Kenji didn't stop running until the abandoned station disappeared behind rows of dark buildings.
Only then did Myers slow.
Neither of them spoke.
The city felt wrong.
Too quiet.
No traffic.
No distant sirens.
Even the wind seemed to avoid the streets.
Kenji finally broke the silence.
"…My mother."
Myers looked over.
"What about her?"
"That voice."
Kenji swallowed.
"It sounded like her."
Myers didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he scanned the empty road before leading Kenji into a narrow alley hidden between two abandoned warehouses.
Only after they were certain they were alone did he speak.
"Memory is dangerous."
Kenji frowned.
"I know."
"No."
Myers shook his head.
"You don't."
He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
"It doesn't always show you the past."
Kenji stared.
"It shows you whatever wants to be remembered."
Those words settled heavily.
Kenji thought about the woman in the photograph.
The laboratory.
The voice.
The warning.
Don't let him wake up.
Then the announcement.
Subject Seven has breached containment.
If he wakes up…
We all die.
None of it made sense.
Unless—
"My mother worked at that hospital."
Myers opened his eyes.
"You never told me that."
"I never thought it mattered."
"It matters now."
Kenji replayed every conversation he'd ever had with her.
The long nights.
The way she never talked about certain patients.
The way she'd sometimes wake in the middle of the night, breathing hard, staring toward the hallway as if she'd heard someone call her name.
The strange silence whenever anyone mentioned the old hospital wing.
He had always assumed she was exhausted.
Now…
He wasn't so sure.
"We're going to see her."
Myers' answer came instantly.
"No."
Kenji turned.
"What?"
"Not tonight."
"Why?"
"Because if they found us…"
He glanced back toward the station.
"…they'll already be watching your house."
Kenji's heartbeat slowed.
Not from calm.
From realization.
"They know where I live."
"They've always known."
Silence.
Then—
A phone vibrated.
Both men froze.
It wasn't Kenji's.
It was Myers'.
He slowly reached into his pocket.
The screen displayed a number.
No name.
No caller ID.
Just one thing.
UNKNOWN.
Myers stared at it.
His face lost what little color remained.
He declined the call.
Immediately…
The phone rang again.
UNKNOWN.
He declined it again.
Three seconds later…
It rang a third time.
Kenji looked at him.
"Who is it?"
"I don't know."
"You've never answered?"
"I answered once."
Kenji waited.
Myers looked away.
"I don't remember what they said."
The ringing stopped.
A notification appeared instead.
One message.
WELCOME BACK.
Nothing else.
No number.
No timestamp.
The message deleted itself.
Kenji saw it happen.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Myers did something Kenji had never seen before.
He removed the battery from the phone.
Dropped both pieces into different trash bins.
And kept walking.
"You just threw your phone away."
"I've done it before."
"How many times?"
"…Eight."
Kenji stopped.
"Eight?"
"It always finds me."
The alley suddenly felt much smaller.
Far above them, clouds drifted across the moon.
For a brief second…
The moon turned crimson.
Kenji blinked.
Normal again.
"…Did you see that?"
Myers nodded.
"I wish I hadn't."
Across the city…
Inside a modest apartment…
Kenji's mother stood alone in the kitchen.
She hadn't gone to sleep.
She couldn't.
The kettle had been boiling for almost ten minutes.
She never poured the water.
Her eyes remained fixed on an old wooden box resting on the dining table.
The box had never been opened.
Not since that night.
Fifteen years ago.
She reached toward it.
Stopped.
Pulled her hand back.
The room suddenly became colder.
The kitchen light flickered once.
Then twice.
Then stayed on.
A voice whispered behind her.
"…You promised."
Her entire body froze.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
She turned around.
No one.
The apartment was empty.
She closed her eyes.
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"I'm not hearing this again."
She grabbed the wooden box.
Held it tightly against her chest.
The whisper returned.
Closer this time.
"…He's remembering."
A tear rolled down her face.
"I know."
Silence.
Then another whisper.
"…Tell him."
She shook her head.
"I can't."
"…Why?"
Her breathing became uneven.
"Because if he remembers everything…"
She squeezed the box until her knuckles turned white.
"…they'll remember him."
The apartment fell silent again.
Outside…
A single black cat sat on the windowsill.
Watching.
Its golden eyes never blinked.
Then…
Without making a sound…
It walked away into the darkness.
Miles away…
In a room hidden beneath the city…
An elderly man slowly opened his eyes.
Candles burned without heat around him.
Ancient symbols covered the stone floor.
A young woman knelt nearby.
"They've found Subject Seven."
The old man smiled.
Not pleasantly.
"So…"
He looked toward the ceiling.
"It has finally begun."
The woman hesitated.
"Should we interfere?"
The old man laughed quietly.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because destiny is impatient."
He reached toward an old chessboard.
Only three pieces remained.
A king.
A knight.
And a pawn.
He moved the pawn forward one square.
"The first move has already been made."
The candles extinguished themselves.
Darkness filled the chamber.
Only one sentence remained.
Spoken softly into the silence.
"Now let's see who remembers first."