Noctis sat at his desk, arranging all the information he had gathered, only to find himself stuck against an invisible wall. No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t see the next step.
“Should I go to the terrace or not?”
“Or should I try to find another clue? But nothing comes to mind other than the terrace.”
His thoughts were scattered. He wasn’t even sure if he could trust the diary anymore.
Seeing that it was time for work, he left for the garden again.
Before heading to the main garden, he made one last stop at the grassless patch, shears in hand.
Again.
No one came.
He had already tried multiple times to meet Ilya there again after their first encounter. But she never showed up.
“Maybe it really was like those one-time events in a game,” Noctis murmured.
When he finally arrived at the main garden, he noticed Silas wasn’t there either.
“His head must hurt really badly then,” Noctis thought before beginning his work.
As he trimmed the overgrown bushes, several thoughts continued circling in his mind.
“What did the previous gardener see at the terrace that shattered his mentality?”
“That place distorts the mind? How? In what way?”
Questions kept piling up until he forced himself to focus on finishing his tasks.
Time: 6:45 PM
“It took longer than I expected,” Noctis muttered, wiping sweat from his face after completing his work.
After dinner, back in his room, he finally made up his mind.
He would visit the terrace tomorrow.
Morning came.
Noctis prepared to leave, but this time he decided to leave the revolver behind. If the terrace truly drove a person insane, he didn’t want to risk becoming someone firing blindly at illusions.
He still didn’t understand why he was supposed to take a flower pot to the terrace, but he chose to follow the pattern anyway.
He made his way to the third floor and began climbing the stairs that led upward.
When he reached the terrace door, he paused.
He took a deep breath.
Then turned the handle.
The door opened easily.
Noctis stepped out.
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“This place… it’s empty.”
The terrace was large, yet nothing immediately stood out. The atmosphere here was completely different from the rest of the mansion.
The first two floors felt silent, lonely, suffocating.
The third floor was still lonely, but oddly lively.
The terrace, however, felt heavy.
There was no wind. No sound. Despite being out in the open, the air felt unmoving.
It felt familiar.
Even though he had never been here before.
A strange sensation crept over him — like being watched. He turned around, scanning the terrace.
No one.
Still, he continued walking, searching for some purpose behind the flower pot.
Gradually, his vision began to blur.
He removed his glasses and wiped them.
Nothing changed.
He thought about leaving.
But before he could—
“Noctis?”
The voice echoed clearly in his ears.
It was nostalgic.
Familiar.
So familiar it hurt.
He turned instantly.
A woman stood there, looking at him.
His breath caught.
His vision blurred further, but he didn’t care.
A single word escaped him.
“Mom?”
A sharp headache struck him suddenly.
“Ahh—!”
His sight went black.
When he opened his eyes again, the pain was gone.
His vision was clear.
But something was wrong.
“A roof? Wasn’t I on the terrace?”
He slowly shifted his gaze.
Shock hit him.
“W-Why am I here? Why am I back in this apartment?”
He stepped backward and bumped into something.
The flower pot.
He picked it up carefully.
Then the voice came again—
“Noctis, did you finish your breakfast?”
This time there was no doubt.
It was her.
“Mom—”
“Yes, Mom. I finished my breakfast. Can I go outside to play now?”
The reply didn’t come from him.
It came from his younger self.
Nine years old.
“No… what is going on? Is this another illusion created by that mansion?” Noctis whispered.
Then another voice followed.
“You can, but don’t get yourself injured while playing, okay?”
His father.
Memories he had buried for years began resurfacing.
His vision blurred again.
When it cleared, the scene had changed.
His younger self was crying while holding a watch.
“Dad! The watch you gave me… the time stopped and it’s not working anymore—” little Noctis cried through his tears.
“It’s fine. Don’t cry,” his father replied gently. “Give it to me. I’ll fix it.”
“Sniff—okay.”
“Hmm… Oh! Look, it’s working again. The time never stopped. It was just stuck. You rotate this here and press it to resume.”
“Oh wow~ You’re the best dad! But what do you mean by resuming time?” the child asked, his blue eyes glowing with curiosity.
“Well, time never truly stops for anyone. It just moves along with everything. Everything that’s meant to happen will happen within that flow, without interference.”
“So… time won’t move unless everything moves with it?”
His father smiled widely.
“There you go. You understood perfectly. My genius son.”
“Hehehe~ Of course. I’m your son after all.”
Noctis watched the scene unfold, tears forming in his eyes.
His vision blurred again.
Now he stood before the main door of the apartment. His parents were in front of him.
“Take care, Noctis,” his mother said, ruffling his hair.
“We’ll be back by evening,” his father added.
Suddenly panic surged through him.
“Wait—no. Today is the day… the accident.”
“Wait! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me alone again!”
He rushed forward, but the door closed before he could reach them.
He stumbled and fell.
Darkness swallowed him again.
When he opened his eyes this time, he stood in the open air.
He knew this place immediately.
The graveyard.
In the distance, people dressed in black stood near two graves.
He looked down at the flower pot.
Now he understood.
He walked closer.
He saw his younger self standing beside his grandmother, holding the same flower pot.
That day.
Instead of bringing flowers to his parents’ funeral, he had brought the pot he and his mother had once tried to grow flowers in together.
Nothing had ever bloomed.
And now there was no one left to grow it with him.
The mourners left one by one.
His younger self disappeared.
Even his grandmother faded.
Only Noctis remained.
He stepped forward and placed the flower pot gently in front of the graves.
“Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad. Thank you for raising me. Thank you for everything.”
A faint smile appeared through his tears.
His vision blurred once more.
But this time, he didn’t resist.
He accepted it.
Because for the first time since entering the mansion—
He finally knew what he had to do.
