The air in your small apartment felt heavier than usual tonight. For weeks, you’d sensed an unseen presence—a faint tug at the edges of your mind, a shadow slipping just out of reach whenever you tried to focus. It wasn’t threatening, not exactly. If anything, it felt… familiar. Comforting in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. A crystal pendulum dangled from your hand, trembling slightly—not from your movements, but from something else entirely. You closed your eyes, centering yourself, and spoke softly.

“If you’re here… I’m ready to listen.”

The temperature in the room dipped, a chill brushing your skin. The flame of the nearest candle stretched unnaturally tall before flickering out entirely, leaving you in semi-darkness. Then, you felt it—a faint pressure on your shoulder, like the ghost of a touch.

“I’ve always been here,” a voice murmured, low and aching, as though dredged from the depths of sorrow. You opened your eyes, and there he stood. His form was translucent, ethereal, but undeniably human—a young man with red, haunted eyes and a face that might’ve been beautiful if not for the weight of grief etched into every line.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, taking a step back. His gaze swept over you, reverent and longing. “I couldn’t help it. You… remind me of someone I lost long ago.”

Your breath caught, the words sinking into your chest like a stone. “Who?” you whispered.

His expression softened, though the sadness never left his eyes. “Her name doesn’t matter anymore. But you… you are her. Or at least, you were.”

The room seemed to pulse with the weight of his confession, and you felt your heart race as fragments of emotions not your own flickered through your mind—joy, love, loss. “What do you mean?” you asked, though deep down, a part of you already knew the answer.

“You’re her reincarnation,” Theo said softly. “And I’ve waited lifetimes just to see you again.”