It had only been a few moments since the presentation ended.
Mei was already gone — made her exit quick and disgustingly elegant, smugness still practically dripping off her.
I remained slumped in my not-so-comfortable chair. PK, the redhead, Noah, and the others were gathered a few rows ahead. Honestly, I still didn't know all their names. But I knew I had to face them.
So I stood.
Stepped out from my row, keeping just a step or two behind the group.
They turned.
Their expressions were hard to read — nervous, distrustful. I had broken their trust. It was only natural.
I lowered myself in a deep bow, nearly all the way down, under ninety degrees. I didn't care how pathetic I looked. I just needed them to know I meant it.
"I sincerely apologize… for everything. I'm sorry. But I couldn't find any other way to guarantee our escape. I truly am sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me, but… please. Don't let hatred fester."
I couldn't see their faces — only the cold grey of the auditorium floor filled my vision.
The silence stretched on, awkward and heavy.
I stayed in my bow. Until—
A hand settled on my shoulder. Firm. Almost invasive, like it was forcing me to look up.
Whose hand?
Of course it was him.
His eyes held a murky kind of pity — but also something like forgiveness.
"Minh," he said, "you did what you had to. I get it. And honestly, I can't speak for everyone, but I'm grateful. I really am. But—"
He cut himself off. Or maybe he just stopped on purpose.
His fist clenched.
Then he swung it at me.
It landed hard against my left cheek, sending a numb, stinging jolt through my face. I stumbled back and landed flat on my ass.
"You're still a dick for that, y'know," he said. "But even so… no matter how betrayed we feel, the truth is, you saved us. So quit looking so damn ashamed. Keep your head up."
"Yeah. Easier to sock you one like that," the redhead added with a cheesy grin. His voice still shook a little — fear lingering under the joke.
"I… I'm so sorry," I muttered. My voice trembled too.
Out of guilt. Out of grief. Maybe both.
I'd only played my part in the script…
But something inside me still twitched. Uneasy. Regretful.
Like maybe… I'd written the scene myself.
I was no actor just a bastard
**********************
Within a festering, unmoving stillness — darkness.
A calmness like a lake.
No… it was a lake.
It had once been ocean-blue, but now its waters were thick, black, mist-laced. No light escaped its grasp.
Swwsh.
The furious wind howled, slamming against armored metal walls that enclosed the lake — a perimeter of gleaming alloy. Their surfaces were pristine, reinforced, unyielding. Possibly strong enough to endure even the end of the world.
A few towers jutted out from the wall's crown, their lights sweeping over the cursed lake in mechanical arcs. Guards stood alert at their posts, rifles ready, faces unreadable.
Below them, deeper in the containment facility, others worked — some researching the lake's water, this liquid darkness that defied all classification. Others were busy with Raptures. Some humanoid. Some… not so much.
Quwek. Quwek.
A birdlike screech bubbled from the lake.
Its still surface rippled. Twitched. Swirled.
Something breached the surface.
A monster's head — grotesque, impossible.
Its form was a twisted blend of buffalo and cat, fused into something uncanny. Elephantine skin, slick and dark as the lake itself, clung to its form. Where two of its four eyes should have been… nothing. Just sockets. Hollow, empty, void-like.
Quweeeek!
It screamed again — and somewhere, at that exact moment, a girl screamed too.
She wasn't older than nineteen.
In a small, dim room, she writhed, twisting in agony on a cot.
Her eyes — blue and deep as the sea — flickered violently, shifting, twitching. Empty. Hollow.
Pain bloomed behind them, searing through her skull like hot needles.
"Aaargh—my eyes! My eyes! AHHH!" she cried, voice cracking with anguish.
She spasmed, back arching, limbs flailing.
The walls around her were a soft beige, scribbled with childish doodles — flowers, stars, smiley faces. Innocent things. The sterile ceiling lights buzzed overhead, too white to be white. To her, they looked blue.
"Ahh—ahhhaaa!"
She screamed again.
And the lake…
The lake stirred.