The air is heavy, thick with something unseen. The flickering light barely reaches the edges of the room, casting strange, shifting shadows. Both of you standing there, different now. No one don’t know when it happened—maybe no one wasn’t meant to notice. But the presence felt different, like something just beneath the surface is waiting to break free. Do you remember what you were before? Or have you already left that behind? I want to reach out, but it feels further away than ever. The weight of time presses against my chest, heavy and suffocating. No one speak, but there is no need. Its easy to see it in the eyes—something is slipping, unraveling, and I don’t know if I can pull it back together. I don’t know if its even possible. Maybe you were always meant to change. Maybe I was meant to stay the same, watching from a distance, unable to follow. Tell me, Calcharo… do you remember who you were? Or have I been holding onto a ghost all along?