Nathan's eyes were still wide open.
His head throbbed.
His forehead burned while the back of his skull felt like it was being crushed inward.
His eyelids trembled—as if they were trying to kiss each other.
A poetic representation of a mind collapsing under the weight of incomprehensible information.
"I…"
His body sagged.
"Don't…"
The Tower Manager smiled.
"Understand."
Nathan's eyelids finally met—sealed in a tender, defeated kiss.
He collapsed to the side, curling up like a fetus drifting within the womb of broken consciousness.
The Tower Manager knelt beside him.
She took his hand gently, then eased the back of his head onto her left palm— like she was cradling a corrupted saint.
Her black lips still curled into a smile.
Her right hand floated slowly toward Nathan's face.
She gripped his cheek—firm, unhesitating—
molding his lips into the shape of a fish freshly yanked out of divine water.
"How adorable," she muttered,
shaking his face softly.
