Episode 5

That Sender

The Unwritten Truth

Sana and Jake stood on the bridge, breathless, the echoes of what had just happened still settling in their bones.

The man they had saved sat on the ground, his hands trembling. He wasn’t speaking—just staring at them, like they were ghosts from his past.

Sana’s heart was pounding. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

The man looked up, his dark eyes filled with something between recognition and confusion.

"I… don’t know," he admitted.

Jake and Sana exchanged a glance.

"How did you end up here?" Jake asked, his voice steady but tense.

The man hesitated, rubbing his temple like he was trying to recall something just out of reach. "I was… looking for something. Or someone. And then I got a message."

Sana froze. "A message?"

The man nodded slowly. "Yeah. It just said… It’s happening again."

Sana’s stomach dropped. "You got the same message as me."

Jake’s eyes darkened. "Someone wanted us all here tonight."

The weight of those words hung in the air.

Pieces of a Forgotten Life

They took the man—who still couldn’t remember his name—somewhere safe. A quiet café that was open late, where they could sit and process what had just happened.

Sana pushed a cup of coffee toward him. "Try to remember anything. Even small details."

The man took a deep breath, his fingers wrapping around the warm mug. "I remember… a house. An old one. And I think I remember your faces. But it’s like I’m remembering a dream."

Sana felt a chill run down her spine.

Jake leaned forward. "What about the journal? Does that mean anything to you?"

The man’s eyes flickered with something—recognition, maybe even fear. "The journal. Yeah. I’ve seen it before."

Sana gripped the table. "Where?"

The man hesitated before answering. "In my dreams."

Jake exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Okay. That’s—" He stopped himself. "That’s not normal."

Sana turned to Jake. "What if he’s connected to us? What if he’s part of whatever this is?"

Jake nodded slowly. "That would explain why his name isn’t in the journal. Maybe he was never supposed to survive."

The words hung between them, heavy and unsettling.

And then, for the first time, the man spoke with certainty.

"I think I know where to go next."

Sana and Jake both stared at him.

"Where?" Sana asked.

The man looked up, his expression haunted.

"The house from my memory."

The House That Knew Them

It took an hour to get there. The house was deep in the city, hidden among old, abandoned buildings. It looked like it had been untouched for years—dark windows, a rusted gate, vines creeping up the walls.

Sana shivered. "We’re really doing this?"

Jake swallowed hard. "Yeah."

The man walked ahead of them, like his body already knew the way. He pushed open the creaky door, and a wave of dust and cold air met them.

Inside, everything was covered in sheets—old furniture, a fireplace, bookshelves lined with forgotten stories.

And then they saw it.

A desk.

With another journal sitting on top of it.

Sana’s pulse skyrocketed. "Oh my god."

Jake reached for it first. He flipped it open, scanning the first few pages. Then he looked up, his face pale.

"It’s about all three of us."

Sana grabbed it and read the first line aloud.

"We always come back here. And every time, we forget."