The Next Day…
The lamp flickers above the hostel reception, casting jagged shadows on the peeling walls. The receptionist dozes behind the counter, head resting on his arm, a burnt-out cigarette dangling from his lips. Dave, leaning against a column, drums his fingers on the hilt of his sword as his eyes wander across the room.
It's ten o'clock at night, and Heinz still hasn't shown up.
"Will he come or not?" he mutters under his breath. He shouldn't care. He barely knows the guy. Just a few hours of cryptic conversation and interdimensional theories—hardly enough to build trust. But… there's something about Heinz that piques his interest. Maybe it's that cautious gaze, or the calm way he talks about dimensions as if they were adjacent rooms.
Something about him feels oddly familiar, though Dave can't quite place it. It's not just the way he moves, or the confidence in his voice. It's something else—something that makes Dave question his own instincts.
Suddenly, the hostel door swings open, letting in a gust of cold air. Heinz steps through the threshold, tall and slender, cutting through the mist outside. He walks toward him with his usual elegant gait.
"Punctual, as promised," he says with a faint smile.
"Five minutes late," Dave corrects, feigning seriousness.
"An eternity for someone with your patience, I suppose."
Dave lets out a short laugh and pushes open the door to leave.
"Let's go. I need air."
They step out into the street. The pavement gleams under the headlights, and the fog renders the building silhouettes into hazy phantoms. They walk in silence for a few minutes before Dave breaks it.
"So… what happened to my other self?"
Heinz comes to an abrupt stop. His fingers tighten around his watch, though his expression remains unreadable.
"The Dave from here?" he asks without looking at him.
"Yeah. Where is he?"
The sound of their footsteps resumes as Heinz begins to walk again.
"He vanished some time ago. No one's seen him since."
Dave raises an eyebrow.
"And he didn't leave a trace? A note… anything?"
"Nothing. He just… vanished."
The wind tousles Heinz's dark hair, and Dave notices the tension in his jaw. Something tells him this isn't just someone else's story. There's something personal in Heinz's response—in the way he presses his lips together, in how he avoids meeting his gaze.
"Are you worried he might come back?"
"Not exactly." Heinz lowers his eyes to the ground. "But his absence has left a void that others are eager to fill."
Dave nods, though a gnawing unease tightens in his chest. He doesn't like the feeling of walking in another man's shadow—someone who seems to have been everything he's not… or maybe everything he could one day become.
"And what do you notice that's different between him and me?" Dave smirks, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides the fact that I'm infinitely more charming, of course."
Heinz lets out a dry chuckle.
"Let's just say… he wasn't like you."
"Oh no?"
"The Dave from here was moody, rebellious, stubborn. He didn't let anyone help him, didn't listen to a soul."
Dave narrows his eyes, intrigued.
"And were you two friends?"
"No," Heinz replies flatly. "We weren't."
Something in that "no" echoes strangely in Dave's chest.
His instincts scream there's more to this story, something Heinz isn't saying. Why would his other self disappear without a trace? Why does Heinz seem to care so much?
"Well… I guess I lucked out with you, didn't I?" Dave jokes, though a question gnaws at the back of his mind: what the hell happened between Heinz and the other Dave?
And more unsettling still… what if he ended up becoming just like him?