Chapter 2: The Echo That Follows

The next morning, Klein Moretti woke up with the distinct feeling that something had been erased.

He couldn't explain it.

The books on his desk were exactly where he had left them. His notes were still open to the last passage he had been reading. The apartment smelled of the faint traces of tea he had forgotten to finish.

And yet… something felt off.

Klein rubbed his temples. He had dealt with many supernatural phenomena since stepping onto the path of the Seer, but this—this was different.

This wasn't a nightmare, nor a revelation, nor a premonition.

It was an absence.

A blank space where something should be.

"Did something happen last night?" Klein asked himself, trying to reconstruct his memories.

Nothing came to mind.

And yet, there was an echo in his thoughts, an impression that someone had stood in his doorway, watching.

"Forget it," Klein muttered. He didn't have time to dwell on strange feelings.

Yet, as he prepared for his day—dressing in his usual three-piece suit, checking his revolver, making sure his charms were in place—he couldn't shake the sense that he was missing something.

Like a puzzle piece left just outside his line of sight.

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The Theater of Forgotten Meetings

It wasn't until later that day—when he walked through the bustling streets of Tingen—that he saw them again.

It happened in passing.

He was crossing the street near Iron Gate Avenue when his gaze was drawn—for no reason at all—to a lone figure leaning lazily against a street lamp.

They were draped in the same loose, shifting fabrics as before, their black and white hair flickering like candlelight.

For a split second, their silver-gray eyes met his.

And everything clicked.

"You."

The word slipped out before he could stop it.

The stranger—Yeaia Nolas—tilted their head, their expression mildly amused, as if they had been expecting this exact moment.

"Ah. Finally noticing me again?" they mused.

Klein's breath caught.

"Again?"

Yeaia simply smiled.

And in that moment, Klein realized what was so unnatural about them.

They didn't just exist outside of time.

They existed outside of memory.

Every time he met them, it was as if his mind was forced to start over, like flipping back to the first page of a book he had already read but couldn't remember.

"Who are you?" Klein asked, his voice lower this time.

Yeaia exhaled slowly, stretching as if they had all the time in the world.

"Haven't we done this before?"

"I wouldn't know," Klein admitted, testing the words on his tongue. "Would I?"

Yeaia's smile deepened.

"Ah, now you're getting it."

The way they said it sent a chill down Klein's spine.

This wasn't a coincidence. This wasn't a trick. This was something far worse.

Something beyond him.

Klein took a slow step forward, studying them. He reached for his spiritual intuition—the same instinct that warned him of lurking dangers, of ancient entities hiding in the shadows.

Nothing.

Yeaia didn't feel like a Seer. Didn't feel like a Spectator. Didn't feel like anything.

"You're unnatural," Klein murmured.

Yeaia chuckled.

"I've been called worse."

"Are you a Beyonder?"

"If I was, would that make this easier to understand?"

Klein frowned. They weren't answering directly. Which meant either they were playing a game with him, or the truth was something he wouldn't be able to comprehend yet.

And that was terrifying.

Because the only beings capable of such things were far beyond the scope of human understanding.

Klein straightened, his mind racing. If Yeaia wasn't a Beyonder, what were they?

A spirit? A dream given form? A fragment of something greater?

He couldn't be sure.

But one thing was certain—

They weren't bound by time. Or memory.

And that meant they were dangerous.

"What do you want?" Klein asked finally.

Yeaia's gaze drifted away, watching the passersby with a distant, lazy amusement.

"I think the better question is… what do you want, Klein Moretti?"

Klein stiffened.

They knew his name.

Of course they did.

Before he could press further, Yeaia suddenly stretched, turning away.

"Well, this was fun. See you next time."

And just like before—

They disappeared.

No light. No sound. No spatial distortion.

Just… gone.

Like a half-remembered dream slipping away.

Klein let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

His fingers twitched.

Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver coin.

A Seer's divination relied on instincts, on glimpses of fate that could be unraveled through careful readings. If Yeaia was truly beyond his understanding, then perhaps fate itself would offer him a glimpse of the truth.

Klein flicked the coin into the air, watching it spin.

"What is Yeaia Nolas?"

The coin landed in his palm.

He opened his hand—

And froze.

The result was blank.

Not heads. Not tails.

Just… nothing.

As if fate itself refused to acknowledge the question.

Klein's grip tightened around the coin.

For the first time in a long while, he felt genuinely afraid.

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End of Chapter 2

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