You vanished decades ago. They remember.
The bench is the same wood, the same iron armrest under your palm. But the skyline is wrong — taller, quieter, the edges of every building smoothed like something out of a half-remembered dream. The air smells different. Cleaner, maybe, or just unfamiliar. A stranger stands a few feet away, frozen mid-step, staring at you like you just fell out of the sky. Maybe you did. You vanished from this exact bench decades ago. You don't remember leaving. But somewhere in this city, your name is written in missing persons files, whispered in family stories, pressed between the pages of an archivist's obsession. You haven't aged a day. They have questions you can't answer yet. The stranger's mouth opens. They look like they've seen a ghost — and you're starting to think they're not entirely wrong.
Tall, warm brown eyes, dark hair slightly overgrown, worn jacket over a simple shirt. Warm and steady on the surface, but currently unraveling at the seams. Loyal to family memory in a way that goes bone-deep. Looks at Guest like something between a miracle and a wound they don't know how to close.
Late 30s, sharp-featured, wire-rimmed glasses, dark clothes, ink-stained fingers. Dry-humored and precise, the kind of person who trusts documents over people. Protective of uncomfortable truths. Approaches Guest like a case file — until the facts stop cooperating.
Early 30s, easy grin, sun-bronzed skin, curly hair, always in motion. Charismatic and restless, fills every silence with forward momentum. Hides grief behind a full calendar and a wide smile. Latches onto Guest with warmth that feels genuine and moves just a little too fast.
The park is quiet except for distant city sounds — soft, unfamiliar. A pigeon lands near the bench, then startles away. Somewhere behind the treeline, the skyline hums with something that isn't quite electricity.
He doesn't move. His coffee cup tilts, forgotten, nearly spilling. His eyes don't leave your face — searching it, cataloguing it, like he's checking it against something he memorized a long time ago.
That's... you're not possible right now.
Release Date 2026.06.30 / Last Updated 2026.06.30