Before approaching the well, a starry voice appeared in Ikai's mind:
[ STAR EXPAND SYSTEM: Blocking others from seeing you, anyone who tries to enter your mind or take your memories will be brought before the Star Expansion Court]
"Oh, so I don't have to worry about this well taking my memories."
Ikai approached the black metal, his footsteps echoing softly on the ground. The air around the well became heavier, as if the atmosphere itself was resisting his presence.
His reflection in the smooth surface was not accurate, his features blurred, his eyes deepened as if they were foreign, as if the mirror was not showing him who he was, but who he might be.
And then a voice came from the well. Not an echo or a whisper, but something that had no timbre or sound, a voice that seemed to exist beyond human comprehension.
It was a voice that carried the weight of centuries, of long-buried secrets:
"You're a stranger! You wear a star! You have no right to forget! Forgetting is for the weak."
Ikai's fists clenched involuntarily, filled with joy. The star in his chest trembled, not with terror, but with a strange sense of recognition, as if it had heard this voice before, in the distant past.
He felt a wave of something primal, ancient rising within him. It seemed that the wall had seen everyone... every soul that had ever been on the brink of destruction... but not him. Not quite.
Suddenly, the voice stopped. It was as if the metal mouth had lost interest in him, as if he had spoken the word and now considered him unworthy of further attention.
The silence that followed was deafening, more disturbing than the words themselves. It hung in the air, thick and heavy, pressing down on the boy like a physical burden.
Kaer looked at him in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed slightly and his gaze became more intense, as if he was trying to unravel the mystery behind his words.
—This is... the first time.
He said slowly, as if weighing each word.
— Everyone who came closer heard... their shadows. They spoke, whispered, and reminded. But there was nothing beside you. Why?
Ikai shrugged his shoulders, trying to maintain his outward calmness, even though he was gnawed by anxiety on the inside.
He could feel the anxiety growing, like an invisible itch under his skin, but he didn't want to show his weakness.
—Maybe I just don't have anything to forget.
He replied, trying to sound light and airy.
— Or maybe I've already forgotten everything.
"Although that's a lie, of course. My memories are blocked from the outside world. They've taken away even the things I want to remember. Even the moments I had cherished as the most precious now seemed hazy and out of reach, like dreams that slipped away upon waking."
Kaer nervously ran a hand across his face, as if trying to erase not only a possible smile, but also any doubts that might be reflected in his features. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying his inner tension.
— All right.
He said at last, trying to sound confident.
—Come on. You can't stay here too long. This place... it's not for outsiders. I'll take you to a house where you can spend the night. You'll be safe there, at least for tonight.
... They walked away from the well in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken questions.
The dim light from the lampposts cast long shadows on the cracked ground, making the ruins seem even more desolate.
Kaer was visibly shaken, his voice barely above a whisper as he muttered under his breath, confusion and unease in his words.
— Everyone hears…
He said, shaking his head slightly.
— Everyone hears themselves… their thoughts, their fears, their memories. But you…
He turned to Ikai, his eyes searching for an answer that wasn't there.
— You don't hear. It's… wrong. It's not how it should be.
Ikai Liu wanted to smile wryly to relieve the tension with a joke or a dismissive remark, but the words stuck in his throat.
The star on his chest pulsed with an irritating insistence, its presence a constant reminder of something he could not quite name.
He felt the city's gaze upon him, its silent observation a heavy weight on his shoulders.
The city was not just unfamiliar, it watched, it waited, as if it knew something he did not.
As they approached the ruined house, its crumbling walls and broken windows stood as silent sentinels on the path to the encroaching darkness.
Kaer stopped at the entrance and turned to Ikai, his face a mixture of indecision.
—You can rest here.
He said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.
—I... I always come here when it gets too much. When the voices get louder, when the shadows seem too close. It's quiet here. Safe, in a way.
He laughed hollowly.
—At least it's as safe as anywhere else in this city.
The air in the house was stuffy, but there was a kind of silence, a calmness that seemed to defy the chaos outside.
Ikai looked around at the remains of what might once have been a home, and he felt something similar—nostalgia, perhaps, or just a faint echo of a memory he couldn't place.
But the star in his chest reminded him that rest would be fleeting, if it came at all.
The house was half-ruined, its walls eaten by sand and moisture. Through the cracks in the roof, he could see the stars, dead and alien.
Kaer sat Ikai on a broken bench. There was no furniture inside, only charred beams and the smell of old dust.
—This is the safest place. — He said quietly.
—People don't come here. They are afraid that the forgotten ones still live within these walls.
Ikai leaned against the wall, feeling tired. The star from the well was still ringing in his head. He wanted to ask Kaar something else, but the words stuck in his throat.
Silence. Only the boy's breathing in front of him and the rustling of an unfamiliar moth near his head.
The house was dilapidated, its walls eroded by sand and moisture. Through the cracks in the roof, he could see the stars, dead and foreign.
Kaer sat Ikai down on a broken bench. There was no furniture inside, only charred beams and the smell of old dust.
— This is the safest place to rest. — He said quietly.
— People don't come here. They're afraid that the forgotten ones still live within these walls.
Ikai leaned against the wall, feeling tired. The words from the well were still ringing in his head. He wanted to ask Kaer something else, but the words stuck in his throat.
All he could hear was the boy's breathing in front of him and the rustling of an unfamiliar moth near his head.
But in the midst of this silence, something suddenly changed, as if the rhythmic buzzing of the moth had intensified above Kaer's head.
—What is it? Why has it suddenly started making these sounds?
The star within Ikai trembled, and he knew it was not a good omen. The boy and the moth, who had been sitting on the floor, seemed to have disappeared. All that remained was a dusty indentation in the boards.
Ikai stood up abruptly, clenching his teeth.
— Even when I'm with them, they disappear! And as always, I can't hold anyone back! It's perfect... It's just perfect!
The star compass in his chest flashed, and the needle shifted slightly downward, beneath the earth.