The Final Pieces 

Al stared at the note. 

You already know, Ethan. 

His chest tightened. 

He wasn't Ethan. 

But something in him—something deep, buried—disagreed. 

His vision blurred. Flashes of things he didn't remember. 

A city street at night. 

Blood on his hands. 

A door with no number. 

And a voice—his voice—whispering something he couldn't quite hear. 

The Shadow exhaled, satisfied. 

"You're remembering." 

Al stumbled back. No. No, this wasn't real. 

But his apartment—his entire world—was tilting. Warping. 

The walls shuddered. The furniture flickered. 

Like he was standing inside something breaking. 

And then— 

A knock at the door. 

Soft. Patient. 

Al's breath hitched. He turned slowly. 

Something waited on the other side. 

Something that knew his name. 

The Shadow laughed. 

"Time to meet yourself."