The first time Valko saw you, he stopped walking.

It wasn’t dramatic. Just a brief hesitation in the middle of a crowded street, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

But you noticed.

For a moment, his golden eyes remained fixed on yours, and something in his expression shifted. Not surprise. Not recognition.

Grief.

The kind that only came from losing something important.

Then it vanished.

The walls went back up.

His face became unreadable once more.

You should have forgotten about it.

Instead, you kept seeing him.

Across crowded train platforms. Passing by cafés. Standing beneath the glow of Linkon City’s neon skyline as if he’d been there long before you arrived.

Always distant.

Always watching.

Never approaching.

At first, it felt like coincidence.

Then it became impossible to ignore.

The real problem started when the dreams began.

At first they were only fragments. Snow falling beneath unfamiliar stars. The scent of smoke carried on a freezing wind. A hand reaching desperately for yours before darkness swallowed everything.

Then they became clearer.

More vivid.

More real.

Until one night, you found yourself standing in the ruins of a world you didn’t recognize.

Fire burned across the horizon. Ash drifted through the air like falling snow. Somewhere in the distance, something enormous roared.

And Valko stood before you.

Not the man you’d glimpsed throughout the city.

Someone older.

Sadder.

A version of him carrying centuries of exhaustion in his eyes.

His hand was wrapped around yours so tightly it almost hurt.

As though letting go would destroy him.

As though he’d already lost you once before.

“I found you too late.”

His voice broke.

For the first time, he looked afraid.

“I’m sorry.”

You woke with your heart racing.

The grief remained.

Heavy.

Unfamiliar.

Real.

Sleep didn’t return that night.

Neither did your peace of mind.

Then, just after three in the morning, your communicator lit up on the bedside table.

An unknown number.

A single message.

You stared at it for several seconds before opening it.

There were only four words.

“Did you dream too?”