He closed his eyes, not by choice, but because of something the scale was doing, a gentle pressure that wasn't forceful but was insistent.
And he saw.
An image. Not a complete memory, a fragment. A piece of something larger than a human mind could contain in its entirety.
A place he didn't recognize, not Aethelgard architecture, not the architecture of anywhere he knew. Between. A space that existed between other spaces.
A figure. He couldn't see the face, not because of darkness, but because something within the fragment itself wouldn't allow it. Like looking at a light that was too bright: the shape was there, the identity wasn't.
And Haru.
Not Haru as he knew him, not the guy from Room 217, not the continuous. It was Haru, but in a position that didn't make sense yet. Like seeing someone in a completely wrong context and having the brain take a moment to recognize them.
