"
The door shut behind the strange man — or whatever he was — and with it, silence returned.
Faro remained standing in the shadows, alone… or so it seemed.
Something lingered. Not a trace, not warmth, but a shift in the room's breath.
He slowly walked toward the wall the man had leaned on.
His fingers brushed its surface. It felt the same — but he didn't.
A whisper formed deep inside him. Not a sound, but a pressure of awareness.
"What are you? And what do you seek within this human shell?"
He staggered back. His breathing quickened.
Something inside him was peeling away — not pain, but exposure.
His body felt lighter. Not the lightness of freedom, but that of one who's been stripped of certainty.
He sat down. Not from exhaustion, but to anchor himself.
He stayed still for a long while.
Staring into the dark — until the dark stared back.
Circles. Lines. Patterns not meant for human sight.
**
A sudden creak from the door broke the trance.
An old man with a calm gaze and graying beard stood at the entrance.
"Don't worry. I wasn't watching the whole time."
He smiled faintly.
"But something happened here. That can't be ignored."
"Did you hear something? See something? Fracture... within?"
Faro said nothing. He only nodded, slowly.
"That's enough. Come."
"You'll need cleaner air to understand what you are."
Thus began Faro's first real journey — not into the world,
but into himself.