"Sometimes you don't need to see to know… It's enough to feel that the wall of reality has begun to breathe."
⸻
The next morning, the fog was heavier than usual.The air in the neighborhood was damp, as if someone had dipped the city in a bowl of cold water and then forgotten about it.
Luin was walking down Old Mill Street, the neighborhood closest to the graveyards and furthest from life.But he wasn't looking for anything in particular.
Or maybe he was looking for himself... in the cracks in the walls, or in the glances of passersby.
⸻
As he passed by a half-closed shop, he heard a rough voice calling him:
"Your face looks familiar... Are you the boy who fell on the ground on the rainy day?"
He turned around.
An old junk dealer, his eyes almost dead, his face crumpled as if time had passed him by too quickly.
Luin didn't answer.
The old man smiled and continued:
"I sell oblivion... want some? It tastes like memory."
⸻
Luin approached, half curious, half skeptical.
"How much does it cost?"
The old man replied, rubbing his hands together:
"The same price as regret... It's expensive if you ignore it."
⸻
Luin paused for a moment. Then he looked inside the shop.
In the corner, a small mirror, covered with gray cloth.
He reached out and lifted the cover.
Nothing strange. But...
His eyes did not see themselves.Instead, they saw... a wall.
A stone wall. The kind not found in this neighborhood.Beneath it, a faint pulse... as if a heart were hiding a language.
⸻
A faint voice reached his ear:
"The seal... remembers."
⸻
Luin gasped and closed his eyes.
He opened them... and saw only his own face again.
⸻
"Are you afraid of yourself?" said the old man as he sat down.
Luin replied:"I'm afraid of the part of it I don't know."
⸻
The old man smiled, then whispered:
"Be careful. There are places in the city... where the walls hold more secrets than the people."
⸻
That night, the air was filled with something like a calling.
It wasn't a sound, nor even a direct sensation... but rather a kind of internal tremor,as if something in Luin's chest was knocking from within, asking to come out... or to return.
⸻
His feet unconsciously led him to the edge of the old market,to a narrow alley he had never noticed before,squeezed between two adjacent buildings, as if the city had wanted to hide it from the beginning.
But he was right there... waiting.
⸻
At the entrance to the alley, a lone beggar sat, covered in a gray blanket,revealing only a crooked nose and one eye open like a wound.
"Here... don't come in unless you're bleeding," he said in a low voice.
Luin stopped, saying nothing.
The beggar raised his hand and pointed to Luin's forearm.
"That burn... it's not a burn, right?"
Luin didn't answer. But his mind screamed the word.
The Seal.
⸻
"This passageway... it listens," the beggar said as he slowly got up, then turned his face toward the wall.
"Everyone who bears a mark on their skin... is tested here."
⸻
Luin took a step.
The alley was narrower than it had appeared from the outside.Between its walls, the air was heavier — a metallic scent, like old blood pretending to be rust.
⸻
Each step made a faint echo...But Luin didn't just hear the echo of his own footsteps;he heard other whispers... familiar ones.
"Coward.""You didn't move then.""You were there... and you didn't do anything."
⸻
He stopped.
The wall on his right began to crack slowly...And from within it came a voice dripping with hatred:
"The first seal has been broken... and now, it is time for the first question."
⸻
A strange shadow fell before him, shapeless. Only a shadow... and hatred.
The voice said:
"Which is worse: to be tortured... or to watch and do nothing?"
⸻
Luin gasped.
The vision flipped.
He was in the basement... the children screaming, the man laughing, the knife dripping.
But now... he was not a spectator.He was the one holding the knife.
⸻
"No... this isn't me!" he shouted.
But the voice said:
"It is your shadow... the one you left behind, the one you didn't kill."
⸻
Luin pressed his forearm.
The seal... burned.
And from beneath his skin, a painful warmth emerged... like an old confession.
⸻
Suddenly... everything fell silent.
He found himself outside the alley, standing alone, the night still.
The beggar had disappeared.
But on the wall near him, a sentence was written in faded blood:
"The second seal is only opened upon betrayal."
⸻
Moments after Luin's departure...
At the entrance to the same alley, a man in a long white robe, dusty at the edges, stopped.A dark copper necklace hung from his neck, engraved with a symbol that was half cross, half closed eye.
Behind him stood two young men in simpler attire, looking around anxiously.
"The seal reacted here, without a doubt," said the old man, bending down and touching the ground with his fingertips.
He lifted them... The smell of ashes and psychological bleeding was unmistakable to their senses.
⸻
"We're late..." muttered one of the young men, "again."
But the old man did not respond.
Instead, he slowly turned his face toward the wall...and saw the words written in faded blood:
"The second seal is only opened upon betrayal."
⸻
He stared at it for a long time, then said in a low voice:
"The stage has begun," he said at last."Send the report. Don't approach him yet."
"Let him walk a little... until his true identity becomes clear."
⸻
End of Chapter Five