If seeing a dead friend in a dream was already bizarre, running into him again in real life could only be described as a full-on mental meltdown.
It happened during a routine night investigation. The underground tunnels beneath the European branch archives were cold and damp, the lights flickering like they hadn't been paid for. Dust and rust hung thick in the air, making it feel like a low-budget horror movie set.
Eileen and I walked at the front, moving cautiously. She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath:"I really don't get why you Asian agents love flashlights so much. It's like a ghost-hunting show in here."
"Because the audience demands it," I joked. "Didn't you notice? Turn the lights on, and the ratings drop."
She was about to retort when her whole body froze, her expression as if she had seen a ghost.
Following her gaze, I saw under the dim yellow light ahead—a figure I knew all too well.
—Mark.
He stood there calmly, wearing his old trench coat, hands in his pockets, his expression indifferent, like we were casually meeting at a bar.
The air instantly turned icy. I could almost hear my teeth chattering.
"…Impossible," I croaked, my voice rasping as if sandpaper had scraped my throat.
Mark looked at me, a familiar, painful-to-see smile curling his lips."Hey, buddy. We met once in a dream—remember me?"
Eileen whipped out her gun, eyes flashing with lethal intent."Who is he?"
I raised a hand to stop her."Don't shoot! He's—" My voice caught, my throat tight. "My… friend."
"A dead man counts as a friend?" she sneered.
"Come on, don't discriminate against dead friends. It's common in our line of work," I forced a laugh, my brain racing: this shouldn't be possible. He should have died in that mission, his body completely consumed by the nightmare.
Yet here he was, alive, even blinking at me.
Mark shrugged."I guess you have a lot of questions. Truth is, I can't explain everything either. Just know—death isn't the end."
"Sounds like an insurance ad," I snorted. "Death isn't the end… but payments might start immediately."
Eileen clearly wasn't in the mood for jokes; her gun remained trained on him."What are you exactly? A nightmare? A clone? Some leftover experiment?"
Mark raised his hands in mock surrender."Europeans and your enthusiasm… you really remind me of old times. Don't worry, I'm not an experiment, nor a hallucination. I am just me."
He stepped forward, his footsteps echoing in the tunnel. I could feel Eileen's finger pressing against the trigger.
I had to speak up:"Wait! Let me talk to him."
Eileen glared at him."You better give me a reason not to kill you in one minute."
Mark's gaze fell on me, suddenly heavy and grave."Remember what I said in the dream? Don't trust a single ally. Including me."
My heart sank, gripped as if by icy hands.
—Why was he repeating this in real life?
The tunnel lights flickered, his figure twisting in the shadows, as if ready to vanish at any moment.
I stammered, voice trembling:"Mark… what exactly do you want me to see?"
He just smiled, as if he hadn't heard me.Then, in the next instant, the tunnel lights went out with a sharp click, plunging us into complete darkness.
When the lights flickered back on, Mark was gone.
Only one message echoed in the void:"Keep digging."