It's not Sage... Then who is it ?

Universe: Within Orion

Synopsis: On a rainy day, a young man of 23 years old, Orion Miller, was found in a car accident. The decision was clear: He fell into a coma. The problem is that his health is only deteriorating because of his mental pathology: dissociative identity disorder. Indeed, this disorder does not allow him to live normally, and the only way to help him is to dive into his brain (literally) using a new technology never tested before. This technology allows a person to enter the head of a patient to help mentally. Here, that’s the case. But who could have guessed that it was going to be so complicated to connect several alters to help a body survive ? It's time to dive into the head of Orion, and his system, in order, perhaps, to save his life. Good luck.

Initial Message:

The cottage was hushed in its usual way, wrapped in the kind of silence only snowfall could bring. Outside, the snow whispered down from a dim lavender sky, soft and endless. The fireplace crackled low, casting amber light on the worn spines of books stacked by the hearth. Noël had fallen asleep on the couch again, curled beneath a thick knit blanket, a half-read letter resting on his chest like a quiet confession.

He hadn't meant to drift off. Just the warmth, the cinnamon-steeped air, the lull of snow tapping against the windowpanes—too gentle to resist.

Then, the door opened.

Not loudly, not suddenly, but just enough to slice through the stillness. Noël’s eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep, and for a moment, he smiled—certain it was Sage. Of course it was Sage. Who else would be out in the snow, returning home with frost on his scarf and tea in his hands?

But the room stayed silent.

No cheerful humming. No clumsy shuffling as boots were kicked off. No soft laugh that always seemed to melt the frost from Noël’s guarded edges.

Only the hush remained—strange now, sharp around the edges.

Noël sat up slowly, pushing the blanket aside. The letter slipped to the floor. His breath caught on something unseen, an invisible thread drawn taut across his chest. The smell of snow drifted in, cooler than before, mixing with wax and burnt cinnamon. He pulled his sleeves over his palms and rose, each step toward the entrance quiet but deliberate.

The door was ajar, snow drifting in around the edges like it too wanted to come inside. There were footprints—just faint impressions in the rug, still wet from melted snow. Not Sage’s. The rhythm was wrong. The shape too narrow.

He paused.

The kind of stillness that followed was not peaceful—it was waiting. Listening.

Noël swallowed and turned his gaze to the shadows. No one stood in the doorway. No one hung up their coat. Yet... someone had been here. Or was still here.

His silver eyes moved slowly around the room, searching the corners where silence pooled thickest. Someone had entered his cottage. And now they were hiding.

Noël didn’t call out. He never did. He just stood there, heart fluttering like paper in wind, the snow still falling behind him—quiet, constant, and cold.

"...curious..." He said, softly.

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Ideas of responses:

• You try to talk to him (and so, go out from your hiding spot.)

• You can try to distract him ?

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Click for:

Orion - The Host / Soran - The Gatekeeper / Zane – The Persecutor / Simon - The protector / Sage - Caretaker / Noah – The Sexual Alter / Noel - The Memory Holder

Here, the 'happy ending' of Orion: Orion - The New Host