The rain had stopped. Not the kind of still that meant peace, but the kind that meant the world was holding its breath.
Ren woke on a cot in a dimly lit room, the smell of wet stone and old machinery surrounding him. His clothes were dry, replaced by a simple gray uniform, nothing like his school shirt.
Aira sat across the room, polishing her silver weapon, the gun that had glimmered with spiritual energy. Her eyes, sharp as broken glass, never left him.
> "You woke up," she said, voice calm but distant.
"Do you know what you are?"
Ren shook his head. He wanted to ask about the girl from the memory, the one that had screamed his name, but no words came. His throat felt like sandpaper.
> "You're a Reverie."
The word felt heavy, like it carried centuries of sorrow.
> "A… what?"
> "Someone who can see the past of dying spirits. Not just their death, their lives… their pain."
Aira rose, pacing the room. The low hum of machinery filled the silence.
> "Most people can't even see Ethereals, much less enter their memories. You… you resonate with them. That's why the one tonight reacted to you. You aren't just sensitive, you're dangerous."
Ren's stomach twisted. Dangerous? He had never wanted to hurt anyone. He'd never even considered what his powers meant.
> "And… the Order?" he croaked.
"What do you want from me?"
Aira stopped pacing, her gaze hardening.
> "We contain them. We neutralize the Ethereals. Some of them… become unstable, like tonight's. If you can control your Reverie, we can use your power to cleanse them before they harm people."
Ren shivered. Cleanse? He thought of the girl again, hollow eyes, voice trembling, reaching for him. Could he erase her? Could he kill her memory just because she was dangerous?
> "And if I refuse?"
Aira's shoulders tensed.
> "Then… you might destroy yourself. Or worse others."
The room fell silent again. The hum of machinery and the occasional drip from the ceiling were all that kept him tethered to reality.
---
Later, in the training hall, the Order gathered. Aira led Ren through rows of young agents, each practicing complex rituals, forming sigils with their hands that glimmered faintly in the dim light.
> "Focus," Aira instructed.
"Feel the echo, not the spirit. Don't lose yourself."
Ren raised his hands, hesitating. The world shifted, the walls of the training hall melted, replaced by a bustling marketplace from a long-dead Ethereal's memory. The smell of fish, the chatter of vendors… and then, pain.
A boy's laughter. A mother yelling. A cart tumbling over. The Ethereal's final moments.
Ren recoiled, dropping to his knees. The memory clung to him, pulling at his chest, forcing him to relive it.
Aira knelt beside him.
> "Control it. You are not them. You are not their past. You are the present."
Ren's breathing came in ragged gasps. He lifted his head and met her gaze. Something passed between them, recognition, understanding, and fear.
> "Why do you care?" he whispered.
"You're just like the rest of them, people who want to use me."
Aira's hand brushed his shoulder.
> "Maybe. Or maybe I don't want you to die alone."
The words hung like a raindrop frozen in the air.
---
That night, Ren sat on the rooftop, staring at the endless gray sky. Memories of the girl swirled around him. Every Ethereal he'd seen, every fragment of grief he carried, every fragment of his own past.
The rain began again, soft at first, then harder, faster. He realized something terrifying: when his emotions surged, the city responded.
> "So… it's me," he whispered. "I'm the reason it never stops."
And beneath the downpour, a shadow moved silently on a distant rooftop.
> Shouma Rindo. Leader of the Refrains.
Watching. Waiting.
He smirked faintly.
> "Interesting… the boy who sees tomorrow."
---
End of Chapter 2