John walked back to the hotel at an unhurried pace.
The streets were beginning to empty as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon. A soft orange glow settled over the buildings, and the sound of the harbor grew quieter with each passing minute.
Everything felt… ordinary.
And yet, the uneasiness had not left him.
When he reached his room, the first thing he noticed was the silence.
Not the usual quiet of an empty space…
But something deeper.
As if the room itself had been waiting.
John stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
For a moment he stood still, listening.
Nothing.
Just the faint sound of the wind outside.
He exhaled slowly and placed his bag on the table.
The metallic disk was still where he had left it earlier.
Exactly in the same position.
He approached it, almost instinctively.
For a brief second, he hesitated before touching it—though he couldn't explain why.
Then he picked it up.
Cold.
Heavier than it should be.
John turned toward the balcony doors and stepped outside.
The sky was now fading into deep blue. The first lights of the harbor had begun to flicker on.
The sea looked calm.
Too calm.
He stood there for a while, watching the distant horizon, trying to clear his thoughts.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing moving.
Eventually, he returned inside and closed the glass door behind him.
That's when he noticed it.
The laptop.
The screen was on.
John stopped mid-step.
He was certain he had closed it before leaving.
Slowly, he walked closer.
A single window was open.
Black background.
White text.
There was no browser window. No program was visible.
Only one line was written in the middle of the screen:
"You shouldn't be here."
John's heart raced.
He stared at the message, trying to process what he was seeing.
"Is this... a joke?"
He glanced around the room involuntarily.
Empty.
Not a soul in sight.
He reached for the keyboard.
The moment his finger touched it—
The screen went black.
Completely.
John froze.
A second passed.
Then another.
Nothing.
He slowly shut down the laptop.
John felt the room different now.
Smaller.
Heavier.
John ran a hand through his hair and let out a quiet exhalation.
"Nothing," he whispered.
"Maybe something's wrong..."
But even as he said that, he didn't believe it.
Or perhaps I should check with reception at the hotel.
A sudden sound broke the silence.
A faint metallic click.
John turned slowly.
The disc.
But now...
A thin line of light had appeared along its surface
Faint.
Almost imperceptible.
As if something inside it had just… awakened.
John stared at it, unable to move.
Then, just as suddenly as it appeared—
the light disappeared.
Everything returned to normal.
Silence filled the room again.
John placed the disk back on the table, this time more carefully than before.
He walked toward the bed and sat down slowly.
Outside, night had fully fallen over the island.
The sea was no longer visible—only darkness stretching beyond the faint lights of the harbor.
John looked toward the balcony once more.
The old man's words echoed quietly in his mind:
Watch the sea tonight.
John swallowed slowly.
For the first time since arriving on the island…
he wasn't sure if he wanted to.
John remained seated on the edge of the bed for a long moment.
The silence in the room pressed in on him.
The message on the screen… the brief light from the disk…
None of it made sense.
He looked again toward the table.
Everything now appeared normal.
Too normal.
John stood up abruptly.
"No," he murmured. "This isn't normal."
He grabbed his room key and stepped out into the hallway.
The corridor was empty.
Soft yellow lights lined the walls, casting long shadows across the carpet. Somewhere in the distance, a door closed quietly.
John walked toward the staircase, his steps steady but quick.
A few moments later, he reached the lobby.
The same receptionist was there, sitting behind the desk, flipping through a small notebook.
She looked up as he approached.
"Everything alright, sir?"
John hesitated for a brief second, trying to choose his words carefully.
"Yes… I just had a quick question."
"Of course."
He leaned slightly closer to the desk.
"Has anyone entered my room while I was out?"
The woman frowned, clearly confused.
"No, sir. We don't enter guest rooms without permission."
"You're sure?" John asked.
"Absolutely."
John nodded slowly.
"Alright… maybe it's nothing."
He turned slightly, then paused.
"And… one more thing."
She waited.
"Earlier, at the café… I spoke to an older man. Gray hair, calm voice… he seemed like a local."
The receptionist's expression changed—subtly, but enough for John to notice.
"There are many older men like that here," she said lightly.
John studied her face.
"This one told me to 'watch the sea tonight.'"
A brief silence followed.
The woman lowered her gaze for a moment, then looked back at him.
"This is a small island," she said calmly.
"People say many things."
Her tone was neutral… but something in it felt rehearsed.
John didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he glanced toward the entrance of the hotel.
The street outside was quiet.
He turned back to her.
"Has anyone else asked about the Thalassar ruins recently?"
This time, the pause was longer.
"Not that I recall," she said.
But her eyes shifted—just slightly—toward a small drawer beneath the desk.
It was a small movement.
Almost unnoticeable.
But John caught it.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.John walked toward the door, then stopped just before stepping outside.
Something made him turn back.
The receptionist was no longer looking at him.
Instead, she had opened the drawer and taken out a small device—no larger than a phone.
She spoke into it softly, her voice barely audible:
"He's asking questions."
A faint voice came from the device, too low for John to understand.
She listened for a moment… then responded:
"Yes."
A pause.
"I think he has it."
John's breath slowed.
He stepped back silently, staying just out of sight.
The receptionist closed the drawer calmly and returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.
John stood there in the dim hallway, his mind racing.
This was no longer just about a dream.
Or a coincidence.
Someone knew.
Someone was watching.
And somehow…
they knew about the disk
He nodded slowly.
"Thank you."
"Of course," she replied with a polite smile.
John walked toward the door, then stopped just before stepping outside.
Something made him turn back.
The receptionist was no longer looking at him.
Instead, she had opened the drawer and taken out a small device—no larger than a phone.
She spoke into it softly, her voice barely audible:
"He's asking questions."
A faint voice came from the device, too low for John to understand.
She listened for a moment… then responded:
"Yes."
A pause.
"I think he has it."
John's breath slowed.
He stepped back silently, staying just out of sight.
The receptionist closed the drawer calmly and returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.
John stood there in the dim hallway, his mind racing.
This was no longer just about a dream.
Or a coincidence.
Someone knew.
Someone was watching.
And somehow…
they knew about the disk
John's mind became filled with questions.
for which he could find no answer or logical explanation.
" If you liked the chapter, leave a comment ❤️"