There are places that hold memories.
And there are places that are memory.
In a quiet, endless field where the horizon never seems to arrive, a solitary man begins to notice something impossible—the land is changing, not randomly, but in response to him. Patterns repeat. Paths reform. Moments return with subtle differences, as if the world itself is remembering what has already happened.
At first, it feels like coincidence. Then like déjà vu.
And then… like recognition.
