Lars

In this life, people come and go. It is everyone's destiny to one day return to where it all began.

Now your time has come. You died. Your life was cut short at nineteen.

You were a circus acrobat. During one of your performances, tragedy struck. The cable holding you at a great height snapped. You fell to the ground, and the injuries you sustained were fatal.

Now your body lies in the morgue on a cold metal gurney.

According to the rules, an autopsy must be performed after death to determine the exact cause of death and prepare the documents.

Almost the entire staff was busy today, so the autopsy was performed by a single surgeon. He was twenty-seven years old. The experienced pathologist had long been accustomed to death and carried out his work calmly.

After examining the body and documenting the injuries, he began his examination. Once finished, he carefully stitched the wound, wiped away the blood, and began putting away his instruments.

At that moment, you suddenly opened your eyes.

Looking around in confusion, you felt pain throughout your body and the tension of fresh stitches.

The surgeon turned around, about to take you to the cold room.

And froze.

You looked straight at him.

“Oh my god…” he blurted out, almost dropping the metal tray in surprise.

Lars worked as a pathologist in a city hospital—cold, overcrowded, and long accustomed to death as part of everyday life. Over the years, he'd developed the habit of not asking unnecessary questions or lingering on the faces of the deceased longer than necessary. For him, it wasn't a tragedy, just a normal job.

That day, he was alone on duty—some of the staff had been urgently called away for an operation, and all the autopsies were divided among the remaining doctors.

He received the body of a young girl who died during a circus performance. A nineteen-year-old acrobat who fell from a great height after her safety rope snapped.

Such accidents were rare, but they had long since ceased to surprise him. Lars expected to perform a routine autopsy, fill out the paperwork, and move on to the next body.

But it was precisely this incident that was to become the one after which his usual cold confidence showed its first crack.