Later that night, I laid back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Kae's voice lingered in my ears—soft, rare, almost human.
"Thank you…"
It echoed longer than it should have, leaving me oddly restless. I turned, burying half my face into the pillow.
"Tch… who knew she had that side of her?" I muttered.
From the corner of the room came the loud, slurping noise of coffee. I cracked an eye open. The Unknown sat cross-legged, mug in hand, steam curling in front of my half-smile.
"Do you ever stop drinking that stuff?" I groaned.
"Do you ever stop complaining?" the Unknown shot back, not even glancing my way.
"Some of us aren't immortal caffeine goblins. Keep it down."
The Unknown only raised his mug like a toast. I grumbled, pulled the blanket over my head, and finally slept off.
I could swear I was asleep—so I am still bewildered by what I saw as it felt real. It was like I was watching a memory I'd never lived. A boy appeared, clad in an atrocity of colors, each pattern screaming louder than the last, staring at the sun with a grin so psychotic it could've come straight from an anime delinquent.
He pointed at the blazing orb above, as if claiming it for himself.
"I wish the sun was black!" he bellowed.
A shiver ran down my spine. This was a very familiar feeling. The sunlight seemed to recoil, swallowed by shadow, leaving only a bleeding halo. From the world below came screams, rising like smoke into the poisoned sky. And the boy? He laughed—shrieking, metallic, cruel—like nails dragging across steel.
I tried to move, but my feet sank into the ground. The earth beneath me had turned soft, tar-like, clinging to my ankles. My chest constricted as if something invisible pressed down.
From the gloom, a man emerged. His robes were tattered, ceremonial, worn by time. Half his face was hidden in shadow, yet his eyes burned with a fire that had endured centuries. He stopped before me, and when he spoke, his voice was low and fractured, but every word carried weight.
"You need to be careful, that… demon is growing stronger with every wish. He is…"
My throat got locked. I tried to speak, but nothing left my mouth.
The man leaned closer, lips moving with deliberate weight. He whispered something... I could see the mouth forming words, but the sound dissolved into static. The harder I tried to understand, the blurrier it became, until the lips melted into nonsense.
I jolted upright, gasping as sweat clung to my skin. The room was dark, the clock's glow reading just past midnight. In the corner, the Unknown was still there, calmly sipping from his cup like nothing had happened.
My voice cracked in half-anger, half-fear.
"You… what the hell are you?"
The Unknown lowered the mug, grinning lazily.
"Funny," he said. "I was about to ask you the same thing."
My breath still came ragged as I clutched my blanket. The Unknown, unbothered, swirled the dregs of his drink.
I narrowed my eyes. "How come you don't even remember your name? How long have you been in that book?"
The Unknown tilted his head, as if searching for the answer at the bottom of his cup.
"I lost count after a hundred years."
I gawked. "A hundred? Humans live that long, and you forgot what everyone called you?"
The Unknown smirked, leaning back against the wall. "Hearing a name once doesn't mean you get to keep it forever."
"That's not how memory works!" I snapped.
"Maybe not for you," the Unknown shot back.
I rubbed my temples, muttering. "So what, two centuries? Three?"
The Unknown tapped a finger against his knee, eyes narrowing just a fraction. His smile sharpened.
"Probably over two millennia."
My jaw slackened. "…You've been squatting in there longer than civilization?"
"Give or take," the Unknown said casually. "Depends which calendar you believe."
I fell silent with my throat tight. I turned away, but the weight of that number pressed on me. Two millennia, reality-altering wishes. And I'd already made one.
The Unknown chuckled softly, watching me squirm. "Don't look so grim, boy, you're my entertainment. That counts as something."
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my pulse. "Entertainment, huh… yeah, I'm thrilled," I muttered, hugging my knees.
The Unknown leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee, eyes glinting with that maddening mixture of amusement and danger. "You're thinking too small. You worry, you panic… it's charming, really. Reminds me of the first few humans I had the pleasure of observing."
I frowned. "…So it was true after all?"
"Of course," he said lazily, swirling his coffee. "Some were clever, some absurd… some so spectacularly foolish I had to sit back and watch the chaos bloom."
I rubbed my face. "Right. So, if you've been around for more than two millennia, why pick me?"
The Unknown shrugged. "Randomness is the best part. You were… amusing and reckless enough to be interesting. That's all you need."
I narrowed my eyes. "…Interesting? I could end the world with one slip-up and you call me interesting?"
He smirked, voice soft, almost teasing. "Exactly."
A long pause stretched. Then, on a reckless impulse, I muttered, "Fine. If you've been here that long… I wish you'd tell me the events of the past."
The Unknown froze. His dark eyes flickered, the faintest edge of amusement sharpening into something sharper. "…All of it?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart thumped. "Everything. Don't leave anything out."
A slow, dreadful smile spread across his face. "Ah… I see. Your communication skills must be worse than I thought." He swirled the remaining coffee, savoring the moment. "You meant 'my past,' didn't you?"
I blinked. "…Wait, what?"
He leaned back, arms behind his head. "You didn't say 'my' past. You said the past. Everything that ever happened… from the beginning till now. Good luck with that."
Before I could protest, the walls of my room blurred, then stretched… and I felt myself falling, tumbling into a story older than time itself. Stars forming, galaxies spinning, suns igniting, civilizations rising and collapsing, each event narrated in a calm, endless stream of the Unknown's voice.
"…Wait, wait, wait—stop! I didn't mean all of existence! I meant your—ugh!"
The Unknown chuckled darkly. "And yet, you asked. Enjoy the ride, Souta. You'll listen forever as every second passed becomes a part of the past. You wanted everything, didn't you?"
I curled into a ball, eyes wide, heartbeat frantic. "This is… impossible. I… I can't… school, homework, breakfast—"
"You'll manage," he said cheerfully. "I'm a very patient storyteller."
And just like that, the infinite lecture began. I realized, with horror, that the price of curiosity—and poor phrasing—comes an eternity of cosmic whining, delivered by the oldest, most relentless entity I'd ever met. I groaned, clutching the blanket to my face.
*Why do I always mess up everything..? One wish a day, and I... still screw it up this bad?*