
by Kian Elgevi Petersson
He wakes in a decaying windmill with no memory of who he is or how he got there. Only a name remains. Maleck. With nothing else to hold onto, he claims it as his own and steps into a world that feels both unfamiliar and strangely close—like something half-remembered, always just out of reach. Fragments of the past linger in places, in objects, in fleeting instincts he can’t explain. The more he searches, the more questions begin to surface—about the windmill, about the name, and about what might have happened before he woke. Because something did happen. Something that left more behind than it should have. And whatever answers wait ahead… they won’t come easily.
Follow the story's audience level and its rate of change.
Current followers
Follower change
Current views
View change
Point to a cell to inspect it.
—
followers in this window