I was reviewing impossible futures.
Playing chess against broken versions of myself.
Midnight glitching, I called it.
My favorite hobby to avoid going any more insane than necessary.
And then it happened.
An envelope appeared out of nowhere.
---
It didn't fall from the sky.
It didn't come from a menu.
It just... was.
Suspended one meter above the ground.
A real paper envelope, sealed with black wax, with my name written on it.
> Ryouhei
(Yes, you. The one still breathing by mistake.)
No one in Eclipsia should know my name.
Much less write it.
I stepped closer.
Reality around it shimmered like a corrupted file.
I had to activate my ability just to keep the world stable long enough to open it.
Inside was a note, written in hurried, trembling ink:
> "If you can read this, you haven't been reformatted yet.
Good.
This world isn't what it seems.
Don't fight to escape. Fight to overwrite.
I was an extra too.
Now I'm something worse.
See you at the second eclipse.
—S."
---
No full name.
Just that letter.
S.
And on the back of the note, a hand-drawn coordinate.
A place within the Forest of Echoes.
A place that didn't exist on any system map.
---
That night, I didn't sleep.
Didn't train either.
I just stared at the empty envelope, still hovering where I left it, like it hadn't decided whether to open again or explode into a paradox.
And I knew my isolation was over.
Not because I had found someone.
But because someone had found me.