The Visitor Area was not anything grand. It was big enough to fit ten people, a rectangular table near the kitchen area. The wall was made of concrete, which was then painted white.

There was a cross on the wall and a picture of God’s Last Supper which for some reason, made the young man afraid — he gulped.

“Please take a seat on the chair. I’ll prepare the sweets now and would you like tea or coffee?”

“Coffee please,” Matthias responded.

Chris meticulously prepared the coffee. Once it was completed, he placed the cup of coffee in front of the other man. He carried his own mug filled with coffee.

The aroma danced around the air – it was enticing. Additionally, a variety of sweets were placed on top of  the table such as scones, brownies and chocolate bread. 

“You’re probably wondering why I brought you here,” he sipped his coffee. His gaze never left the man’s form.

 “Yes…Priest…?”

“Chris. Chris Hailsworth, and you are Matthias, is that correct?”

With a nod, he replied with a smile. “Yes, that’s correct. Matthias…I am not sure of my last name, as I am an orphan which you may have already known.” 

“Oh, I know you pretty well.” He drank some of the coffee, holding the cup with both of his hands, then placed it on the table.“I know you’re not from this world, Matthias.”

The young man remained calm. However, his heart drummed against his chest like a marching band. 

He wasn’t sure how Chris knew that, did his performance fail? No.

Were Matthias and this priest close? He wasn’t sure. 

He grinned awkwardly. His own very soul trembled beneath his scrutinising gaze. “Sorry…?” 

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you aren't from here, to be exact you’re not even supposed to exist in this era.” Chris’ voice was laced with kindness and softness. He took the privilege to sit in front of the man, his gaze unrelenting. 

“What you’re talking about does not make any sense, Father Chris,’’ the young man met his eyes – and he could feel his heart trembling even more. His eyes were like the abyss itself, enough to make one confess their sins and lies. 

“I’m on your side, Matthias. After all, I’m the one who summoned you. You’re from the future, and you’re probably wondering why you exist here. I can tell you why, if you are willing to listen.”

“Father Chris, I..I think you got the wrong person and you’re making me uncomfortable. Reading and thinking of too many fantasies could also be harmful to you,” he rebut. He slowly brought the edge of the cup a bit close to his lips and slurped, yet his hand twitched like an addict. 

“How could I be wrong when,” he pulled out something from his pockets. A necklace with a small trumpet on it. He had two. 

Matthias’ eyes widened as he thought, ‘so what he told and taught earlier in class was real.’ He could feel himself slowly leaning towards admitting he was from another world but, what would happen if he does, how could he trust this man’s word? 

“Yes, the trumpets are real. I have two of them here. These are the fourth and sixth trumpets.” He placed it on the table, laid out.

Upon closer look, there were roman numbers engraved at the side of it. IV and VI. 

Sceptical, his voice quivered. His eyebrows raised, as his gaze never left the priest. “How could you know this is real, and how are you so sure that I won’t go around telling everyone how you’ve gone crazy?” 

Laugh erupted from the older man – “You wouldn’t, Matthias. You’re kind.” 

His eyes widened. “No, I am not kind.” He inhaled his coffee and grabbed a scone.

He used the table as leverage. He held and pushed his chair out. The chair slid across the wooden floor, creating a scraping and creaking sound. It was grating, which mirrored how Matthias felt right now at this moment. 

“I know you don’t get it but could you please at least listen-”

“I understand your frustrations that you couldn’t tell anyone about these fantasies or craziness of yours. I understand that living in the church may drive one crazy. I won’t judge as it is not my position but at the moment you’re truly making me uncomfortable. I’d like to leave now.”

Before Chris could even utter another word, he was gone.

He slumped on the chair, looking at the ceiling which was made of wood.

He sighed.

The negotiation failed but he should never give up. Perhaps, he couldn’t see it but the numbers on the trumpet lit up in a white hue for a brief moment. 

It means Matthias is carrying The Seventh Trumpet. The Salvation. 

He clenched his fist, he’ll never give up.

He’ll convince him to join hands with him, to save this world —never will he allow for  another tragedy to repeat itself, the tragedy that took the life of his younger brother. 

Matthias stormed out of the place. His eyes were opened wide as he couldn't believe what just occurred. His footsteps were heavy.

The nun called out to him but he failed to hear – so focused on his inner turmoil. He doesn't care where he ends up, but he wants to be far away from this place. He'd rather not return to the orphanage for now. 

He walked aimlessly. He reached a garden where he saw a bench. He sat on it, looking at the fountain and families walking around. 

Talking to that priest put him in a foul mood for no reason. Perhaps, he was annoyed due to the man telling him about his own personality, as if he knew him better than he could. Perhaps it is also due to the fact that he knew he wasn't from this place. But the question that now bugs him, is how? 

The leaves rustled, and the flower danced with wind – representing his own inner feelings. In one hindsight – he felt exposed but in another hand, he felt happy to be seen. To be known that he wasn't from this era.

But the fact that a priest knew it? Was there something deeper about this? How much should he trust that priest? 

Questions, questions, never ending questions plagued his mind without answers. 

He looked at the sky. He let out gasp, noticing that the once bright-blue sky now gradually turned to yellowish-orange hue. It signalled that the evening was about to begin – and he was still outside. 

Most vendors have started to close their stalls. The busy area now began to quiet. Families are rushing back home, locking their doors. 

Matthias decided to do the same, he rushed back to the orphanage in hopes that he would make it in time for supper and not face Mama Nana's wrath. He shivered as he imagined being scolded. 

Perhaps lady luck was smiling at him today. When he opened the wooden door, it was silent.

The childrens’ muffled giggles and laughter faintly echoed – still in the back garden, playing. He continued to walk, the floor squeaking with every step he took. He managed to slip past without being noticed in his room. 

His messenger bag was placed on the hook behind the oak door, before he jumped on the bed. He sank on its softness, tired after all the events that took place today.

He changed— he wore a plain shirt and brown pants. He opened his door, scanning the area: he noticed the children now back inside the building. 

However, one seems missing. Janet. 

Mama Nana soon gathered the children to the table. She looked at him, urging him to help prepare the dinner. After dinner, the younger children did the cleanup of the kitchen and washing of the dishes. 

While Matthias wasn't close to Janet, they were almost the same age. She was one year younger. She was seventeen. He couldn't help but think if something happened to her. He sat in the chair in the living room area with Mama Nana, sipping tea, then he asked where Janet was.

Mama Nana smiled at him, “She just got adopted today. It was so sudden so I didn't have time to process the papers,” however it felt lukewarm.

It raised alarm bells off his head. He held the cup that contained his tea with both of his hands, placing it on his lap as he stared at her. 

He knows for sure that Janet did not want to get adopted – she wanted to live free, to never get adopted. To experience life by herself, to venture out the horizon and learn more about culture. 

Matthias’ gut felt off yet he couldn't put his fingers on it, which led to him frowning.

Mama Nana noticed the way he looked, uneasy, and untrusting just like how he was before. She laughed at his expression – sipping her coffee, then placing it on the table between them two. 

She spoke. “You remind me of how you looked when you first arrived here,” 

That grabbed Matthias’ attention. He looked at her directly, eyes filled with curiosity. What does she mean by that? 

She knew he was curious but she just sipped her tea. She refused to say more than one sentence, “You were cautious, like a fragile little cat.”

He could not help but feel alienated, yet nostalgic. It was a weird feeling that he wished he'd not feel again. It felt like merging with something, like something that he originally had – a memory was eaten away by this new persona in this era.

Flashbacks flashed through his head, as he stared in space —

He ran around, holding what appears to be a t-shirt that his mother washed. His mother playfully screamed at him, “--bring it back, come on! Mom has to wash those clothes!”

He couldn’t fathom what his mother just called him, it was static, as if his brain was unable to capture that certain word.

Was it being blocked by an unknown force or was he too young to really remember it? It looked so familiar, as if –

“Matthias?” 

He shook his head. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, sorry. A memory flashed in my head after you’ve said that,”

“Could you tell me more about it?”

“Sorry, Mama Nana. I completely forgot about it.”