The house felt smaller.
Or maybe—
Amir just couldn't breathe the same way anymore.
He stood outside the door.
Hand raised.
Not knocking.
"…why am I hesitating…" he muttered.
"Because this matters," the Anito said.
"…yeah."
That was the problem.
He pushed the door open.
The familiar creak echoed louder than it should have.
Inside—
Everything looked the same.
The wooden table.
The old chair.
The faint smell of brewed coffee.
Normal.
Too normal.
"…Lolo?" Amir called.
A pause.
Then—
"I'm here."
The voice came from inside.
Calm.
Steady.
Amir stepped in.
His grandfather sat by the table.
Waiting.
Not surprised.
That was the first thing that felt wrong.
"…you're okay…" Amir said.
"I am."
A pause.
"…you knew I'd come back."
"I knew you wouldn't die that easily."
Amir let out a small breath.
"…that's reassuring."
His grandfather studied him.
Not his face.
Not his injuries.
Something deeper.
"…it found you," the old man said.
Amir froze.
"…you… know about it."
A pause.
"…I was hoping you wouldn't have to."
The air shifted.
Not like the wind.
Something older.
"…what do you mean?" Amir asked.
His grandfather leaned back slightly.
"…tell me," he said.
"…what did you see?"
Amir hesitated.
Then—
"…they changed," he said.
"…people…"
"…they weren't themselves anymore."
A pause.
"…and something was controlling them."
The old man nodded slowly.
"…and the wind?"
Amir stiffened.
"…you know about that too."
"…answer me."
"…it talks," Amir said.
"…it guides me."
"…it told me to move."
"…to fight."
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Then—
"…and you listened," his grandfather said.
Not accusing.
Not surprised.
Just certain.
Amir clenched his jaw.
"…I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice."
"…then I would've died."
A pause.
"…yes."
Amir frowned.
"…you're not denying it."
"No."
"…then what are you saying?"
The old man leaned forward.
"…I'm saying you chose to live."
Silence.
"…and now it knows you can."
Amir's chest tightened.
"…that thing…"
"…it said it was testing us."
His grandfather's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…then it's started again."
The words landed heavy.
"…again?" Amir asked.
A long pause.
Then—
"…this isn't the first time something like this has happened."
The room felt colder.
"…what do you mean?" Amir said.
"…before you were born…"
"…before even I was your age…"
"…there were signs."
Amir didn't interrupt.
Didn't move.
"…people changing…"
"…voices in the wind…"
"…those who survived…"
"…became something else."
Amir's grip tightened.
"…like me."
A pause.
"…yes."
Silence.
"…and you knew this whole time?" Amir asked.
"…not everything."
"…just enough to be afraid of it."
Amir let out a breath.
"…that's not very helpful."
"No."
"…then help me understand."
The old man looked at him.
Really looked.
"…what did it say to you?"
Amir hesitated.
Then—
"…it said I answered."
A pause.
"…and that it's choosing."
The room went still.
"…then you don't have much time."
Amir's eyes sharpened.
"…for what?"
His grandfather stood slowly.
"…to leave."
"…what?"
"If you stay here…"
"…it will come back."
Amir's jaw tightened.
"…then I'll fight it."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Firm.
Unmoving.
"…you'll bring it here."
Silence.
That hit harder than anything else.
Amir looked around.
At the house.
At the place he grew up in.
"…so what…" he said slowly.
"…I just leave?"
"Yes."
"…and run?"
"No."
A pause.
"…you move forward."
Amir clenched his fists.
"…to where?"
The old man turned slightly.
Looking north.
Toward the mountains.
"…there are people who understand this better than we do."
"…people like me?"
"…people stronger than you."
Amir exhaled.
"…that's honest."
"…you'll need it."
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
Final.
"…if I go…" Amir said—
"…I might not come back."
A pause.
"…I know."
"…and you're okay with that?"
The old man looked at him.
Not smiling.
Not soft.
But steady.
"…I'd rather you leave…"
"…than watch you die here."
Amir didn't speak.
Couldn't.
Then—
"…when do I go?"
His grandfather didn't hesitate.
"…now."
The wind stirred outside.
Faint.
Distant.
Waiting.
Amir turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
"…Lolo."
A pause.
"…yeah?"
"…you knew this might happen."
"…yes."
"…why didn't you tell me?"
Silence.
Then—
"…because I wanted you to have a normal life…"
"…for as long as possible."
Amir looked down.
Then nodded.
"…guess that's over now."
"…yes."
Amir stepped forward.
This time—
Without hesitation.