Reader, Reader... Dear reader
What's wrong with you, can't you focus about the important stuff.
Imean I get that your confused, but please don't waste your time on Martin. He is stupid, was born stupid, continued being stupid, died stupid..... So yah he couldn't comprehend the flaws of his wish, before it was tooooooooo late....
This is enough about that little shit, let's focus on Arthur..
Arthur zigzagged his way out of the hospital, he nearly choked himself to death, because he forgot to breathe... He sat down at the first steps of entering the hospital… trying to make sense of the number, and if he could do anything to change his father's destiny or his family's… He was with him yesterday, what happened?
Trying to make sense of it was like a noise in his head without any thought at all… He looked like he was thinking about something, but no—he was thoughtless.
He heard some young people arguing about something… his focus shifted toward them subconsciously… They were talking about football, or soccer however you like to name it… about who the best club is, or was, or ever will be… Then they mentioned a team named Man United, and how the Red Devils once dominated the game… One of them wished if he had an opinion about Ronaldo he could change how Man U were doing right now by doing such and such… They continued arguing, but that was enough to trigger something long forgotten—the wish.
Then it hit him: I wished to know the time of death, if anyone I know is near… so maybe, just maybe, I could save them.
He tried so hard to remember what Martin wished that day… but he couldn't.
He took a walk around the hospital, telling himself: my father died with my mother in an accident, and now my father died again… I can't save you, Father, but your daughter—my wife—and your grandchildren, I will save them.
He didn't walk long before he found himself in front of the hospital again, and his family just arrived: his mom, his sister, her husband, their kids, his wife and children, all about to enter… They asked him where he was… but he couldn't speak. Something else was on his mind, and they saw him shocked, as if his life force had been drained…
It was true that his new mother, father, and sister were in-laws, but to him they were family. They entered the hospital trying to be strong… stayed silent before they burst into crying.
Anyway, time passed. Arthur didn't talk from the moment he saw his family till the funeral. Even after it was done, he still didn't speak. And when he did, his words were short, as few as possible.
He was thinking about what to do with the number he saw above his entire family. And the worst part: no matter what he did, he couldn't remember the number even if he tried his hardest. The moment he turned his head, he forgot everything. He couldn't even write it down—every time he tried, something he couldn't understand happened.
So you could understand, reader, this is what happened: if the number above his little daughter was 12345, he would write 12345. But the moment he let go of the pen and looked at the paper, it showed 34214—a number he never wrote. He even tried to take pictures, but nothing appeared above their heads.
The only thing he could do was separate the numbers into dates… and those numbers stayed with him. Remember, reader, we agreed we would use 2017 as the year, okay? So the number was: 22305030102017. That's it. Which, dividing it, became 22:30:50 on 30 October 2017. Everyone in his family had the same number.
But that wasn't true at all. The real number was:
14151312020518238120251521415451208919208511419235189209191420121521204120592019215212020854522912
…in the order from his mother, to his sister and husband, his wife and... You know what I don't want to give you a headache oldest to youngest....
And if you look at the number above, you can clearly see there's no 7. So why?
He only saw one number because he stopped looking at the numbers and tried looking for solutions. When he wrote a number down, the number on the paper changed. Only If he looked to checked if the numbers were correct...
You might think there was nothing to prove this, but he tested it. He wrote the number down, made his wife read it, then looked at the number above his daughter, and asked her to reread it—and he heard the number change. He tried again, this time with his daughter reading while he looked at his wife's number, then his son's, and so on.
He was sure of it. So sure, he forgot one thing:
Who planted that thought in.....
.... his mind?
He thought he had five months to plan — time enough for a trip, to lock them all in a house until the days passed, or to think of something else entirely. He truly believed he had time.
He was so blind.
Only two weeks had passed when the call came.
A voice told him to meet someone on a rooftop.
He went running — because of a single name: Cinatas.
When he arrived, the instructions were clear: Look down to see me coming.
From high above, he scanned the streets, eyes darting across the crowd. He followed one stranger after another until his gaze caught someone familiar. His attention locked, tracking the figure below.
There was something about this man… something he almost recognized.
The man moved from 51st Street toward 82nd. Suddenly, someone lunged, stabbing him, leaving him bleeding out in the middle of the street — between 51st and 82nd — directly in front of building no. 3812.
Later, he would learn there was a number branded into the knife: 025.
But at that moment, all he saw from above was the man falling. He ran down the stairs, desperate to help. As he reached the street and got closer, he finally saw the face.
Above the dying man's body hovered a number:
51823812025.
It was his sister-in-law's husband.
He had died between 51st and 82nd Street, in front of building 3812, with a knife marked 025.
Right then, he realized it wasn't just about a date. There was another factor at play — something he hadn't yet considered.
But why had the name Cinatas been given to him? How much did he know?
He turned back toward the rooftop he'd just left.
There, on the edge, stood Cinatas
— and from afar, he could swear he saw him smiling.