Chapter 97: The mysterious man
That night, Ceremus had another dream, but unlike the others he had seen, this was different.
It started off with him being alone but instead of being by a field in the outskirts of the city, by the coast, and in the desert, he looked to be in a village, remote yet flooded with people passing him by, but there was something wrong.
Their faces were missing.
No eyes. No mouths. Just smooth, empty skin.
When he tried to approach them, they all disregarded him and Ceremus surmised they couldn't see him.
Just as he gave up on seeking help, a strange sensation crept over him. A gaze.
Someone was watching him.
Ceremus turned. In a sea of faceless figures, one man had a face. The young man was short, dark-haired, and watching him with unsettling intensity, as if analyzing him. His eyes—felt inhuman —holding a strange, shifting glow, as if reflecting light that wasn't there.
The stranger said nothing. He only observed.
Ceremus stepped forward.
The man turned and walked away.