She stood alone in the park, the night pressing in on her from all sides. The sky was a velvet sea of stars, and the only sound was the wind whispering through the trees. It was cold—biting cold, the kind that made her skin tingle and sent a shiver through her body despite the thick coat she wore. Her dark hair blew across her face, strands sticking to her lips and cheeks, and she brushed them away absently.

It was a park she didn't recognize, an unfamiliar place that felt both dreamlike and ominous. The path before her stretched out endlessly, winding into shadowy corners, every step she took muffled beneath the layer of fallen leaves. She looked around, trying to find a way out. She didn't even know how she had gotten here, only that she needed to leave.

Her boots crunched softly underfoot as she moved forward, the silence of the night pressing down on her. It was as though the world had forgotten she was here, as if she were a ghost wandering through a place that didn't belong to her. She pulled her coat tighter around her, her breath visible in the cold air, her heart racing as though it could sense something she couldn't.

Then, she saw him.

A man sat on a bench beneath a dark canopy of trees, his figure nearly swallowed by the shadows. The black of his clothes matched the night, blending him seamlessly into the landscape. His posture was hunched, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed. She couldn't see his face clearly, but there was something about him—something that made her pause, her steps faltering as she approached.

The wind rustled the leaves, a soft whisper that seemed to guide her closer, and she obeyed it, unable to pull away. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the air itself was thickening, drawing her toward him. She couldn't explain it, but a strange, magnetic pull was urging her forward. There was an undeniable gravity to him.

When she was close enough, he looked up.

His eyes were dark—darker than the night itself—and red, as though he had been crying for hours. His face was pale, almost glowing under the dim light of the moon, and there were tears streaking down his cheeks. The sadness in his gaze was so raw, so palpable, that it made her chest tighten. She found herself staring at him, as if unable to look away.

His eyes… they seemed familiar. The way they shone with sorrow, the way they held something she couldn't name, tugged at something deep inside her. She felt a pang in her heart, a quiet ache that made her breath catch.

She subconsciously admired him—how even in his pain, he had a kind of quiet strength, a sorrow that demanded attention. His tears, though heartbreaking, made him feel... real, in a way she hadn't expected.

He spoke, his voice rough and broken, as if each word cost him something.

"Don't leave."

His words were so soft, so desperate, that they seemed to cut through the cold night air. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Why did she feel like she knew him? Like his pain was her pain? She couldn't explain it, but something in her urged her to stay, to comfort him.

"What?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if the air itself would swallow her words. She hadn't meant to sound so lost, so confused, but the shock was overwhelming.

"Please…" His voice cracked as he spoke again, the pain in his tone making it feel like the weight of the world was in each syllable. "Don't love him. He's not me."

Her mind raced, the words jumbled in her head. He wasn't making sense. She didn't know who he was, yet somehow, his words cut through her like a knife. She felt it in her chest—a heavy, aching feeling she couldn't understand.

"Who... who are you?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling, though she was still rooted to the spot.

He looked at her, his gaze intense, as if trying to convey something more than just his words. "Sejar," he said, his voice breaking again, and then there was a silence, heavy and thick, as though the name itself was a secret, a truth that only he knew.

Sejar.

The name echoed in her mind, like a whisper from the past, one she couldn't place but felt in her bones. It felt like something important, something fragile, as if it held the answer to a question she hadn't even asked yet.

For a moment, she simply stared at him, her heart racing. She felt like she knew him, like he had been a part of her life somehow, though her mind couldn't quite catch up with her heart. The longer she looked at him, the more his eyes seemed to burn into her, pleading with her, as though he was trying to tell her something without speaking.

But before she could say anything more, before she could ask the questions that now swirled in her mind like a storm, the world around her began to shift. The wind howled, louder this time, swirling around her and pulling her in every direction. The park began to fade, the shadows deepening, the edges of her vision blurring as if everything was slipping away.

Her chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat, and just as quickly as it had come, the scene before her dissolved, like a dream fading at the edge of her consciousness.

---

She woke with a start, gasping for breath as though she had been holding it for too long. The room around her was dark, the only light coming from the faint moonlight streaming through the curtains. She sat up, her body drenched in cold sweat, her heart still hammering in her chest.

Her hair was tangled from sleep, and she reached up, brushing it away, trying to ground herself in the reality of her room. Her eyes darted around the space, searching for something familiar, something that would tell her she was still here, still in the world she knew.

But Sejar's eyes... those tear-filled eyes lingered in her mind. They were still so vivid, so haunting. The ache in her chest hadn't gone away. She felt like something had been left behind in that park, something she didn't understand but couldn't forget.

It was just a dream, she told herself. A dream that felt too real, too consuming to be simply a product of her mind. But as the memory of his name echoed through her thoughts—Sejar—she couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him before. And more than that, she had felt him.

She glanced out the window, the stars still visible in the sky, their light far away yet strangely comforting. For the first time in a long while, she wondered if the dream held more than just a fleeting glimpse of another world. Maybe it was a sign. A message. A warning.

And as she lay back down, the stars above her shining faintly through the curtains, she couldn't help but feel that Sejar's story was only just beginning—and so was hers.

End of chapter 1.