We didn't leave it at that.
The moment the system dropped the task, the room didn't even feel like a place to rest anymore. Whatever exhaustion we had earlier was still there, sitting heavy in our bodies, but it got pushed aside by something else. Curiosity, maybe. Or just that familiar pull whenever something unfinished shows itself right in front of us.
"He couldn't have gone far," I said, glancing toward Millien.
The duwende was already standing, arms crossed, like he had been waiting for me to say it. "He's still here. Just… avoiding you."
"Great," Gino muttered, pushing himself up from the couch. "A shy ghost. That's new."
Sarah stretched lightly, still shaking off sleep. "Maybe we scared him."
Cynthia tilted her head slightly. "Or maybe he doesn't want to be seen by too many people."
"That's why you go first," I told Millien, nodding toward the door. "Find him. We'll follow."
Millien didn't argue. He just hopped down and walked ahead like he knew exactly where to go.
We trailed behind him through the halls, the usual noise of students filling the air, footsteps, chatter, laughter, but none of it really registered. I was watching for something else. That faint presence, that subtle shift in the air that meant someone unseen was nearby.
We checked the usual places first. Empty classrooms. Hallways where students passed through but never stayed. Even the benches outside.
Nothing.
"He's avoiding crowded places," Cynthia pointed out as we stepped out of another empty room.
"Or he's hiding where no one would bother him," Sarah added quietly.
I stopped walking.
There was one place like that.
"…Library."
Gino let out a soft groan. "Of course it's the library."
We didn't waste time.
The moment we stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. It was quieter here, calmer. The kind of silence that wasn't empty, just… focused. Rows of shelves stretched out in front of us, students scattered around tables, buried in books and notes.
Perfect place for someone who didn't want to be noticed.
Millien slowed down as we moved deeper inside, his steps becoming more deliberate. Then he stopped near one of the corners, where the shelves were a little more isolated.
"He's here," he said quietly.
I followed his gaze.
At first, there was nothing.
Then...
A book moved.
Not much. Just enough.
It slid slightly across the table, like someone invisible was adjusting it.
We didn't rush.
Didn't call out.
I stepped forward slowly, stopping just a few feet away.
"You don't have to hide," I said, keeping my voice low so we wouldn't disturb anyone else. "We're not here to bother you."
There was no response.
The book stayed still.
I glanced at Millien.
He sighed, then stepped forward himself, folding his arms as he looked straight at the empty space in front of us.
"It's fine," he said plainly. "They can see you. All of them."
That did it.
The air shifted slightly.
Then he appeared.
Faint at first, like he wasn't fully committing to being seen, but enough for all of us to make out his form. A guy, about our age, maybe a bit older. He looked… normal. Too normal. Like any other student you'd pass by without thinking twice.
Except for the way his presence felt… thin.
Like he didn't fully belong here anymore.
He glanced at each of us, cautious, before his gaze settled on me.
"…You're the one from earlier," he said.
I nodded. "Yeah."
A pause.
Then he looked at the others, still unsure. "They really can see me?"
"They can," I answered. "You're not alone here."
He let out a small breath, something between relief and disbelief.
"…That's new."
Gino crossed his arms, leaning slightly to the side. "You helped him earlier. Least you could do is not disappear right after."
The ghost scratched the back of his head, looking a little embarrassed. "Yeah… sorry about that. I just… wasn't used to being seen."
"That's fair," Sarah said gently.
Cynthia stepped a little closer, her tone softer than usual. "What's your name?"
He hesitated for a second, like he hadn't been asked that in a while.
"…Paulo," he said. "Paulo Balicasa."
I nodded once, letting the name settle.
"Anthony," I replied, then gestured to the others. "That's Gino, Sarah, and Cynthia. And you already know Millien."
Paulo gave a small nod to each of them, still a bit unsure but no longer trying to disappear.
"Engineering?" I asked, glancing at the books laid out in front of him.
His eyes flickered to the table.
"…Yeah," he said quietly. "Senior year."
There was something in the way he said it.
Not pride.
Not exactly regret either.
Just… something unfinished.
"You're still studying," Cynthia pointed out, her gaze shifting between the open pages and his hands that kept unconsciously moving like he was still flipping through them.
Paulo gave a faint smile.
"I guess," he admitted. "It's just… habit."
Silence settled between us for a moment.
Then I asked the question that had been sitting at the back of my mind since we saw him.
"…How did you die?"
He didn't flinch.
Didn't hesitate.
"Leukemia," he said simply.
No drama.
No bitterness.
Just a fact.
"I was in and out of the hospital for a while," he continued, his gaze drifting slightly, like he was looking at something only he could see. "Tried to keep up with everything. Classes, requirements… all of it."
His hand moved over the book again, fingers brushing the page without actually touching it.
"I thought I had time," he added quietly.
No one spoke after that.
There wasn't really anything to say.
Because we all understood what that meant.
I glanced at the system.
Nothing.
No hints.
No instructions.
No easy solution.
So this… this was on me.
I looked back at Paulo, watching the way he stayed near the table, the books, the notes, like they were the only things anchoring him here.
"…You keep coming back here," I said slowly.
He didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
I stepped closer, just enough to stand beside him, my eyes following the pages he had been "reading."
"…Is there something you wanted to do?" I asked. "Something you didn't get to finish?"
That got his attention.
He looked at me properly this time.
Not hopeful.
Not desperate.
Just… tired.
"…I was supposed to graduate," he said after a while.
His voice wasn't shaking.
But it felt heavy.
"Just a few more months," he continued, his gaze dropping to the book again. "I already passed most of my subjects. I just needed to finish the last ones."
He let out a quiet breath.
"I kept thinking… if I could just hold on a little longer…"
His hand clenched slightly.
"…I would've made it."
No one interrupted him.
No one tried to soften it.
Because there was nothing to soften.
"I didn't get to walk on that stage," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Didn't get to hear my name called. Didn't get to see my parents there."
His lips curved into a faint, almost bitter smile.
"Sounds small, right?"
"No," I said immediately.
He looked at me again.
"It's not," I continued, holding his gaze. "That matters."
A long silence followed.
And this time, it didn't feel awkward.
It felt… clear.
Because now we knew.
Not from the system.
Not from a prompt.
But from him.
I exhaled slowly, straightening up.
"…Alright," I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else.
Then I looked back at the team.
They already understood.
No explanation needed.
We knew what we had to do.
We just had to figure out how.