust floated through pale moonlight.
Kenji followed him inside.
The station smelled old.
Like rain and forgotten years.
Myers sat on an overturned crate.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Myers asked:
"What do you remember?"
Kenji frowned.
"About what?"
"The fire."
The question caught him off guard.
Images immediately surfaced.
Smoke.
Heat.
Screaming.
The child.
The collapsing floor.
Darkness.
Then—
Nothing.
Kenji shook his head.
"Not much."
Myers nodded.
"Same thing happened to me."
Kenji looked up.
Myers stared into the darkness.
His voice grew quieter.
"Fifteen years ago, I died during an experiment."
The room fell silent.
"I remember entering."
His eyes remained distant.
"I remember alarms."
"I remember people screaming."
"I remember pain."
Then he slowly shook his head.
"And then I woke up in a morgue."
Kenji felt cold.
Because that part sounded exactly the same.
"My parents identified my body at six in the morning."
Myers laughed softly.
The sound held no humor.
"Security cameras recorded me walking out at one."
The exact same thing.
The exact same impossible timeline.
Kenji felt his pulse quicken.
"You think someone did this to us?"
Myers thought about it.
Then slowly shook his head.
"No."
The answer surprised him.
"Why not?"
"Because whoever did it would've come looking for me."
His expression darkened.
"No one ever did."
The silence returned.
Then Myers reached into his jacket.
He removed a folded photograph.
Old.
Damaged.
Weathered by time.
He handed it over.
Kenji unfolded it.
His breath caught.
The picture showed six people standing together.
Scientists.
Doctors.
Researchers.
The date in the corner read fifteen years ago.
Five of the faces had been crossed out.
Only one remained untouched.
A woman.
Young.
Dark hair.
Sharp eyes.
Kenji stared.
Recognition hit instantly.
Not because he knew her.
Because he'd seen her before.
In the vision.
The hospital room.
The prayer.
The singing.
The same woman.
His grip tightened.
"Who is she?"
Myers' expression hardened.
"The only survivor."
Kenji looked up.
"What happened to everyone else?"
Myers answered without hesitation.
"They died."
Thunder rolled outside.
Louder this time.
The station trembled slightly.
Kenji looked back at the photograph.
The woman's face seemed almost familiar.
Like something buried deep inside his memory recognized her.
Then he noticed something written on the back.
A single word.
Handwritten.
Faded.
Project Lazarus.
The moment Kenji read it—
Pain exploded behind his eyes.
Not a headache.
A memory.
A real memory.
Bright lights.
Metal walls.
A child crying.
Voices shouting.
A woman screaming:
"SHUT IT DOWN!"
Then another voice.
Calm.
Terrified.
Certain.
"It's already awake."
The vision shattered.
Kenji nearly fell forward.
The photograph slipped from his hands.
His breathing became uneven.
Myers immediately stood.
"What did you see?"
Kenji grabbed his head.
The room spun.
Lights.
Voices.
Blood.
Fear.
And something else.
Something standing behind the glass.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smiling.
The exact same smile.
Kenji looked up.
"Myers…"
His voice shook.
The older man's face tightened.
"What?"
Kenji swallowed hard.
For the first time since waking up, he was absolutely certain of something.
The thing following them wasn't created after they died.
It had been there before.
Before the accident.
Before the morgue.
Before everything.
And somehow…
They had forgotten.
Outside the abandoned station, thunder cracked across the sky.
For a split second, lightning illuminated the broken windows.
And standing beyond the glass—
Watching them—
Was the crimson silhouette.
This time not smiling.
This time angry.
Because Kenji had remembered something.