Arthur continued looking at the photograph.
E-17.
There was nothing else beneath the code.
No name.
No file number.
No date.
Just those four characters.
Arthur zoomed in on the photograph.
The child’s face had been crossed out.
But the mark wasn’t random.
The entire face had been covered with black ink.
Arthur moved his finger closer to the screen.
Then stopped.
He studied the texture.
The edges.
The pressure of the strokes.
The difference between the ink and the photograph itself.
His eyes narrowed.
The photograph was old.
The black ink wasn’t.
Someone had altered the image recently.
Someone had specifically removed this child’s face.
Arthur placed the phone on the table.
Why?
If the goal was to hide E-17 from him, showing the photograph at all made no sense.
Unless the person who sent it wanted Arthur to know that something had been hidden.
That changed everything.
The photograph wasn’t evidence.
It was bait.
The next morning, nobody at the university knew E-17.
Arthur asked three different people.
He used three different methods.
The first received a direct question.
The second received an indirect story.
The third was given a false name and asked whether they had ever heard it before.
None of them reacted.
Nothing.
No hesitation.
No recognition.
No curiosity.
That was good.
It was also bad.
Because that was exactly what Arthur had expected.
Nothing.
When investigating a secret, sometimes the most dangerous answer was no answer at all.
During lunch break, Sean approached him.
“Can I talk to you?”
Arthur looked up.
“Of course.”
Sean sat down.
“You’ve been acting strange lately.”
Arthur smiled.
“I’ve always been strange.”
“No.”
Sean leaned closer.
“This is different.”
Arthur remained silent.
Sean pulled out his phone.
“Someone sent me this.”
A photograph appeared on the screen.
Arthur.
The previous day.
Standing outside the university.
Beneath it was a single sentence.
Tell us everything you know about Arthur.
Arthur looked at the photograph.
“What did you reply?”
Sean looked away.
“Nothing.”
Arthur watched him for several seconds.
“That’s a lie.”
Sean looked back at him.
“What?”
“You’ve been moving your right thumb ever since you locked your phone.”
Sean glanced down.
Arthur continued.
“You do that when you’re stressed.”
Sean swallowed.
Arthur reached for the phone.
“You said something.”
Sean remained silent.
Finally, he looked up.
“Just some things.”
“Like what?”
“Your past.”
Arthur’s expression didn’t change.
“How much?”
“Not much.”
“Sean.”
Sean hesitated.
Then whispered—
“Area 19.”
For a fraction of a second, Arthur’s mind went completely still.
It was barely noticeable.
But Sean noticed.
“So it’s real.”
Arthur stood.
Sean tensed.
“Arthur…”
“Who told you?”
Sean didn’t answer.
Arthur placed the phone back on the table.
“Who?”
Sean’s expression changed.
Then…
he smiled.
Arthur hadn’t expected that.
“No one.”
Sean’s phone vibrated.
A new message appeared on the screen.
Well played.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
The message hadn’t been sent to Sean.
His own phone was vibrating.
He looked down.
The exact same message was displayed there.
Well played.
Arthur slowly put his phone away.
Sean’s face had gone pale.
Arthur looked at him.
“You’re part of the game now.”
“What?”
Arthur stood.
“But I don’t think you’re the player.”
Sean stared at him.
Arthur walked away.
He stopped at the end of the hallway.
Outside the window, a figure stood on the roof of the building across from him.
Black coat.
Hood.
Motionless.
Arthur narrowed his eyes.
The figure moved.
Then disappeared.
Arthur didn’t run.
He didn’t chase.
Because that was exactly what it wanted.
Instead, he memorized the position.
The distance.
The angle.
The possible exits.
Then he turned away.
If you want me to follow you…
I won’t.
Nothing happened until evening.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
22:00.
An address followed.
An old warehouse.
Approximately forty minutes from campus.
Then another message.
Come alone.
Arthur locked the phone.
It was 21:43.
He stood.
22:01
Arthur entered the warehouse.
It was empty.
At least, it looked empty.
Concrete floor.
Dark corridors.
Old metal shelves.
Dust.
The faint smell of rust.
Arthur took several steps forward.
The lights turned on.
One by one.
Then the final light illuminated a large screen on the wall.
It activated.
Alice appeared.
Arthur stopped.
The video began.
Alice leaving the university.
Alice walking home.
Alice returning the next morning.
Entering the café.
Leaving it.
Standing outside the dormitory.
The footage continued.
Days of footage.
Different angles.
Different locations.
Different distances.
Arthur watched without moving.
Then the screen changed.
A photograph.
Arthur sitting with Alice.
Holding her hand.
Another.
Arthur looking at her.
Another.
Arthur standing between her and a group of students.
Another.
Arthur protecting her.
Then the final image appeared.
Arthur looking directly toward the camera.
He hadn’t known anyone was watching.
The screen went black.
Two words appeared.
YOUR WEAKNESS.
Arthur stared at them.
Then laughed.
“Wrong.”
The screen changed.
IS IT?
Another image appeared.
Arthur as a child.
Inside Area 19.
E-18 beside him.
Then another image.
An empty room.
A child’s bed.
A number printed on the frame.
A-1.
Arthur’s smile disappeared.
A sentence appeared.
Tell me, Arthur.
Another line followed.
Do you really remember who you are?
Arthur stepped closer.
“You’re not E-17.”
Silence.
“You’re not Area 19.”
Silence.
“And you’re not Elera.”
The screen went completely dark.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then a single word appeared.
No.
Arthur waited.
Another word appeared.
I…
The screen went dark again.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
Then every light in the warehouse shut off.
Silence.
A footstep.
Arthur turned.
Another.
Closer.
He moved immediately.
The first punch came out of the darkness.
Arthur shifted aside.
The second followed.
He blocked it.
Then closed the distance.
Elbow.
Knee.
Low kick.
The man avoided all three.
Arthur stopped.
The man wasn’t fighting normally.
He was reading him.
Arthur attacked again.
A feint.
Then a strike toward the ribs.
The man moved before the attack fully developed.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
He’s anticipating.
The man countered.
Arthur ducked.
The punch passed over his head.
Arthur reached for his arm.
Caught it.
Twisted.
The man slipped free.
Two steps backward.
They stared at each other.
For the first time, Arthur stopped thinking about winning.
He started thinking about recognition.
The man’s posture.
His breathing.
The way he positioned his feet.
There was something familiar about it.
Something he hadn’t consciously remembered.
Arthur blocked.
Their arms collided.
The man stepped back.
Then slowly removed his mask.
Arthur froze.
The face was familiar.
Not because Arthur recognized the man.
Because he recognized the absence.
He had seen this face before.
In records.
In photographs.
In a file that had been marked—
DECEASED.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“You…”
The man smiled faintly.
“You’re late.”
Arthur didn’t move.
“You’re dead.”
The man’s smile disappeared.
“According to the records.”
Arthur stared at him.
“Who are you?”
The man took a step backward.
“That’s the wrong question.”
“What is the right one?”
The man looked directly into Arthur’s eyes.
“Why do you remember me as dead?”
Silence.
Arthur’s thoughts accelerated.
E-17.
The photograph.
The altered face.
The Area 19 records.
Sean.
Alice.
Yara.
Frank.
Ethan.
Everything seemed to connect.
Then Arthur noticed something.
A gap.
One missing piece.
He tried to fill it.
And the answer made no sense.
Because if it was true…
then some of the people he had encountered in recent weeks hadn’t simply been pieces in his game.
They had been pieces in someone else’s.
Arthur’s eyes widened.
“No.”
The man smiled.
“You finally noticed.”
Arthur took a step forward.
“Who is using them?”
The man didn’t answer.
“Who is controlling this?”
Still nothing.
Arthur’s voice hardened.
“Who?”
The man looked at him.
Then said:
“You.”
Arthur froze.
“What?”
The man tilted his head.
“You think you’re using people.”
A pause.
“Manipulating them.”
Another pause.
“Pulling them into your games.”
He stepped closer.
“What if all of this…”
His eyes remained fixed on Arthur.
“…was placed in front of you so you could understand how people behave?”
Arthur’s breathing changed.
The man continued.
“Frank.”
“Sean.”
“Yara.”
“Ethan.”
“Alice.”
Arthur’s expression finally broke.
“They weren’t all my pieces.”
The man smiled.
“No.”
A beat.
“You were one of theirs.”
The lights came back on.
The man was gone.
Arthur turned.
Nothing.
Only an envelope remained on the floor.
He walked toward it.
Bent down.
Picked it up.
A single word was written across the front.
A-1.
Arthur opened it.
A photograph fell into his hand.
He looked at it.
E-18 was there.
Arthur was there.
Two children.
Standing together.
But between them…
stood another child.
A child Arthur had never seen before.
Or at least…
never remembered seeing.
He turned the photograph over.
There were words on the back.
When you remember, you’ll also remember why we left you behind.
Arthur’s fingers tightened around the photograph.
He read it again.
Then again.
For the first time…
he wasn’t afraid of what someone might do to him.
He was afraid of what he might discover about himself.
Arthur looked at the photograph.
Three children.
Three designations.
One missing memory.
And somewhere inside his mind…
there was a door he had never known existed.
He stared into the darkness of the warehouse.
Then whispered:
“E-17…”
His voice was almost inaudible.
“Who were you?”
No answer came.
Only the distant sound of footsteps fading somewhere beyond the walls.
And for Arthur…
that silence was worse than any answer.
For a long time, Arthur believed he was the one pulling the strings.
This chapter marks the moment where certainty begins to collapse.
Questions that seemed unrelated are finally starting to connect, but every answer reveals an even larger mystery hidden beneath it.
As always, thank you for reading and sharing your theories.
Some clues have been visible from the beginning, while others are still waiting to be discovered.
The truth behind Area 19 is closer than ever.