Heir of Eternity

A Face from the Past

Ethan’s heart hammered against his ribs. By reflex, he looked up. The man beside the black sedan was still standing in the same spot. Their gazes met for a few seconds before the man got into the car and drove away calmly, as if nothing had happened.

Ethan kept watching the street, which was beginning to bustle with activity. Once the car disappeared around the corner, he pressed the call button for that sender’s number.

The call was disconnected instantly.

He tried once more. The result was the same.

"The number is unavailable."

The automated voice made the knot of anxiety in his chest tighten further.

"What are you doing?"

A voice from behind made Ethan nearly drop his phone. He turned quickly. Professor Harrison was standing there, carrying several folders. "You look quite pale."

"It's nothing, Prof," Ethan answered softly.

The professor looked at him suspiciously but didn't press further. He just gave Ethan’s shoulder a brief pat before walking toward the administration building.

Ethan tucked his phone away.

What if I just don't go? Isn't that the most logical choice?

He didn't know the old man, he didn't know who the men in black were, and all this chaos wasn't his business. If he ignored it, his life might return to normal.

The thought was soothing, at least until his classes ended at four o'clock.

Throughout the bus ride home, crowded with office workers, he tried to read his lecture notes. However, not a single page sank into his brain. When he finally arrived at Moonlight Café, the atmosphere was much rowdier than usual. The scent of strong coffee filled the room.

"Thank goodness you're here," Megan, his coworker, approached with an empty tray. "We're one person short today."

"I’ll go change first."

"Please take over the front area after that."

Ethan nodded. The busyness of the next few hours distracted his mind slightly. He took orders, delivered drinks, and helped in the kitchen when the queue grew long.

The clock on the wall slowly neared six. Without realizing it, Ethan glanced at his watch.

18:02.

The time written in the mysterious letter. By now, he should have been standing at the East Gate of St. Aldren Cemetery. Instead, he was trapped behind the cash register. Strangely, instead of feeling relieved, a nagging sensation grew stronger, as if he had just missed something vital.

"Ethan," Megan called out. "Table nine."

Ethan picked up two cups of coffee and walked toward the new customer. Sitting there was a man in his fifties wearing a brown coat and an old fedora hat. The man didn't look at the menu, nor did he touch the coffee Ethan had just set down.

As Ethan turned to walk away, the man spoke.

"You didn't come."

Ethan stopped walking. "What?"

"To the cemetery," the man continued without taking his eyes off the window.

Ethan’s blood felt like it had frozen. "You have the wrong person."

The man smiled thinly. "No."

Slowly, he took something out of his coat pocket. Not a weapon, nor a phone. It was an old, yellowing photograph. He slid it to the edge of the table.

"There are only two copies of this photo," the man’s voice remained calm. "One is with you. And the other... is with me."

Ethan looked down. His breath hitched. The photo showed a young man and woman smiling while holding a three-year-old boy. That little boy... was him.

But what made Ethan’s body rigid wasn't the photo; it was the faces of the two people holding him. He had seen those faces before. In his dreams. Over and over. For years.

Ethan didn't pick up the photo immediately. His gaze was locked on the pair of faces that had haunted him in his dreams—dreams that always ended the same way.

All this time, Ethan had dismissed them as mere nightmares. Now, those same faces were lying there, real, before him.

"Who are you?" Ethan asked quietly.

The man sipped his coffee slightly, then set it back on the saucer. "A more pertinent question is: who are they?"

Ethan stared at him intensely. "If you know something, just say it."

The man shook his head. "If only it were that easy."

"What do you mean?"

"If I answered all your questions right now, it is highly likely you wouldn't make it home tonight."

The sentence was spoken so calmly that it sent shivers down Ethan’s spine. He glanced briefly toward the cash register; Megan was busy serving another customer. No one noticed their conversation.

"You sent the message to my phone?"

"No."

"The letter to the cemetery?"

"Not that, either."

"Then how did you know I didn't come?"

The man smiled faintly. "I only guessed."

Ethan didn't believe him. That guess was too accurate. He felt the man across from him was deliberately choosing his words to leave him even more confused. "Then why meet me?"

The man didn't answer. Instead, he looked toward the café window. Night had fully descended; the reflection of streetlamps shimmered on the glass, which was wet from the lingering rain. On the sidewalk, people passed by, some carrying umbrellas, others jogging to avoid the drizzle that had begun to fall again.

After a long pause, the man whispered softly, "Because someone has started moving faster than they should."

"I don't understand."

"It's not time for you to understand yet."

Ethan clenched his fists beneath his apron. "I'm tired of hearing that sentence."

The man looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded slowly, as if understanding Ethan’s outburst of frustration.

"Alright. In that case, I will tell you one thing."

He picked up the photo and pointed to the young man holding little Ethan. "He is not the person who abandoned you."

Ethan’s heart pounded. "In fact..."

The man stopped mid-sentence. His expression suddenly changed. He was no longer looking at Ethan, but at something behind the young man's shoulder.

"Ethan," his voice was suddenly low and cold. "Don't turn around."

Ethan’s body tensed. "What's wrong?"

"Count to three."

"What?"

"One..."

The café remained busy. The coffee machine hissed, customers were still chatting. Nothing appeared unusual.

"Two..."

The man slowly stood up from his chair. His expression remained calm, but his eyes were locked on the café entrance.

"Three."

By reflex, Ethan turned.

The café door opened. A man in a gray suit walked in with a casual stride. His appearance was immaculate; his hair was slicked back, his face was clean-shaven, and a thin smile graced his lips. He looked like an office worker heading home after a long day.

However, Ethan immediately recognized the man.

He had seen him before. That was the man who had been driving the black sedan in front of the campus earlier that morning.

The man in the gray suit stood by the door for a moment, scanning the room with a flat gaze. Then, his eyes stopped directly on Ethan. His thin smile slowly faded.

In a low voice audible only to the man in the fedora across from Ethan, he said, "I finally found you."