Juson left the colony behind without looking back. The quiet residential streets gradually gave way to the wider main road, where the early morning traffic had only just begun to gather. A few delivery vans rolled lazily toward the market district, motorcycles slipped between lanes with practiced ease, and scattered pedestrians crossed the road with the unhurried rhythm that belonged only to mornings before the city reached full speed. None of it truly registered in Juson's mind. His hands rested loosely upon the steering wheel, yet his attention remained fractured, repeatedly drifting toward the rearview mirror. Every few seconds his eyes lifted instinctively, searching the empty road behind him as though expecting another vehicle to emerge from the distance. He had already left Hakiten's house, yet the feeling of being followed refused to disappear. The strange silence inside that house, the broken furniture, the scattered blue grains, and the nightmare that had awakened him on the floor lingered stubbornly inside his thoughts, refusing to loosen their grip.
The sudden vibration from the dashboard interrupted the restless cycle of memories. Juson's eyes shifted downward and landed upon his mobile phone, lying exactly where he had forgotten it the previous evening before rushing into Hakiten's house. The screen glowed softly inside the dim interior of the car before vibrating again with another short buzz. Frowning, he leaned forward, picked it up, and unlocked the display with a quick movement of his thumb. Two missed calls appeared immediately, both carrying the same name. Yokina. The moment he saw it, an uneasy feeling tightened around his chest. Yokina rarely called repeatedly unless something had happened. Without thinking further, Juson lowered the phone onto the passenger seat and pressed harder against the accelerator. The engine answered instantly, carrying the car forward with renewed urgency as the quiet streets blurred past the windows.
Several intersections ahead, the car swept past a small roadside restaurant whose glass entrance reflected the pale morning sunlight. Juson barely noticed the building as he drove by, but someone standing outside noticed him. A man remained motionless beside the entrance with a compact black suitcase hanging quietly from one hand. The suitcase looked unusually small, almost the size of something intended for a child rather than an adult traveller. He watched Juson's vehicle disappear around the corner without changing expression, then waited a few more seconds before calmly pushing open the restaurant door. A small brass bell suspended above the entrance chimed softly as he stepped inside, its gentle sound disappearing beneath the faint murmur of conversation and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with burnt cooking oil. Only a handful of customers occupied the room, each absorbed in their own breakfast, leaving long stretches of empty tables between them. At the far end of the restaurant, another man raised his eyes toward the entrance as though he had been expecting exactly this arrival.
The newcomer approached without unnecessary haste and stopped beside the table. Only then did he remove the dark glasses covering his eyes. A moment later, he slipped away the medical mask concealing the lower half of his face. Beneath it appeared the familiar features of the same doctor who had examined Herik only hours earlier inside the hospital. He placed the small black suitcase carefully beside his chair before lowering himself into the seat opposite the waiting man. Neither of them spoke immediately. The silence between them carried none of the awkwardness common between strangers. It felt practiced, deliberate, almost routine. Finally, after several long moments, the other man leaned back slightly in his chair and broke the silence with quiet indifference.
"You're late."
The doctor offered neither apology nor explanation. Instead, he rested one hand lightly upon the surface of the black suitcase, almost protectively, before answering in a calm voice. "I brought something better this time."
Tiny droplets of condensation clung to the dark exterior of the suitcase, giving it the appearance of something recently removed from intense cold. The man's eyes lingered upon it briefly before he reached calmly inside his coat and withdrew a thick bundle of neatly bound cash. Without drawing attention from the other customers, he slid the money across the table beneath the shelter of one hand. The doctor accepted it immediately, his fingers closing around the bundle with practiced efficiency before gently pushing the suitcase toward the other man. Their movements remained smooth and quiet, as though every part of the exchange had been rehearsed countless times before.
"Six months old," the doctor said.
The man showed almost no reaction. His expression remained perfectly controlled as he asked only one question.
"How many?"
"Twelve."
Without another word, the man released the catches securing the suitcase and lifted the lid only a few centimetres. Whatever rested inside remained hidden from everyone else in the restaurant. He looked for only an instant before closing it again with complete satisfaction. Meanwhile, the doctor lowered his eyes toward the bundle of money and began counting it rapidly beneath the table. His fingers moved with remarkable speed until, almost imperceptibly, his expression darkened. The payment was short. Not by much, but enough for him to notice immediately. Even so, he said nothing. By the time he finished counting, the other man had already risen from his chair, lifted the suitcase once more, and walked quietly toward the exit without offering another word. The conversation had ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving the doctor sitting alone beside the untouched cup of coffee.
Outside, a sudden blast of a car horn shattered the quiet rhythm of the street as a vehicle sped through the intersection. The sound echoed briefly between the surrounding buildings before fading into the distance. It was Juson's car. Unaware of the meeting taking place only metres away, he turned sharply into his own neighbourhood and finally eased his foot from the accelerator. The familiar streets returned around him, and within moments he guided the vehicle toward the front of his house. The tyres squealed softly as the brakes caught, bringing the car to a smooth stop beneath the morning light.
Inside the kitchen, Yokina heard the sound almost immediately. She abandoned the breakfast still cooking quietly on the stove without bothering to lower the flame and hurried toward the front entrance, her footsteps echoing faintly through the hallway. By the time Juson stepped out of the driver's seat, she had already unlocked the door and reached the front path. She said nothing. The instant she stood before him, she wrapped both arms tightly around him with a desperation that caught him completely off guard. Juson froze where he stood, too surprised to react at first. Yokina almost never embraced him without reason, much less with such urgency. For several silent seconds he remained motionless, uncertain whether to ask questions or simply let the moment pass. Eventually, almost awkwardly, he raised one arm and rested it gently across her shoulders.
"What happened?" he asked quietly.
Yokina tried to answer immediately, but the words dissolved beneath a sudden wave of emotion. Tears interrupted her before a full sentence could form. She buried her face against his shoulder once again, struggling to regain enough composure to speak. When she finally managed it, only a single name escaped her lips.
"Wanna."
The effect upon Juson was immediate. His expression hardened as every memory from the previous night returned with startling clarity.
"What happened to her?"
Yokina slowly stepped back, wiping hurriedly at her eyes before forcing herself to continue. "She called me... she's in the hospital."
The words settled heavily between them. Instantly, Hakiten's house rose again inside Juson's thoughts. The broken entrance. The silent rooms. The ambulance he had watched driving through the night. None of it felt like coincidence anymore. Without wasting another moment standing outside, he gently urged Yokina back toward the house. She nodded silently, and together they crossed the doorway into the familiar hallway. The house felt warm after the cool morning air outside, carrying the faint smell of breakfast drifting from the kitchen.
Both of them stopped almost immediately.
Standing quietly near the bedroom doorway was Herik.
He said nothing.
He simply watched them.