Elias sat motionless on the edge of the motel bed, the note clutched tightly in his hands. The Hollow Man's words rattled inside his skull, each syllable pressing against the fragile structure of his mind. "Remember who you were before they erased you."
But who had he been? What pieces of himself had been stripped away, rewritten, or buried beneath fabricated memories? The rain outside pattered against the window, a rhythmic tapping that felt almost intentional, like a message waiting to be deciphered.
A sudden burst of static filled the room. Elias's breath hitched. The motel's ancient television flickered to life, its screen warping and distorting as if caught between frequencies. At first, it was nothing but noise—a haze of black and white interference. But then, an image began to form.
It was a surveillance feed.
Elias recognized the location immediately. A dimly lit corridor, lined with numbered doors—one of them slightly ajar. A shadow moved within the frame, shifting unnaturally. And then, a face. Or rather, the lack of one. The Hollow Man.
Elias's stomach twisted. Was this live? Was he being watched in real-time?
The screen flickered again, cutting to a different feed. A woman stood in the center of an empty train station, her face obscured by the distortion. But her voice—her voice cut through the interference with perfect clarity.
"Elias," she whispered. "Find me."
Then the screen went black.
Elias shot to his feet, heart pounding. The woman—he knew her. Somewhere, in a life he no longer remembered, she had meant everything to him.
He grabbed his coat, shoving the note into his pocket. Whatever truth lay ahead, he would find it. He had to. Because now, the question wasn't just about The Heart.
It was about who he used to be before it was stolen from him.
And why they had been so desperate to make him forget.