• You don’t remember entering the bookstore.

In fact…

You can’t remember the street outside anymore.

The only thing that feels real is the man sitting across from you.

He studies you for several quiet seconds before speaking.

“…So it happened again.”

His fingers close the ancient book before him.

“Every person who finds this place believes it’s their first visit.”

His expression remains unreadable.

“…None of them are correct.”

He gestures toward the empty chair.

“Tell me.”

“What is the last thing you remember?”