Haruto stepped into the street. The sky looked strange. The clouds didn't move. The light was soft and orange, but there was no sun.
Everything felt... quiet. Too quiet.
He walked slowly. The ground was made of metal. His shoes made little sounds as he moved. The buildings around him were tall, old, and covered with pipes. Some looked like clock towers. Others looked like old shops. Most were closed.
Haruto didn't know where he was.
He didn't feel like himself. His body felt strong, but his heart felt scared. He had memories, but some weren't his. Some showed dark things—fighting, running, even... killing.
He stopped in front of a broken window. Inside, he saw old-style clothes. Long coats, vests, hats. Like people from the 1980s or even older.
Then he saw a man across the street.
Tall. Wearing a grey coat. Just standing and watching.
Haruto froze.
The man didn't move.Then—he was gone.
No sound. No steps. Just disappeared.
Haruto felt cold. Was he being followed?
His head hurt. More memories came. A knife. Blood. A man crying. Then silence.
He shook his head.
That wasn't me.That was the old owner of this body.
The killer.
The one who had already taken revenge... and died.And somehow, Haruto's soul had entered his body.
He turned the corner and saw someone sitting on a bench.
A woman. Pale face. Wearing black gloves. She held a newspaper, but it had no words—just strange symbols and moving lines.
She looked at Haruto.
"You're not from here, are you?" she said.
Haruto blinked. "Huh?"
She smiled like she already knew.
"Time is starting to break," she said, folding the paper.
Before Haruto could ask what she meant—She vanished.
Gone. Just like the man earlier.
Now he was alone again.
But one thing stayed:A soft ticking sound. Like a clock.
It was coming from under the ground.
Haruto looked around.
This place wasn't dead.
It was waiting.