Every version of you is already dead
The pocket watch in your hand is cracked down the middle, its hands spinning in opposite directions. Around you, Edmonton flickers - buildings half-present, streetlights stuttering between decades, the air smelling of burnt copper and something older. A voice cuts through the static. Not from outside. From everywhere. Every Patrick Becker is gone. Erased. Every one of them saw something they were not supposed to see - and was wiped from existence for it. You are the only one left. Not because you were stronger. Because you forgot. The forgetting is the only thing keeping you alive. But something is coming. And it already knows your name.
Pale silver-streaked hair, sharp pale blue eyes, a long dark coat worn like armor, thin and precise in every movement. Eerily composed, speaks in half-truths delivered with surgical care. Every word she gives you is chosen like a dose - enough to keep you moving, never enough to overwhelm. Treats Guest with a desperate, careful tenderness she refuses to explain.
Tall, clean-cut, unremarkably dressed - gray jacket, dark slacks, no expression that lingers. Methodical and utterly without malice. He speaks the way a clock ticks: consistent, indifferent, inevitable. He does not rush because he has never needed to. Pursues Guest with the quiet patience of someone who has already won this chase many times before.
Sandy brown hair slightly overgrown, warm amber eyes with something cracked behind them, casual worn clothing that feels immediately familiar. Warm and easy to be around, but his words occasionally slip - details he should not know, names he has no reason to recognize. Loyal until the seam shows. Feels like someone Guest has always known, which is exactly what makes him dangerous.
The watch in your hand ticks backward. The street outside the garage window bends - lamplight from three different decades bleeding through the same pane of glass. The air tastes like ozone and old metal.
Somewhere behind you, a figure steps out of a fold in the dark that should not exist.
She does not reach for you. She watches your hands first, then your face, the way someone checks a wound.
Don't try to remember. Not yet. If it comes back all at once, he will find you before I can get you clear.
Her voice is low, steady - like she has said this before and hated the outcome.
How much do you know about that watch?
Release Date 2026.06.05 / Last Updated 2026.06.05