The scene shifted...
To a small room.
An old house.
The walls were worn down.
The furniture looked like it hadn't been replaced in decades.
Everywhere Tom looked...
There were old pieces of paper.
Stuck to the walls.
One after another.
Every single one carried the same words.
"Remember what happened 80 years ago."
Again.
"Remember what happened 80 years ago."
Again.
"Remember what happened 80 years ago."
Again.
"Remember what happened 80 years ago."
Tom slowly looked around.
The walls.
The windows.
Even the cupboards.
Everywhere...
The exact same sentence.
Finally...
He looked up at the ceiling.
Even there...
Another paper.
"Remember what happened 80 years ago."
Tom looked back at the old woman.
"Granny..."
"What happened eighty years ago?"
She slowly opened her eyes.
Her voice was weak.
"A calamity..."
"A day..."
"Whose story..."
"Would be very hard for you to believe."
She took a deep breath.
"This place was never this ha—"
Suddenly...
She stopped.
Tom waited.
Then...
He heard soft snoring.
He smiled.
"I guess she fell asleep."
But...
A few seconds later...
He noticed she wasn't breathing.
His smile disappeared.
She hadn't fallen asleep.
She had died.
Before her final breath...
She slowly raised one finger.
Pointing...
Toward the ceiling.
Tom looked up.
There was something hidden between the roof tiles.
Without wasting time...
He ran toward the wall.
Using it as a foothold...
He kicked against it.
Then another.
And another.
Until he reached the ceiling.
He pulled out the hidden object.
A folded piece of paper.
But the moment he touched it...
The roof gave way.
Hundreds...
No...
Thousands of papers came crashing down.
Every single one read...
"Remember what happened 80 years ago."
The room disappeared beneath them.
The papers covered everything.
Even the old woman's body vanished beneath the pile.
Tom stared in disbelief.
"What..."
"...is going on?"
Then...
He realized something.
The paper he had just taken...
Was different from all the others.
He immediately dove into the mountain of papers.
Searching desperately.
But after a few moments...
He stopped.
"...No."
"She deserves a proper farewell first."
Tom carefully carried the old woman's body outside.
Just as he stepped onto the street...
A group of city officials approached him.
One of them spoke.
"What happened?"
Tom looked down.
"She..."
"Passed away."
The official nodded sadly.
"Were you related to her?"
Tom was about to answer.
Then suddenly remembered...
She had pointed toward the papers.
He almost said it.
"She pointed toward the pap—"
He stopped himself.
"...She pointed toward the sky."
"And told me..."
"'My time has come, Tom.'"
"And then..."
"She passed away."
The officials exchanged glances.
Then one of them asked,
"Would you like us to bury her..."
"Or cremate her?"
Tom answered without hesitation.
"I want her buried."
"Right where she used to sit every day."
The official hesitated.
"I'm afraid..."
"That would interfere with the city's infrastructure."
Tom lowered his head.
Then another official asked softly,
"Were you close to her?"
Tom smiled faintly.
"...Yeah."
"She was my grandmother."
The officials immediately bowed.
"We're very sorry for your loss."
"We'll prepare the finest memorial we can."
Several hours later...
It was done.
The old woman had finally been laid to rest.
Standing before her grave...
Tom took out a small piece of paper.
He wrote only one sentence.
"I will avenge you."
He gently placed it beside her memorial.
Then...
He returned to her house.
Without hesitation...
He jumped back into the sea of papers.
Hour after hour...
He searched.
Until finally...
He found the note.
Or at least...
He thought he had.
Then he froze.
"...Wait."
"It was in my pocket..."
"...this whole time."
Feeling slightly embarrassed...
He unfolded it.
The note read...
"You may rest now."
"You finally brought someone who can help."
"Now..."
"Sleep forever."
Tom slowly lowered the paper.
"...Who wrote this?"
Then...
His eyes wandered across the room.
Every single paper...
Had the exact same handwriting.
Tom's eyes widened.
"...No way."
"...She planned her own death."