The air was quiet that evening—too quiet.
The city lights flickered, and the faint mist made the streets glow like glass.
Adrian, still wearing his alias attire, tugged his cloak tighter.
"Rex," he murmured, glancing at the lion cub walking beside him. "Let's hurry. Father's going to scold me again if I'm late."
The cub gave a soft growl in reply, tail swishing. Adrian smiled faintly.
That was when he felt it.
A presence.
Cold. Still. Watching.
He froze mid-step.
The sound of footsteps echoed from the alley behind him.
One… two… slow, deliberate.
Adrian turned around, eyes narrowing. "Who's there?"
No answer.
Only the faint whisper of the wind.
He stepped closer, his mana sense stretching outward like a wave—
—and hit a wall. A thick, untraceable aura that swallowed everything around it.
"Interesting," a low voice said. "You're sharper than before, Evan."
Adrian's blood ran cold.
He stiffened, staring into the shadows. "…What did you call me?"
The figure emerged—a tall person cloaked in black, wearing a white mask that hid their entire face.
Only their eyes glowed faintly red beneath it.
"I said—Evan," the figure repeated softly. "That was your name, wasn't it?"
Adrian's throat tightened.
"How… do you know that name?"
A pause. Then a faint chuckle.
"You still don't remember me. Typical."
Adrian clenched his fists.
"Enough games. Who are you?"
"Someone who remembers who you used to be."
Rex stepped in front of Adrian, fur bristling. The cub growled low, its blue eyes burning.
Adrian placed a hand on its head. "Easy, Rex."
His voice wavered, just slightly. "You're mistaking me for someone else."
The figure tilted their head.
"Am I?"
Adrian's heart pounded.
He wanted to move—say something—but his body refused. That name… Evan.
A name no one in this world should know.
The figure took one slow step closer.
"Tell me something," they said, voice soft but sharp. "Do you ever dream of a world filled with machines, lights, and roads that touch the horizon?"
Adrian's eyes widened. "…What are you talking about?"
"You do, don't you?"
That voice—calm, confident, but almost sad.
"You remember fragments. A crash… a friend you tried to save. And pain."
Adrian stumbled back, breathing uneven.
"How—how do you know that?"
The masked person didn't answer immediately. They simply looked at him, unreadable behind that white mask.
"I was there."
Those three words hit harder than any sword strike.
Adrian's mouth went dry. "You… what?"
"I was there, when you took that hit for her," the figure continued, tone steady. "You've changed so much, Evan. So much… yet you're still you."
"I'm not Evan!" Adrian shouted, his voice cracking. "My name is Adrian Leonhart!"
Silence.
Then the figure laughed softly, almost… kindly.
"Of course. The Crown Prince. The prodigy. The child who hides his pain behind ambition."
Adrian gritted his teeth. "You think you know me?"
"I know enough," the figure replied. "Enough to warn you."
"Warn me?"
"Yes. There are pieces of your past that shouldn't exist in this world."
Adrian frowned. "What do you mean?"
The figure turned, their cloak rippling as the fog thickened around them.
"When the time comes, you'll remember everything. But remember this—"
They faced him again, eyes burning faintly through the mist.
"Not all friends remain friends in this life."
Adrian blinked. "Wait—what—!"
But before he could step forward, the air distorted.
The masked figure's body shimmered like smoke—
—and disappeared.
Gone.
Rex growled softly beside him.
Adrian just stood there, his breath shallow, his heart racing.
He looked around. Nothing.
The fog. The empty street. The faint sound of distant bells from the palace.
"Evan…" he whispered under his breath. "Who are you really talking about?"
He touched his chest. His heartbeat was too fast, too heavy.
Everything about that encounter felt wrong.
He took a shaky breath. "Rex… let's go."
The cub nudged his leg softly, sensing his unease.
As they walked, Adrian looked up at the night sky.
A strange ache spread through his chest—a feeling he couldn't name.
Not fear. Not confusion. Something… else.
Something familiar.
Like a voice calling from far, far away.
He whispered again, to no one but himself—
"Who are you… and why do you know me?"
The wind didn't answer.
Only carried the faint echo of the masked figure's words through the mist—
"Not all friends remain friends in this life."