He watched M leave. He watched a new family move in, their laughter like glass shards in his quiet space. He lashed out, shattering plates to reclaim the silence, but they only replaced the porcelain and kept laughing.

He didn't die; ghosts don't have that luxury. Instead, he fell back into the beginning.

Centuries collapsed. The house was torn down. He stood in the footprint of his bedroom while a skyscraper rose around him, cold and steel-eyed. He climbed to the roof and looked at a city that had forgotten the dirt it was built on. Then, he jumped.