Morgan's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Morgan traced fingers along the crumbling wall, searching for memories that wouldn't come. The nameless city stretched out in gray silence, its empty streets holding secrets about the person they used to be. Death had stolen their past, leaving only questions and this pale, tattered form. They needed answers—needed to know who they were before everything went dark. A building at the end of the block caught their attention. Its facade was crumbling, windows shattered into jagged teeth. Paint peeled in long strips from the walls. Morgan's legs moved forward before their mind decided to walk. Something pulled them toward the structure. The front door hung loose on broken hinges. Inside, dust covered everything—furniture, floors, walls. A photo frame lay face-down on a table. Morgan picked it up with careful fingers. The glass was cracked, but underneath was a picture of someone smiling. The face looked familiar in a way that made their chest ache. This place knew them. These rooms had seen the person they used to be. Morgan set the frame down and moved deeper into the house, following the thread of recognition that might lead them back to themselves.