Even in the early morning light, the hallways of Havenbrook High felt wrong.
Light filtered in through cracked windows and broken glass—but it didn't reach far.
Shadows clung to the walls.
Stretched across the floor.
Gathered in the corners like something was hiding just out of sight.
Somewhere deeper in the building, wind howled through a shattered window.
The sound twisted through the corridors—
Low.
Uneven.
Almost like breathing.
Alice flinched.
Ryan didn't need to look to know she was on edge.
He could hear it.
The shift in her breathing.
The slight hitch every time a sound echoed too loudly.
She walked close enough that their shoulders brushed with every step.
Too close for comfort.
Close enough for safety.
His gaze dropped briefly.
Her hands were trembling—fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt as if holding onto something solid.
Ryan slowed slightly.
Then reached out and took her hand.
Her fingers stilled instantly.
"…Do you want to continue our conversation?" he asked quietly.
He didn't.
Not really.
But right now—
Fear was a worse enemy than whatever was hiding in these halls.
He gave her hand a small squeeze.
"Do you want to continue?" she asked quietly.
They turned the corner—
BANG.
A locker slammed shut further down the hall.
Alice gasped and stepped straight into him.
Ryan caught her without thinking.
Her arms wrapped around him instantly, gripping his shirt tightly as she buried her face against his chest.
Ryan exhaled softly.
"You know," he murmured, glancing down at her, "if something actually attacks… this is going to make things harder."
She didn't let go.
"I… I know."
Her voice was small.
Muffled.
"I'm sorry."
Ryan's expression softened.
He lifted a hand and gently tilted her chin upward.
"You don't ever have to apologize to me."
Her eyes shimmered.
Not from fear alone.
"What did you mean…" she asked quietly, "…when you said you've already lived through all of this?"
The question hung between them.
Ryan didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he slowly released her—but didn't let go completely.
He took her hand again.
And started walking.
Their footsteps echoed softly through the corridor.
For a while—
That was the only sound.
Alice said nothing.
But her grip tightened slightly.
As if she was afraid that if she spoke again—
He might stop.
Eventually—
Ryan did.
"Exactly what I said."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"I've already lived this life once."
Alice's breath caught.
"…What?"
"For a hundred years."
They took a few more steps.
Ryan's gaze stayed forward.
"A hundred years?" she repeated, barely above a whisper.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"The stronger you become, the longer you live."
"That's what mana does."
"I was a hundred and twenty-five when it ended."
A pause.
"By then I was only middle-aged."
Alice stopped walking.
Ryan felt the pull on his hand and stopped as well.
"What do you mean… it ended?"
Ryan didn't turn.
For a moment—
He wasn't here.
The hallway.
The silence.
The present—
It all slipped.
Replaced by memory.
"The timeline was reset," he said simply.
Then—
He started walking again.
And this time—
He didn't leave anything out.
He told her about the first day.
About Charl.
About the office building.
About holding her broken body—
Not letting go.
Not even when he should have.
He told her about running.
Bleeding.
Barely able to stand.
He told her about the forest.
The hunger.
The nights spent in trees—
In caves—
In holes dug into the ground just to survive.
What should have taken an hour…
Took weeks.
"And when I finally made it here…"
His voice lowered slightly.
"…Havenbrook was already gone."
Alice's grip tightened painfully around his hand.
"I buried them myself."
No hesitation.
No pause.
Just fact.
"I didn't even have time to stay."
They turned another corner.
The hallway stretched longer here.
Darker.
"I had nothing left."
Ryan's voice didn't break.
Didn't waver.
That somehow made it worse.
He kept going.
Through battles.
Through blood.
Through years of fighting—
Climbing—
Surviving—
Until—
"After a hundred years…"
He slowed.
"…I was so tired."
They stopped walking.
"I had no one left, Alice."
Silence filled the space between them.
Heavy.
Then—
"She appeared."
Ryan's eyes lifted slightly.
Not to the hallway—
But beyond it.
"Like something out of a story."
"She told me I could start over."
His voice softened.
"With all my memories."
Alice's lips parted slightly.
"I didn't believe her."
A faint, almost bitter smile.
"Then everything went dark."
Ryan finally turned toward her.
For the first time—
She saw it.
Not just weight.
Not just experience.
Grief.
Deep.
Endless.
"And then…"
His voice dropped.
"…I was back."
"In my office."
"Two days before it all started."
"For the first time in a hundred years…"
His voice lowered.
"…I didn't mind waking up."
Alice didn't speak.
Couldn't.
Her hand tightened around his.
As if that alone could anchor him here.
Keep him from slipping back into that past.
Ryan exhaled slowly.
Then—
His expression shifted.
Subtle.
But immediate.
His head tilted slightly.
"…Did you hear that?"
Alice froze.
"…What?"
Ryan didn't answer.
His gaze had already moved.
Up.
Toward the ceiling.
The hallway fell completely still.
No wind.
No distant noise.
Nothing.
For a moment—
There was only silence.
Then—
A sound.
Soft.
Faint.
Scrape.
Not behind them.
Not ahead.
Above.
Alice's fingers tightened around his.
"Ryan…"
He didn't respond.
His eyes were locked on the ceiling.
A shadow stretched across it—
Too long.
Too thin.
And then—
It moved.
Not toward them.
Across.
Like it was… circling.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just—
Wrong.
Something crawled across the ceiling.
Its limbs bending at angles that didn't make sense.
Its body hugging the surface like it didn't belong to gravity at all.
For a fraction of a second—
It passed through a sliver of light.
And Ryan saw it.
Clearly.
Too clearly.
His grip tightened around his weapon.
Alice's voice trembled.
"…What is that?"
Ryan didn't look away.
Didn't blink.
His voice was quiet.
Flat.
Controlled.
"…So that's what it is."
Ryan's grip tightened.
"Stay behind me."
Author's Note:
It wasn't wandering.
It was watching.
And now… it knows they've seen it.