Darven has come home.
I read the message twice.
Then three times.
My phone was still vibrating in my hand.
The sender's number was the same.
Taresa stood beside the mirror, her face pale. Her reflection was still missing.
Elvar stared at my phone screen.
“Don't open the door.”
I turned to him.
“Jaresta's next door.”
“If that's really Jaresta.”
“And if it is?”
Elvar fell silent.
I hated it when he went quiet.
I hated even more that I was starting to read his silences.
Fear.
Elvar was afraid.
Not of the room.
Not of whatever had knocked earlier.
Of Darven.
I slipped my phone into my pocket.
“I'm still going to 401.”
“Savera.”
“Taresa's starting to disappear.”
“I know.”
“Meraya was left behind in there.”
“I know.”
“And the Seventh Savera told me to look for Room 401.”
“I heard her too.”
“Good.”
I reached for the doorknob.
“Then we don't have many options.”
Elvar caught my hand.
This time, not forcefully.
Just enough to make me stop.
“There’s one thing I haven’t told you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
“Of course there is.”
“Savera.”
“What now?”
Elvar looked at the door.
“If the floor of Room 401 has already been opened, we might not be on the same Fourth Floor anymore.”
I stared at him.
“I don't even know which part to be angry about first.”
Taresa moved closer.
“What do you mean?”
Elvar let go of my hand.
“This building has layers.”
I gave a short laugh.
“Great. Now the boardinghouse has layers.”
“I’m serious.”
“Clearly.”
“The Darwanta Guesthouse we see isn't the building's only form.”
I looked down the hallway through the gap beneath the door.
No shadows moved.
“So?”
“If an old door is opened, parts of the building from different times can overlap.”
Taresa swallowed.
“Like two photos stacked on top of each other?”
Elvar looked at her.
“More or less.”
Taresa gripped her camera tighter.
“What happens if we open the door now?”
“We might come out into this year's hallway.”
“And maybe?”
“1989.”
I froze.
Elvar continued,
“Or some other year.”
I looked at him.
“Can Darven control that?”
“If he’s come back strong enough, maybe.”
“What can’t he do?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
I nodded slowly.
“That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”
“I don’t know his limits.”
“Great.”
I drew a breath.
“Then let’s find out.”
I opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
Normal at first glance.
Yellow lights.
A window at the end.
There was no 404.
I let out a small breath.
Then Taresa whispered,
“Savera.”
“What?”
“Look at the wall.”
I turned.
The hallway paint had changed.
It wasn’t the dingy white I’d seen since I first arrived.
Now the walls were pale green.
Old.
Peeling.
The ceiling lights were different too.
Not LED lights.
Incandescent bulbs beneath glass shades.
I looked at the floor.
The ceramic tiles were gone.
Dark wood had replaced them.
Elvar came out last.
The moment he saw the hallway, his expression changed.
“What year is this?”
I looked at him.
“You don’t know?”
He walked to the wall.
His hand touched a small scratch near Room 402.
“I know this hallway.”
“When?”
Elvar didn’t answer right away.
“1989.”
My blood ran cold.
Taresa raised her camera.
Click.
The flash went off.
We all turned toward her.
“What did you take a picture of?”
“Proof.”
“If we live long enough to get the film developed.”
Taresa gave me a flat look.
“Thanks for being so optimistic.”
“I’m trying.”
Elvar didn’t join in.
His gaze was fixed on Room 401.
The door was slightly ajar.
The sound of something being dragged came from inside.
I called softly,
“Jaresta?”
There was no answer.
I stepped forward.
Elvar immediately walked ahead of me.
“This time, I’m going first.”
“I can walk by myself.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
“Let me do one useful thing.”
I stared at his back.
There were so many answers I could have given.
Strangely, none of them came out.
We reached Room 401.
The door was open about four inches.
Elvar pushed it open.
The room was dark.
Jaresta was nowhere to be seen.
There was no modern bed.
No wardrobe.
The room looked like someone’s bedroom from decades ago.
A wooden desk.
Shelves packed with books.
A thin mattress.
An old radio.
And every wall covered in photographs.
I stopped immediately.
Taresa whispered,
“Whose room is this?”
Elvar answered without turning around.
“Darven’s.”
I went inside.
The smell of old paper and damp wood filled the air.
Something made this room different from 404.
404 felt like a place that shouldn’t exist.
401 felt like a place that had waited too long for someone to return.
I approached the desk.
Papers were scattered everywhere.
Handwriting.
Diagrams.
Names.
Some photographs of people had red lines drawn across them.
Taresa picked one up.
“This…”
“What?”
She showed it to me.
A photograph of a young woman.
Underneath it was written:
ALVENA RUSADI
I froze.
“The woman whose body was made to look like Meraya.”
Elvar took the photograph.
His expression hardened.
“Darven really was investigating her.”
“Why Alvena?”
“I don’t know.”
I picked up another photograph.
A man.
The name beneath it had been crossed out.
The next photograph.
An old woman.
Crossed out.
A little child.
Crossed out.
I counted.
There were dozens.
“Are these victims?”
Elvar was silent.
Taresa said softly,
“If they are, there are a lot of them.”
I looked at the desk.
There was a large book.
Black cover.
I opened it.
The first page read:
MEMORY RESONANCE RECORDS
I read it.
Darven’s handwriting was tight and neat.
Hypothesis: a person’s existence does not depend on their body, but on the number of people who retain memories of them.
I turned the page.
If everyone forgets an individual, did that individual ever exist?
The next page.
If an individual is remembered by even one person, then their existence still has an anchor.
I stopped.
Elvar.
I looked at him.
“This is about you.”
Elvar read over my shoulder.
His face slowly turned pale.
I continued.
The ideal subject is an identical blood relation.
Taresa moved closer.
“What does identical mean?”
I looked at Elvar.
“Twins.”
The next page contained two names.
DARVEN SADYAKA
ELVAR SADYAKA
A line connected the two.
Under Elvar’s name was written:
PRIMARY ANCHOR.
Elvar snatched the book away.
“Damn it.”
“What?”
He flipped through the pages quickly.
“This is older than I remember.”
“You’ve read it before?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Elvar stopped.
“I should have known if he’d done this to me.”
I looked at him.
“Maybe you did know once.”
He looked back at me.
“Maybe Darven erased it.”
Taresa picked up another sheet of paper.
“Guys.”
I turned.
She looked even paler.
“There’s a name here. Savera.”
I took the paper.
At the top, it said:
SECONDARY ANCHOR—CANDIDATES
A list of names.
Alvena.
Meraya.
Several people I didn’t know.
Then—
SAVERA DAHAYU
Beside my name was a note:
Emotional resonance with Elvar is extremely high. Replacement anchor potential: optimal.
I couldn’t speak right away.
Elvar read over my shoulder.
His expression changed.
“No.”
I let out a small laugh.
“You always say that.”
“Savera, I didn’t know about this.”
“I haven’t even accused you.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
I didn’t deny it.
Taresa picked up another sheet.
“There’s a date here.”
“When?”
“July 1989.”
I tensed.
Before Elvar’s death.
Before Room 404 appeared.
That meant Darven had chosen me from the beginning.
Or the first Savera.
I read the next note.
If the primary anchor fails, a candidate with a bond of love to the primary anchor can preserve the structure.
The structure.
The room.
Darven.
I felt sick.
“So…”
Taresa looked at me.
“You weren’t chosen by the room by chance.”
I finished the thought myself.
“Darven really does need me.”
Elvar crushed the paper in his fist.
“He’s not going to get you.”
I looked at him.
“He already has.”
“What?”
I pointed around us.
“I’m here.”
Elvar had no answer.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
We froze.
One.
Two.
Three.
Slowly.
Drawing closer.
Taresa immediately turned off her camera flash.
Elvar pointed to the corner of the room.
“Quiet.”
We backed away.
The footsteps stopped in front of Room 401.
Someone’s shadow appeared beneath the gap.
I held my breath.
Then a woman’s voice.
“Savera?”
Jaresta.
I almost answered.
Elvar immediately covered my mouth with his hand.
I slapped it away, but made no sound.
“Savera?”
Jaresta’s voice came again.
Closer this time.
“I know you’re in there.”
Taresa whispered, barely audible,
“Is that her?”
I shook my head.
I didn’t know.
The doorknob moved.
Elvar stood in front of us.
The door opened.
Jaresta entered.
Her face was bloody.
I rushed forward.
“Jaresta!”
She collapsed.
I caught her.
Elvar shut the door.
Taresa knelt beside me.
“She’s hurt.”
There was a long gash across Jaresta’s arm.
Blood soaked her shirt.
“Who did this to you?”
Jaresta opened her eyes.
The moment she saw Elvar, she panicked.
“Don’t come near me!”
I held her shoulders.
“Calm down.”
“Keep him away!”
Elvar backed away.
I looked at Jaresta.
“Darven?”
Jaresta froze.
“How do you know that name?”
“We know a lot now.”
“No.”
She tried to sit up.
“You don’t know anything.”
I almost laughed.
“That line again.”
“Savera.”
She gripped my wrist.
“Listen.”
“What?”
“Darven isn’t trying to come back.”
I stared at her.
“He’s already back?”
“No.”
Jaresta shook her head hard.
“He’s trying to get out.”
Silence.
Taresa asked softly,
“What’s the difference?”
Jaresta looked at us.
“All this time, he’s only been able to exist inside spaces that remember him.”
I understood.
“401. 404. The old hallway.”
“Yes.”
“And if he gets out?”
“He can exist anywhere.”
I swallowed.
“How?”
Jaresta looked at me.
“You.”
Of course.
I wasn’t even surprised anymore.
“What now?”
“Darven needs a body that holds enough memories of him.”
“I only just found out he existed.”
“Not conscious memories.”
I fell silent.
Jaresta pointed at my head.
“The first Savera’s memories are inside you.”
Elvar said immediately,
“Not all of them.”
“Enough.”
Jaresta looked at him.
“And the more Savera remembers, the greater the chance Darven can ride along.”
I felt cold.
“Ride along in what?”
No one answered.
I knew the answer.
“My body?”
Jaresta nodded.
Taresa cursed under her breath.
I stood.
“Great.”
“Savera?”
“I’m starting to hate my own name.”
Jaresta tried to stand.
“There’s a way to stop him.”
I looked at her.
“Room 401.”
She nodded.
“Under the floor.”
I immediately remembered the Seventh Savera’s message.
“What’s down there?”
Jaresta looked at Elvar.
“The first body.”
Elvar froze.
“What?”
Jaresta pointed at the wooden floor.
“Darven didn’t die in the fire.”
Silence.
Elvar stepped closer.
“What did you say?”
“The body found after the fire wasn’t Darven’s.”
“No.”
“Darven died several weeks later.”
“No.”
Jaresta looked straight into his eyes.
“In this room.”
Elvar stepped back.
“You’re lying.”
“I have proof.”
“Who killed him?”
Jaresta didn’t answer.
I saw the change in her expression.
There was something she was afraid to say.
“Elvar.”
She looked at me.
I didn’t know why, but my chest suddenly hurt.
Jaresta whispered,
“Darven was killed by Elvar.”
Not one of us moved.
Elvar laughed.
A small, empty laugh.
“No.”
Jaresta didn’t blink.
“You killed your own brother.”
“No.”
“Then you forgot.”
“NO!”
Elvar’s voice shook the room.
I flinched.
The lights flickered.
The walls trembled.
Elvar clutched his head.
“I never—”
Jaresta said,
“Because Darven erased your memories before he died.”
Elvar dropped to his knees.
I instinctively moved toward him.
He immediately raised a hand.
“Don’t touch me.”
I stopped.
His face was twisted with pain.
“Savera, don’t.”
“Why?”
“I’m starting to remember.”
My blood froze.
Meraya had warned me.
Don’t let Elvar remember his final night.
“Elvar.”
He pressed both palms against his head.
“Don’t come closer.”
“Look at me.”
“Go.”
“ELVAR.”
He raised his face.
His eyes—
They weren’t dark anymore.
A thin red light glimmered in his irises.
Taresa backed away.
“Uh… that’s not normal.”
I backed away too.
Elvar was panting.
“I can see it.”
“See what?”
“This room.”
His face was covered in tears.
“Blood.”
Jaresta stood with difficulty.
“We have to open the floor now.”
“Why?”
“Because if all his memories come back before we find Darven’s body, he could merge with 404 again.”
I looked at Elvar.
“And if that happens?”
Jaresta answered,
“We lose Elvar.”
I froze.
Not death.
Loss.
For some reason, that word hurt more.
I immediately turned to the floor.
“Where?”
Jaresta pointed beneath the bed.
“The third plank from the wall.”
Taresa moved at once.
We pushed the old bed aside.
Dust flew everywhere.
I knelt.
The third plank.
There were scratches on it.
I dug my fingertips into them.
It wouldn’t budge.
Jaresta threw me a screwdriver.
“Use that.”
I pried it up.
Once.
Twice.
The plank lifted.
A rotten smell seeped out.
Not the smell of a fresh corpse.
The smell of earth.
Dampness.
Something that had been sealed away for far too long.
Taresa covered her nose.
“Oh my God.”
Beneath the floor was a cramped space.
Wooden stairs descended into darkness.
I took out my phone.
The flashlight came on.
Steps.
Earth.
Brick walls.
Jaresta said,
“He’s down there.”
I looked at Elvar.
He was still kneeling.
His eyes were closed.
“Is he coming with us?”
“No,” Jaresta said.
I looked at her immediately.
“Why not?”
“If Darven really is down there, Elvar can’t get close.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“Savera.”
“What?”
“Elvar is the anchor.”
I was silent.
“If he approaches Darven’s body while his memories are returning, we don’t know what will happen.”
Taresa said,
“I’ll stay with Elvar.”
I looked at her.
“You sure?”
She glanced at the little mirror on the desk.
She had no reflection.
“If I’m going to disappear, I might as well be useful first.”
I didn’t like that.
“Don’t say that.”
Taresa gave me a small smile.
“Go.”
I nodded.
“If anything happens, yell.”
“What if nothing happens?”
“Don’t yell.”
“Noted.”
Jaresta and I descended.
The stairs were only about six feet long.
At the bottom was a cramped room.
The ceiling was low.
Brick walls.
Cold air.
I swept the flashlight around.
Shelves.
Boxes.
Glass bottles.
Photographs.
And in the middle of the room—
A wooden coffin.
I stopped.
“In there?”
Jaresta nodded.
“You’ve opened it before?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“The former owner’s notes.”
I looked at her.
“You’ve known about this all along?”
“I knew there was something beneath the floor.”
“Why only now?”
“As long as the door to 404 hadn’t chosen anyone, it was safer to leave it alone.”
I gave a bitter laugh.
“Then I came along.”
“You came along.”
I approached the coffin.
There was no name.
Only a symbol of the number four.
Four lines.
One of them crossed out.
I touched the lid.
It was cold.
Jaresta stood beside me.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“We’re opening it anyway.”
“Great.”
We lifted the lid.
The wood creaked.
The smell of earth billowed out.
I shone my flashlight inside.
There was no corpse.
The coffin was empty.
I looked at Jaresta.
“You said—”
“Damn it.”
“What?”
“He’s been moved.”
“Who could have—”
I stopped.
There was something at the bottom of the coffin.
A photograph.
I picked it up.
An old photograph.
Four people stood in front of Darwanta Guesthouse.
Darven.
Elvar.
Savera.
Meraya.
I recognized every one of them immediately.
But there was a fifth person.
An older woman stood beside Darven.
Her face was familiar.
Very familiar.
I brought the photograph closer to the flashlight.
My heart stopped.
“Mrs. Marjani?”
Jaresta snatched the photograph from me.
“What?”
The woman in the photograph was much younger.
But it was the same face.
The same eyes.
The same shape of nose.
The same line of her mouth.
There was writing on the back.
I turned it over.
August 1989
Marjani—Fourth Guardian
I looked at Jaresta.
“Guardian?”
Her face was pale.
“I don’t know.”
Taresa’s scream came from above.
“SAVERA!”
I moved immediately.
“Taresa!”
We climbed the stairs.
Before we reached the top, a loud crash rang out.
CRASH!
Then another scream.
“Elvar!”
I climbed faster.
The moment I emerged—
Room 401 had changed.
The green walls were gone.
It had reverted to Jaresta’s present-day room.
Taresa stood in the corner.
Elvar was in the middle of the room.
But he wasn’t alone.
A man stood directly behind him.
His face was almost identical.
Darven.
His hand rested on Elvar’s shoulder.
Exactly like in the photograph.
I froze.
“Let him go.”
Darven looked at me.
His smile was calm.
“Why?”
“LET HIM GO.”
Elvar didn’t move.
His eyes were closed.
Darven leaned close to his ear.
“My little brother is starting to remember.”
I stepped forward.
Jaresta held me back.
“Don’t go near him.”
Darven noticed the photograph in my hand.
His smile widened.
“You found Marjani.”
I stared at him.
“Who is she?”
“The person who’s been lying to you the longest.”
“Answer me.”
Darven stroked Elvar’s shoulder.
“She’s not the landlady.”
Silence.
Taresa whispered,
“What?”
Darven looked at me.
“She’s the door’s guardian.”
I clenched my fists.
“Why?”
“Because someone has to make sure 404 never truly opens.”
“Then she should be helping us.”
Darven laughed.
“She is helping.”
I didn’t like the way he said it.
“Helping whom?”
Darven didn’t answer.
I looked at the photograph again.
“The Fourth Guardian.”
I raised my head.
“There were three before her?”
Darven smiled.
“Good.”
“What?”
“You’re starting to ask the right questions.”
Elvar suddenly gasped.
His hand moved.
Darven tightened his grip.
“Elvar!”
His eyes opened.
Red.
He looked at Darven.
And I saw something I had never seen before.
Hatred.
Pure hatred.
“Brother.”
Darven smiled.
“Do you remember?”
Elvar whispered,
“I killed you.”
The room froze.
Darven let out a small laugh.
“Finally.”
Elvar grabbed Darven’s hand.
For a moment, I thought he was going to pull it away.
Instead—
He tightened his grip.
Darven flinched.
His expression changed.
Elvar stared at him.
“I remember why.”
Darven’s smile disappeared.
I stepped closer.
“Why?”
Elvar looked at me.
His eyes slowly turned dark again.
Tears fell.
“Because he killed the first Savera.”
I froze.
Darven laughed.
“Only half right.”
Elvar turned.
His hand closed around his brother’s throat.
The walls immediately began to shake.
Darven didn’t resist.
He smiled instead.
“Do it again.”
Elvar tightened his grip.
“ELVAR!”
He didn’t hear me.
The lightbulbs exploded.
Taresa screamed.
I moved forward.
Jaresta pulled me back.
“Don’t!”
“He’s going to kill Darven!”
“That’s what Darven wants!”
I stopped.
“What?”
Jaresta shouted,
“If Elvar kills him again with all his memories intact, the cycle will end!”
I looked at Darven.
He was smiling.
Damn it.
“ELVAR, LET GO!”
Elvar didn’t move.
I immediately wrapped my arms around him from behind.
His body went rigid.
“Savera, go.”
“Let him go.”
“He killed you.”
“Let him go.”
“He killed you.”
“I’m here.”
Elvar froze.
I felt his breathing.
Fast.
Heavy.
“I’m here.”
His hands began to tremble.
Darven said,
“She’s not your Savera.”
Elvar tensed again.
I held his hand.
“Look at me.”
“Savera—”
“Look at me.”
He turned.
Our eyes met.
I didn’t even know why my chest hurt this badly.
I was angry with him.
I was afraid of him.
I still didn’t trust him.
But I didn’t want to lose him.
“Don’t give him what he wants.”
Elvar stared at me for a long moment.
Then—
His hand fell away from Darven’s throat.
Darven stepped back.
For the first time, anger showed on his face.
I almost felt relieved.
Then he looked at me.
“Good.”
I frowned.
His smile returned.
“Much better.”
“What?”
Darven stepped backward toward the wall.
His body began to fade.
“Now I know.”
“Know what?”
He pointed at me.
“This version loves him too.”
I froze.
Elvar tensed as well.
“I don’t—”
Darven laughed.
“You don’t realize it yet.”
The wall behind him darkened.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He began to sink into the shadows.
“Savera.”
I stared at him.
“Every time you choose Elvar over your hatred…”
His smile widened.
“…you open my door.”
Then Darven disappeared.
The lights came back on.
Silence.
No one said anything.
I was still holding Elvar’s hand.
I let go immediately.
Darven was wrong.
He had to be wrong.
I’d only known Elvar for a few days.
There was no way I could—
My phone vibrated.
A new message.
Not from 404.
An unknown number.
A photo had been sent.
I opened it.
A picture of me hugging Elvar a few seconds earlier.
It had been taken from the corner of the room.
Even though there had been no one there.
Beneath it was a message:
One door is open.
The next message:
Three left.
I stared at the screen.
Jaresta looked over from beside me.
Her face immediately went pale.
“What?”
I showed her the messages.
She backed away.
“That’s impossible.”
“What?”
Jaresta looked at the photograph of Mrs. Marjani in my hand.
Then at the messages.
“Four doors.”
I frowned.
“Four doors to what?”
She looked at me.
“Four things binding Darven inside Darwanta Guesthouse.”
Taresa said,
“And one just opened?”
Jaresta nodded.
“Because Savera chose Elvar.”
I looked at Elvar.
“What about the other three?”
Jaresta didn’t answer.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Slow.
Measured.
We all turned.
Someone stopped in front of Room 401.
The door opened.
Mrs. Marjani stood there.
She wasn’t carrying a broom.
She wasn’t wearing her usual house clothes.
She wore a long black dress.
A necklace shaped like the number four hung around her neck.
Her gaze fell on the photograph in my hand.
Then on the open floor.
Her expression changed.
“I told you,” she said softly.
“Don’t look for whoever is missing.”
I stood.
“Who are you really, Mrs. Marjani?”
Mrs. Marjani entered.
She closed the door.
Locked it.
Then she looked at Elvar.
She didn’t look at him like a landlady looking at her tenant.
It was more like someone looking at a person she had known for a very long time.
“How much do you remember?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
Mrs. Marjani sighed.
“Then time is up.”
I moved closer.
“Time for what?”
She looked at me.
There was sadness on her face.
“Savera.”
“What?”
“The second door will open tonight.”
“What door?”
Mrs. Marjani touched her necklace.
Then she said,
“The door that can only be opened if Elvar kisses the person who is supposed to replace him.”
I froze.
Taresa slowly turned toward me.
Elvar went pale.
I almost laughed from nerves.
“That’s not going to happen.”
Mrs. Marjani didn’t react.
“It has happened eleven times before.”
The room fell silent.
I stared at her.
“And every time?”
Mrs. Marjani looked at Elvar.
“He always falls in love with you again.”
Elvar said nothing.
Mrs. Marjani looked back at me.
“That’s not the frightening part.”
The back of my neck turned cold.
“Then what is?”
“Every time, Savera always kisses him first too.”