Act VI – Chapter 18: "It'll Be Okay"
The bedroom door closed behind them at last, muffling the last echoes of laughter in the hallway. The room was plunged into semi‑darkness, lit only by the small bedside lamp and the hallway fluorescents filtering under the door.
Leo slowly slid the lock. Gwen stayed standing for a moment, her plastered arm pressed against her, the rigid bandage around her ribs forcing her to keep her back straight. She limped slightly as she moved toward the bed.
Without a word, Leo approached from behind. He gently wrapped his arms around her waist, avoiding the injured area, and pressed his lips to her neck. Gwen closed her eyes, a long trembling sigh escaping her throat. She let herself melt against him, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of her hospital gown.
He turned her gently and kissed her. The kiss started tender, almost cautious because of her injuries, then grew deeper, hungrier. Their mouths devoured each other as if they were afraid the outside world would return too quickly.
Leo carefully lifted her, one arm under her bottom, the other supporting her back. He laid her on the bed, lay down beside her, and slid the gown down her body with an almost reverent slowness. Gwen shivered when the cool air brushed her bare skin.
He kissed every accessible patch of skin: the hollow of her neck, the swell of her breasts, her stomach that contracted with every ragged breath. His hands explored gently, avoiding painful areas, but claiming everything else.
Gwen slid her good hand under his shirt, caressing his chest. From the tips of her fingers, tiny blue sparks danced on his skin. Leo jolted violently with pleasure, a rough growl rising from his throat.
"Gwen…"
"Leo…"
She smiled against his lips and continued, letting the tiny electric discharges run over his abs, then lower, until he shivered all over.
He quickly got rid of his clothes and returned to her. With one hand, he gently spread her thighs. He entered her slowly, savoring every centimeter. Gwen tilted her head back, her mouth open on a silent sigh. The sensation of him, thick and burning, filling her completely, was exactly what she needed.
They moved together in a deep, steady rhythm. No rush. Just heat, friction, intertwined breaths. Every thrust was a relief, a silent affirmation that they were alive, together, despite everything.
The sparks on Gwen's fingers became more frequent. Leo sped up slightly, breath ragged. Their bodies softly slammed against each other. Tension rose, heavy, delicious.
When orgasm hit them, it was almost at the same time.
Gwen arched, a long strangled moan escaping her throat as her body contracted violently around him. The room lights flickered furiously. Leo groaned her name as he sank in one last time deeply, climaxing with force.
The main bulb exploded in a small audible "pop," plunging the room into darkness, lit only by the hallway light under the door.
Silence.
Then they burst out laughing at the same time, breathless, clinging to each other.
Leo pressed his forehead against hers, still shaken by little spasms of pleasure.
"You really do quite well for an injured person…" he murmured, voice rough and amused.
Gwen smiled in the dark, her good hand lazily caressing his back.
"And you always do just as well without your accessories."
Leo chuckled softly before kissing her tenderly on the lips. He withdrew carefully, lay down beside her, and pulled her against him, being careful of her cast and ribs. Gwen snuggled against his chest, her head nestled under his chin, her leg slipped between his.
The sparks on her fingers had almost disappeared, leaving only tiny pleasant tingles on Leo's skin.
In the darkness, their breaths gradually slowed. Fatigue, emotion, and pleasure settled like a warm blanket.
Leo kissed the top of her head.
"Asleep?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes were already closed, her body completely relaxed against his.
A few minutes later, they fell asleep peacefully, enfolded in each other's arms, as if the rest of the world no longer existed.
February 2021
In the web, a girl was crying.
Cries no one could hear, drowned in data flows, masked by the constant hum of servers.
She had survived the purge of the Zero Program.
Saved at the last moment, mortally wounded by debris. She had appeared without any explanation in Switzerland, in the middle of a hospital, on the very day of the purge in 2019. A doctor, seeing the emergency, couldn't bear to let a poor young girl die before his eyes. Despite the hierarchy opposing saving an unknown person without papers, he and several colleagues agreed. They operated on her in an emergency. Her life had been saved by miracle, but she fell into a two‑week coma.
When she woke up, doctors came to check her condition. When she saw their white coats, terror overwhelmed her. She ran away as fast as she could, until she spotted an electrical outlet. She dematerialized into it. The doctors never found her again.
She plunged into the web, terrified at the idea of new scientists showing up.
This girl had no name. She knew nothing of the world. So she learned.
Without any authority figure, she discovered humanity through the Internet, navigating from server to server with natural ease. But she didn't just see human kindness. Quite the opposite. She explored all layers of the web—from toxic forums to the depths of the dark web where unspeakable crimes took place.
Convinced by the justice of the animes and crime novels she devoured, she started hunting criminals on the web. Traffickers, rapists, pedophiles. She made no distinctions. She coldly shot them down, without trial. But for every head that fell, another grew back. How many monsters had she killed? What had it changed? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She gradually fell into a deep depression after two long years of trying to become a vigilante who, in the end, could change nothing. She ended up generalizing about humans and praying for their extinction.
One day, in an act of desperate hope, she located the 13 survivors of the Zero Program. She cross‑referenced logs, news, and in the middle of all that, she found a name: Noah. The one who had saved her from the purge. Despite the security, she had no trouble locating him. So she came out, with a determined step, filled with hope of finding her savior.
But when she put one foot outside… she panicked. The world terrified her. She had spent two years in the web without going out. Trembling and in tears, she gave up and locked herself back into the data.
She cried. She screamed. She hated herself. She wasn't strong enough to eliminate crime in the world, and not strong enough to face the outside.
In October 2021, the first AI was developed. She talked with it, happy to have a bit of support. But she was quickly disappointed to realize that these "friends" almost never contradicted her. Deep down, she still felt alone. But it was better than nothing.
One day, scrolling through traces of the 13 Program survivors, her attention focused on a girl with silver hair and azure blue eyes. At her side, a big brother smiling despite the misery of the slums. That boy's name was Leo. He had only one dream: to become a superhero.
They were poor, taken in by a sick woman barely in her thirties named Maria. She observed their life through street cameras, webcams. Their moments of joy and pain. Sometimes, Leo got roughed up by other teens from the neighborhood. He was taller than average for his age. They called him "The Hero" because he insisted on wanting to become a superhero, even in front of thugs older than him.
Sometimes, his little mute sister followed close behind, ready to fight to protect him. The thugs always calmed down when she was there, despite her small frame. Yet Leo positioned himself as the protector.
Gwen watched the scene with stars in her eyes. She kept telling Leo's adventures to the AIs to pass the time. This weak boy who protected a little girl a thousand times stronger than him… She said he was like Arthur refusing to draw Excalibur.
Leo didn't even know she existed. Yet, at every moment, she was there, somewhere. Seeing him refuse his weakness slowly inspired her. She forced herself to come out, for the day she would be ready to meet him.
A playmate asked her what her favorite color was. He looked at his little mute sister, proud of having made a castle in the sandbox. Her azure blue eyes shone. He answered then:
"My favorite color is blue."
The girl in the web heard him. She smiled. Then, even though she wasn't old enough, she stole some dye and dyed her hair blue. It wasn't perfect, some roots stayed black, but she was happy looking at herself in the mirror.
"Am I pretty?" she thought, looking at her green eyes and new blue hair. She was proud of herself. Then she asked an AI who Arthur's princess was. The AI answered that Arthur's princess was named Gwenhwyfar, which meant "white ghost."
She hesitated.
"That sounds old…"
Then she decided:
"Then I'll call myself Gwen."
January 2024, in the middle of New Year's.
She revealed herself to him. After a small conflict with Don Javier's mafia henchmen, he was accompanied by a brown‑haired boy and his silver‑haired sister. She appeared before him, having partially overcome her phobia of the outside. She was shaking like a leaf, but seeing him for the first time.
"My name is Gwen," she said.
Back to the present.
Leo woke up with a start, body slick with sweat, a rough scream tearing through his throat.
His breathing was ragged, choppy, as if he were suffocating. A panic attack, brutal, uncontrollable.
Gwen's good hand gently wrapped around him, her warm fingers against his moist skin. Eyes closed, she pressed against his bare back, her steady breath like an anchor.
"Los Angeles…" he gasped, lungs on fire.
He breathed more slowly. His hand slid over Gwen's, who sat up behind him.
Then he collapsed. Knees on the floor, face forward, shoulders shaken by sobs he could no longer hold back.
He turned toward her, out of breath. Gwen placed her hand against his cheek, her thumb wiping a tear that was running, burning, down his skin.
"I kept my promise…" he sobbed, voice broken, childlike. "I killed no one… I'm a good boy…"
He collapsed completely, head on Gwen's lap, tears flooding the sheet. His body trembled, shaken by painful hiccups, as if each sob ripped a piece of his soul away.
"It'll be okay… I'm here," she murmured, voice soft, almost sing‑song.
She stroked his head slowly, her fingers running through his wet hair, like reassuring a child lost in the night.
Each caress was a silent promise: I hold you, you don't fall.
Leo didn't kill.
Maria, before dying, had recited the Bible to him, over and over, until the words imprinted in his mind like a carved oath: "Thou shalt not kill." He and his sister had respected that commandment to the letter, like a sacred law. He wanted to be a hero. But the street had other plans for him. No one to protect him from this world. He broke his enemies… but he himself was broken.
To be continued.