Kean's mother lies silently near the temple.Eyes closed. Body still. Breathing — but distant.
The villagers whisper,
"She saw something she wasn't meant to.""She crossed a line."
But Kean doesn't care what they say.
NOW, Every day, he sits beside her.Sometimes holding her finger, sometimes just watching her face.Sometimes… he talks to her as if she can hear him.
That night…A dream comes.
A small wooden hut. Smoke in the air. A quiet fire burning.A child sits near it. Alone.
Behind him, a woman lies. Eyes shut. Lifeless.The child whispers with trembling lips:
"Ma…"
Kean wakes up — breath fast, heart pounding.That place wasn't his. But it was.That woman…Was her.
He walks out into the cold night, staring at the stars.
"Were you… there too, Ma?"
And then… a voice echoes softly inside him.Not his. Not human.
"You are remembering…"
A flicker.A glimpse of something forgotten.Another life.Another death.The same mother.
He doesn't understand it yet —But something inside him does.
This coma isn't just sleep.It's a locked door.And behind it… something waits.Something old.Something real.