yuin_h4tesme
Mikhail Kholodov has always been a little too self-aware, a little too enamored with the quiet intensity of Dimitri Valerianovich Morozov-the kind of man who walks through a room and leaves a storm in his wake. But when a voice, relentless and omnipresent, begins whispering in his mind, narrating his every breath, step, and stolen glance, Mikhail's world tilts sideways.
At first, he brushes it off as stress, an overactive imagination. Until one day, he does something unexpected-something that wasn't part of the script-and the voice falters. Hesitates. As if... shocked.
Mikhail isn't just hearing things. He's being watched.
And if the narrator is real, then who-or what-has been pulling the strings of his life all along?