Chapter 01:The new Arrival

The crisp morning air carried a faint chill as the sun peeked through the dense clouds over Berlin. St. Walpurga's Asylum for the Mentally Ill stood imposingly against the skyline, its gothic architecture a stark contrast to the modern buildings that surrounded it. Known throughout Germany as one of the leading mental hospitals, its reputation was built on the brilliance of the doctors it housed—men and women who were considered the best in their field. The asylum's long, winding corridors had seen countless patients come and go, each with their own stories, tragedies, and secrets.

Inside the hospital, the atmosphere was hushed, save for the occasional murmur of doctors discussing cases or the soft footsteps of nurses attending to their duties. The reception area, with its polished floors and minimalist decor, was a picture of sterile efficiency. Behind the main counter, a young woman was sipping from a coffee mug, her fingers wrapped around it as if drawing warmth from the ceramic. A small, yellow smiley face sticker adorned the side of the mug—a rare touch of brightness in an otherwise muted environment.

Standing by the counter, Dr. Erich Höller was deep in conversation with his colleague and best friend, Dr. Viktor Kraus. The two doctors made an odd pair—Erich, 25 years old with medium-length black hair that brushed his ears, was lanky and appeared almost disinterested, while Viktor, four years his senior, was stockier, with a more rugged appearance that betrayed his fondness for food and a life well-lived.

"Another lazy day, I see," Viktor remarked, biting into a crisp red apple. His voice was light, teasing, as he leaned against the counter. "You know, if you put just a little effort in, you'd surpass me in no time. Hell, you'd probably be running this place."

Erich shrugged, his expression one of habitual indifference. "Fame isn't for me, Viktor. All those journalists, the constant attention... It's exhausting and boring. Besides, I don't need to prove anything."

Viktor chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a strange one, Erich. Most people would kill for the opportunities you have. But I suppose that's what makes you... different."

Their conversation was interrupted by the female worker at the counter, who held out a thin file toward Erich. "Dr. Höller, this is for you. Patient 402."

Erich took the file without much interest, flipping it open. The first thing that struck him was how little information it contained. No name, no history, no medical records—just a number, 402. According to the sparse notes, the patient was found in a remote cabin, laughing to himself. He wasn't violent, and the brief psychiatric evaluation indicated that he seemed almost sane, albeit with no memory of his past.

"402?" Erich mused, more to himself than anyone else. "No name, no past… this one's a ghost."

"Sounds like a challenge," Viktor said, smirking. "But then again, you're not one for challenges, are you?"

Erich snapped the file shut, already bored with the prospect. "I might pass this one off to someone else. I'm not in the mood today."

Before Viktor could respond, the automatic doors to the hospital lobby slid open with a quiet hiss. A guard entered, pushing a wheelchair in front of him. Seated in the chair was a man who appeared to be in his early forties, his skin unnervingly pale, almost translucent. His face, though lined with the first signs of age, was impassive, his eyes void of any emotion as they scanned the room. Erich's gaze was drawn to him immediately, and as the man's eyes met his, a chill ran down his spine.

The man smiled—a small, almost imperceptible curve of the lips—and for a moment, the sterile air of the hospital seemed to grow colder. "Nice to meet you, doc... see you later then," the man said, his voice low and disturbingly calm. His words hung in the air long after he was wheeled away, echoing in Erich's mind.

Erich stood there, momentarily stunned. How did the man know he was the doctor assigned to his case? The question gnawed at him, his curiosity piqued in a way it hadn't been in a long time.

Viktor watched the exchange, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You know him?"

Erich shook his head, still staring down the hallway where the patient had disappeared. "No," he murmured, "but I think I'm about to find out."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked back to the counter, handing the file to the female worker. "I'll take the case."

Viktor blinked, taken aback by Erich's sudden change of heart. "Wait—what just happened? I thought you were going to pass on this one."

Erich didn't answer. Instead, he reached out and grabbed the last apple from the fruit basket, the one Viktor had been eyeing for his next snack. He bit into it, the crunch resonating through the quiet lobby, and began walking briskly down the hallway.

Viktor stood there, the empty basket in front of him, and let out a small sigh of resignation. "That was my apple, you know," he muttered to no one in particular.

As Erich walked through the hospital's labyrinth of corridors, his mind raced. The file in his hand felt heavier with each step, as though the mystery of Patient 402 was physically pulling him in. He skimmed through the scant details again: found in a remote cabin, laughing alone, seemingly sane but with no memory of who he was. There was something off about this, something that didn't sit right.

Finally, he reached the door to Patient 402's room. A guard stood beside it, nodding as Erich approached. "You have permission to enter, Doctor."

Erich nodded back, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small window high up on the wall. Patient 402 sat on the bed, his back to the door, staring out at nothing.

"Mr. 402," Erich began, stepping into the room. "My name is Dr. Erich Höller. I'll be your attending physician."

The man didn't turn around. For a moment, Erich thought he hadn't heard him. But then, in the same calm, unnervingly serene voice, the man replied, "I've been waiting for you, Doctor."

Erich closed the door behind him, the room's dim light casting long shadows on the walls. Patient 402 remained seated on the bed, his back straight, hands resting calmly on his knees. He turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge Erich's presence, but not enough to reveal any further emotion. The only splash of color in the room was a small vase on the bedside table, holding two red roses—vibrant against the otherwise sterile surroundings.

Erich took a step forward, placing the file down on a nearby chair. "Before we begin the formal evaluation, I have a question for you. How did you know I was your doctor?"

Patient 402 chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to echo unnervingly in the confined space. He finally turned to face Erich fully, a playful glint in his eye. "Did that leave quite the impression on you, Doctor?"

Erich remained silent, waiting for a proper answer. The patient's smile widened slightly as he continued. "It was simple, really. When I was brought in, I noticed I was the only new patient. You were holding a small folder—thin, like it was for someone with very little information. That matched my situation perfectly. By then, it was fifty-fifty between you and the other doctor standing beside you."

He paused, letting the words sink in before proceeding. "But the real clue was in the way you looked at me. The other doctor glanced at me and then looked away. But you—" he pointed at Erich, his tone almost teasing—"you kept looking. That's when I knew, or at least hoped, that you would be the one."

There was something unnervingly precise about the patient's logic, his ability to piece together small details to form a clear conclusion. Erich, slightly taken aback, gave a small nod of acknowledgment. "I see. That's quite observant of you."

He moved to sit down across from 402 but paused, his curiosity piqued again. "But why ask for my name if you already knew it?"

The patient's smile faltered for just a moment, but then it returned, this time tinged with a hint of surprise. "You're sharp, Doctor. Yes, I saw your name on your badge." His gaze met Erich's, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something deeper, a recognition of sorts. "Erich Höller," he said, testing the name on his tongue. "You're observant too, I see."

Erich, now seated, offered a polite smile in return. "It comes with the job. But I'm not the best doctor here. That title belongs to Dr. Viktor Kraus—the one who was with me earlier."

Patient 402 raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "That guy? He didn't exactly strike me as the best at what he does."

Erich couldn't help but chuckle at the patient's candidness. "Appearances can be deceiving. But enough about that. Let's begin the evaluation."

402's expression shifted from playful to attentive as Erich retrieved a notepad from his pocket. "We'll start with a few simple questions. It's just a standard procedure, nothing to worry about."

Patient 402 nodded, leaning back slightly as if settling in for a casual conversation. "Go ahead, Doctor."

"Do you know your name?"

A brief pause. "No. It's like there's a blank space where that should be."

"Do you remember your birth date or how old you are?"

Another pause, slightly longer this time. "I don't remember my birth date, but… I think I'm 40. Maybe 39."

Erich noted the responses, his pen moving swiftly across the page. "Do you remember anything or anyone from before you were found in the cabin?"

402's gaze grew distant as he considered the question. "No. Everything before that day is just… gone."

Erich nodded, finishing his notes. "Alright, that's enough for today. You can rest now. I'll be back tomorrow to continue the evaluation."

Patient 402 smiled again, that same unsettling calm returning to his features. "I'm looking forward to it, Doctor."

Erich stood, gathering his things. He gave the patient a final, contemplative glance before turning to leave. The door clicked shut behind him, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Walking back to the counter, Erich felt a strange mix of emotions—curiosity, unease, and a peculiar sense of excitement. As he handed the day's results to the female worker, she looked up from her computer, noticing the unusual expression on his face.

"You're smiling," she observed, her voice tinged with mild surprise. "You're usually tired and bored after these evaluations."

Erich blinked, as if only now realizing that he was, in fact, smiling. "I guess I didn't notice," he replied, still deep in thought.

The worker frowned slightly, clearly confused, but took the papers from him nonetheless. "Well, that's everything for today, Doctor. You're free to go."

Erich nodded, offering a brief "thank you" before heading out of the hospital. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet street as he made his way toward a small grocery store he frequented.

Inside, the store was quiet, the soft hum of the refrigeration units the only sound. Erich quickly gathered a few items—a can of soda, some instant noodles, a couple of vegetables—and headed to the checkout.

The cashier, a familiar face, grinned as he scanned the items. "Noodles again, Erich? Really?"

Erich rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "It's quick and easy. Perfect for someone who doesn't have time to cook."

The cashier chuckled, bagging the items with practiced ease. "You know, you should find yourself a wife who can cook for you. It shouldn't be too hard for a guy like you."

Erich shot him a playful glare. "That's none of your business," he said, but his tone was light, friendly. He paid for his groceries and left the store, the smile lingering on his face as he walked the familiar path home.

As he passed a nearby apartment building, he noticed a couple of police cars parked out front, their lights flashing silently. He frowned, wondering what could have happened in such a quiet neighborhood, but he quickly brushed off the thought and continued on his way.

His home was a modest two-story building with a simple, functional design. Inside, the kitchen was small but clean, with just enough space for him to prepare his usual meals. He quickly cooked the noodles, adding in the vegetables for a bit of variety, and carried the bowl to the living room.

Settling onto the couch, Erich flicked on the TV, letting the mindless noise fill the room as he ate. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Patient 402, to the man's unsettlingly sharp mind and the strange connection he felt during their conversation. There was something about him that was different, something that intrigued Erich in a way he hadn't expected.

As he finished his meal, his mind wandered to his conversation with the cashier. The thought of finding someone to cook for him, to share his life with, seemed oddly out of place—almost annoying. He scowled, brushing the thought away as he set the empty bowl on the coffee table.

The day's exhaustion finally caught up with him, and before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep, the flickering light of the TV casting soft shadows over his peaceful, yet restless, face