The street outside was ordinary, full of people going about their business, but my attention was elsewhere.

  Paperwork lay scattered across the table, reports half-read, photos turned face down as if that alone could make them stop existing. Tatsuya stood near the window, arms crossed, eyes unfocused, thinking three steps ahead like he always did. I sat across from him, elbows on my knees, staring at nothing.

  No Doom stirring.

  No pressure.

  No pull.

  That absence gnawed at me.

  “This isn’t over,” Tatsuya said finally, breaking the silence. “People like him don’t stop after one message.”

  “I know.”

  The ceiling. The words written there in blood. The deliberate angle, the effort it took. That hadn’t been rage. That had been patience.

  A knock came at the door. Sharp. Professional.

  An officer stepped in, tablet in hand. “We just got something strange. Not sure it’s related, but…”

  He hesitated, eyes flicking to me. Everyone did that now.

  “…it’s your call.”

  The tablet was handed to Tatsuya. He skimmed it once. Then again, slower.

  I watched his expression change. Not fear. Not shock.

  Recognition.

  “Location?” he asked.

  “Commercial district. Akari’s old place.” Tatsuya replied quietly. “She left about a month ago. Nothing should still be there.”

  My stomach tightened.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “That place was… recently used?” I asked. “No reason for anyone to be here.”

  “That’s exactly why,” Tatsuya said. “This isn’t just bait. It’s personal.”

  The address sat there, plain and unassuming. But my chest felt tight the moment I read it. I didn’t need to think long to remember why it mattered.

  “That’s where…” I stopped myself.

  “Where Akari stayed before she came to your world,” Tatsuya finished. “A place with memory.”

  Memory.

  That word felt heavy.

  The report itself was light. No bodies. No confirmed injuries. Just a single anonymous call claiming “something was wrong” and then nothing else.

  Too clean.

  “This is bait,” I said.

  “Yes,” Tatsuya agreed. “But not for the reason you think.”

  He tapped the screen, pulling up timestamps, cross-referencing them with other recent incidents. Minor ones. A vandalized shrine. A fire alarm pulled in an empty building. A hospital wing evacuated for a threat that never materialized.

  None of them lethal.

  All of them meaningless on their own.

  Together, they formed a line.

  “He’s mapping your reactions,” Tatsuya said. “How fast you move. Where you hesitate. What you prioritize.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  “So what’s the test?” I asked.

  Tatsuya met my eyes. “Whether you rush in like a weapon… or wait like a human.”

  Silence fell again.

  I could already feel it, that itch under my skin. The instinct to move. To end it before it began. Doom stayed quiet, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t listening.

  If I went now and it was a trap, I’d be exactly what he wanted me to be.

  If I didn’t go and something happened…

  I stood.

  “We don’t split up,” I said. “You stay back, monitor everything. I approach slow. No Doom unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Tatsuya frowned. “That’s not restraint. That’s compromise.”

  “Then it’s the best I’ve got.”

  He didn’t argue further. That worried me more than if he had.

  The street was quiet enough to be deceptive. Pedestrians passed by unaware. Shops closed for the evening. Only a faint hum of normal life surrounded the building. Akari’s old place sat unassuming, but I knew better.

  Every step forward made my instincts scream.

  Not danger.

  Expectation.

  Someone was watching.

  I stopped just short of the entrance.

  That was when I saw it.

  A small envelope, wedged carefully between the door frame. Clean. Untouched by dust. Placed there recently.

  I didn’t need to open it to know it was for me.

  Inside was a single card.

  No blood this time. Just ink.

  You came.

  Good.

  That means the game can continue.

  My fingers tightened around the card.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed movement. Not close. Far away. A shape retreating into shadow, unhurried, confident I wouldn’t chase.

  I didn’t.

  For the first time since everything had fallen apart, I stayed still.

  Somewhere deep inside, something laughed softly.

  Not out loud.

  Not yet.