The rooftop was quiet. Too quiet.
A small figure sat on the edge of the concrete railing, legs dangling off the side as he hummed a soft, eerie melody. It wasn't cheerful, but it wasn't sad either — it was the kind of tune only someone who had been alone for too long would hum.
A calm, patient sound.
The wind pushed through the rooftop garden, rustling through abandoned laundry poles and half-broken antennas. But the boy didn't stop humming.
He was waiting.
Then — vrrt… vrrt…
A tiny silver communicator vibrated against his thigh.
He sighed, like he already knew who it was.
He picked it up, pressed it to his ear, and didn't say a word.
A distorted voice came through, rough and layered like three people speaking at once. "Unit 03. Switch protocols. Observation priority is changing."
The boy didn't respond.
Wind blew again, lifting strands of his hair. "Keep eyes on three specific individuals."
A pause.
"Tel Suyin. Rin Shen. And… Lian Ye."
The boy's humming finally stopped.
"Do not engage. Do not interfere."
"Just watch."
A soft click.
Call ended.
The boy lowered the communicator and slipped it into his pocket.
He didn't look annoyed. He didn't look stressed.
He just… breathed out slowly.
Then he stood.
This was the first time his full form caught the evening light clearly.
He was small — no more than ten years old, but something about him felt older than everyone in the building combined. His posture was too relaxed. Too intentional. Too still.
His hair, soft and snowy white, was tied loosely behind his head, but the wind kept blowing stray strands across his face.
In that light, the white looked almost silver.
His eyes were the unsettling part.
Deep, muted lavender, ringed faintly with grey — eyes that looked like they had seen too much, even though his body was clearly still a kid's.
Not emotionless.
Just… detached.
Like everything in the world was either too boring or too predictable.
His skin was pale with a hint of blue under the eyes, the "I haven't slept in two days but it doesn't affect me" look.
He wore an oversized black hoodie, sleeves almost swallowing his hands, paired with loose grey shorts and bare feet.
Yes — bare feet, lightly dirty at the soles, like he had climbed this rooftop without bothering with shoes.
The only thing out of place was the thin metal anklet on his right leg.
Faint symbols glowed under it — a control device.
One only the informant faction used on their "special assets."
He stepped forward, letting the wind hit his face, and whispered to no one:
"…Lian Ye, huh."
His lavender eyes narrowed a little.
Then the corner of his mouth lifted — the slightest, softest smile.
"This might be fun."
---
Lian Ye moved slowly through the hallway, the long white recovery coat hanging off him like borrowed feathers. Every step felt like someone tugged at the stitches under his ribs, but whatever—he'd felt worse.
He stopped in front of his door, exhaled, and stepped inside. Finally, sleep.
Knock. Knock.
He froze.
Another knock. Same rhythm.
He opened the door.
A man stood there—tall, lean, broad-shouldered, maybe 24. Sharp jaw, messy dark hair, his eye has a scar, eyes like someone who had mapped the entire world in straight lines. Calm but alert.
Name: Kael Jinhai
Codename: Eagle
A marksman so good it felt unfair—he didn't need a line of sight. He didn't miss. Ever.
"Good evening," Kael said, hands in his pockets. "Do you have a minute?.I want to talk to you."
Lian Ye followed him to the balcony walkway. Kael leaned against the railing like he owned the night breeze.
"I heard the report," Kael said casually, eyes scanning rooftops. "And I know a little about what you ran into."
Lian Ye raised a brow. "You do?"
Kael nodded. "Yeah. She's from the Assassin Faction. The captain, actually."
He paused, tone dropping.
"She's rarely seen. Very, very rarely. But her ability…"
He tapped his forehead.
"She makes people… end themselves. No one knows how. No pattern, no trigger. She just looks at you, and you break."
Lian Ye's chest tightened—not from fear but from the weight of realizing just how many monsters walked this world disguised as people.
Kael sighed like he was tired of explaining things to rookies.He then told Lian ye more about each faction and how they operate then he stood straight."Anyway, you and I should talk more often. You're interesting. And the Order thinks you're important."
He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped.
"Oh—almost forgot."
He smirked over his shoulder.
"Your items. From your past life. They've been returned. The stuff you had on you when we found you."
Lian Ye blinked. "All of them?"
"Yeah. Not just that broach."
Kael gave a lazy salute, then walked back toward the stairwell.
Lian Ye stood there a second longer, then exhaled.
"…Thanks," he said quietly.
He pushed open his door and walked in—his mind suddenly very awake.
If the past he couldn't remember was finally coming back…
it meant someone wanted him to remember it.
---
Lian Ye walked slowly down the hallway, still dressed in the long white coat they gave him. His footsteps echoed—too loud for someone who still felt like his body was floating. The building's lights hummed above him, flickering once, like they were also tired.
He stopped at a metal door labeled property retrieval.
He pushed it open.
Inside, a bored-looking staff worker handed him a small gray box.
"Your belongings. Everything you had when you were… recovered."
Lian Ye nodded, thanked the man quietly, and sat down at a nearby table.
Inside the box:
A cracked black smartphone
A thin wallet
Three old transport cards
And a tiny bracelet with a small white lotus charm dangling from it
The moment he picked up the charm, something in his chest warmed. Familiar. Soft. Safe.
A feeling he couldn't place, like a memory on the tip of his tongue.
He smiled without knowing why.
He slipped the bracelet into his pocket and closed the box.
When he tried unlocking his phone, the screen demanded a passcode. His fingers hovered over the keypad, but nothing came—blank. No instinct, no muscle memory. Just… silence.
After a minute of trying random combinations, he sighed and handed it to the associate.
"Can you bypass it?"
"We'll try," the man said. "Come back in an hour."
Lian Ye nodded, thanked him again, and headed to the cafeteria.
---
He sat alone at a small table, a tray of cabbage, pork slices, and orange juice in front of him. He didn't remember liking this kind of meal, but his body seemed to eat comfortably. Almost like muscle memory existed even if his mind didn't.
Then—
Someone walked in.
A man.
Older. Maybe mid-twenties.
He sat far away, deep in the shadowy corner. His posture was straight, his gaze unblinking.
Lian Ye didn't notice him at first.
The man raised his hand.
And snapped his fingers.
Snap.
Instantly, Lian Ye's head turned toward him—like the sound pulled at the strings of his soul. Their eyes met.
And then—
Everything went black.
His body slumped forward, food untouched.
---
INSIDE THE MIND
A void.
Pitch-black, infinite, cold.
Lian Ye floated weightlessly, eyes blank, expression empty—like a statue in nothingness.
Across from him, the man materialized as if stepping through a curtain of darkness.
"So this is your mind…" he whispered, voice echoing in the abyss. "Let's see what you're hiding."
He extended his hand toward Lian Ye's forehead.
The moment his fingers got close—
The void trembled.
A ripple.
Then another.
Then—
The entire world shattered.
The darkness bent into impossible shapes:
Buildings tearing in half and floating sideways
Trees suspended upside down in a sky that wasn't a sky
The colors blue, red, green, and purple splintering like cracked glass
Whispering voices weaving through the air, overlapping, looping, distorting
Memories flashing and breaking before they could form
"…what…?" the man gasped.
The ground beneath him broke apart like puzzle pieces spinning out of order.
He clutched his head as the whispers grew louder—
Layered voices, chanting, laughing, crying, whispering in a language that wasn't human.
The man stumbled, eyes wide.
"This—this is not normal memory corruption… this—"
A scream tore through his ears—except it wasn't sound. It was imposed directly into his mind.
He stumbled back, fell, and was forcibly ejected.
---
THE REAL WORLD
Far away—in a dark private room—
a man jolted awake, drenched in sweat.
He gasped, dragging air into his lungs, hand over his racing heart.
Then slowly…
He smiled.
A low chuckle escaped him, spreading into something unhinged—amused, fascinated, thrilled.
He wiped sweat from his forehead and whispered:
"…Lian Ye."
The lights flickered.