Elian didn't sleep.
He sat at the edge of the bed, screen still glowing, staring at the obituary.
Karan Malik.
It wasn't just the tragedy that haunted him.
It was the timing.
Karan had died just days after their short film wrapped. A studio fire—small, localized, never covered by national media. He'd read it once and forced himself to forget it.
The guilt had clawed at him for months.
And now, in this new world, the same face had appeared… uninvited, unrecorded, unexplained.
And most disturbing of all — only he could see it.
[ Side Quest: Trace the Echo – Active
Uncover why a person from your old world appeared unscripted in your current shoot.
Time Limit Remaining: 42h 13m
Optional Tasks:
– Rewatch archived footage
– Interview crew and extras present on set
– Scan unreleased script drafts ]
---
[POV: Miraal]
Miraal noticed Elian's absence at the breakfast prep meeting.
By now, it had become routine: he'd arrive early, adjust call sheets, maybe poke holes in the next day's shot list just for sport.
Today? Nothing.
Shaan said he hadn't replied to any of the messages. Arya said he wasn't answering calls.
So when Miraal opened his rented flat with the spare key, she half-expected to find him collapsed under a pile of work.
Instead, he was awake.
Tablet in hand. Footage playing. Face pale.
"Bad dreams or bad edits?" she asked.
Elian looked up — startled, not defensive.
"Neither. Or maybe both."
"Talk to me."
He hesitated.
Then, quietly: "Do you remember the puppet show scene? The little boy sitting in the third row?"
Miraal blinked. "Yeah. Cute kid. Didn't say a word, just sat there. Was he one of ours?"
"No. He wasn't on the extra list. Not cast. Not approved."
"You think he snuck in?"
"I think…" He paused. "I think he was meant to appear."
Miraal frowned.
"That doesn't even make sense."
Elian held up the footage. Froze it.
"Look at this frame."
She leaned in. "Okay…"
"Look closer. Into the eyes."
"I see a kid who needs a tissue and maybe a haircut."
Elian smiled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"To me, he's… someone from my past."
Miraal turned, more serious now.
"You're not joking."
"I never forget a face I filmed. And I filmed this one years ago. In another world."
"…what?"
Elian sighed. "Never mind."
She watched him longer. "You're scared. I can see it."
"I'm not scared," he said. "I'm worried I'm missing something important. Something buried in the story I'm writing — or maybe something the story is writing into me."
---
Back on set, Elian arrived an hour later with renewed focus.
The crew was preparing for a minor flashback, but he asked for a sudden reshoot.
"I want to recreate the puppet scene, just the environment," he said.
"We already got the shot," Shaan reminded.
"I want a clean background plate. No extras."
He said it plainly — but inside, he was testing something.
The location had been reset, the curtain rehung, the props packed. It looked nearly identical.
But when they rolled the camera… the boy didn't appear.
Elian tried three different angles. Same result.
Then he replayed the original clip again on the tablet. Froze it on Frame 03:42.
The boy was there.
---
That night, he sat in front of the mirror with the script system open in diagnostic mode.
[ Trace Progress: 58%
Clue: "Character identified as non-native to this timeline. Memory residue suggests narrative overlap."
Anomaly Level: Moderate
Suggested Action: Inject anomaly into script draft. Let the scene evolve. ]
---
Elian hesitated.
Was the system… asking him to write Karan into the script?
He tapped the prompt.
A window appeared — blank script space, auto-filled with one line:
[ INT. COURTYARD – MEMORY – DAY
A boy watches from the crowd, unseen by others. His eyes lock with the lens, breaking the fourth wall. ]
Elian's breath caught.
He didn't write that line.
But he didn't delete it either.
---
[POV: Arya]
Arya received her new scene notes late — almost midnight. A message from Elian.
{ "New memory beat. Add a glance toward the crowd at the end. Hold it longer. Trust me." }
She didn't question it. She never did, these days.
But she felt the weight of that instruction differently.
A glance toward nothing?
Or something only she couldn't see?
---
The next morning, the set was quiet again.
The puppet curtain was reset. Arya stood in place. No child extras this time.
Just her, Elian, Miraal, and two camera operators.
She took her marks.
Camera rolled.
She walked forward, slower this time. Eyes scanning the empty crowd.
And then — for just a second — she stopped.
Stared into the space where no one stood.
And smiled.
A sad, tiny smile.
Elian whispered to the camera team: "Don't cut. Let it breathe."
They let the moment stretch.
The wind rustled the puppet curtain again.
And just behind the edge of frame, something flickered.
Not a face.
Not a shadow.
Just… presence.
---
Back in the editing room, Elian zoomed in.
Frame 03:42 again.
But this time, the boy wasn't there.
Instead, a line of script had burned itself faintly into the bottom of the screen.
[ "Some roles never die. Some stories never stop trying." ]
The system pinged.
[ Side Quest Complete: Trace the Echo
Reward Unlocked: Realism Layer +1 – Emotional Authenticity Enhanced in All Scripts
Bonus Memory Fragment Retrieved ]
Then a final prompt:
[ Would you like to view the memory fragment? ]
Elian hesitated.
Then clicked "YES"