Jamie remained still throughout the entire operation, standing where the shadows of the theatre seemed to gather most heavily around him. His eyes didn't blink, not even when the room filled with the sharp scent of antiseptic and bloodless precision. The doctors moved with trained urgency, but something about their rhythm wasn't entirely their own.
Invisible to every other eye in the room, Jamie's influence spread quietly through the air like a thought that didn't belong to anyone.
His dark magic threaded into their movements, gentle but absolute, guiding their hands, correcting their timing, steering every decision without a single spoken command. To anyone watching closely, it would look like flawless teamwork. In truth, it was control, silent, unseen, complete.
He didn't touch anything. He didn't need to.
Every instruction, every incision, every adjustment passed through him first before reaching them. The surgeons believed they were in charge of their actions, but the truth bent softly underneath Jamie's will. Even the monitors beeped in steady agreement, as though the room itself had learned obedience.
Aaron stood a little distance away, watching everything unfold with a stillness that didn't match the tension in his eyes. Something about Jamie felt distant today, almost unreal, like a figure standing slightly outside the world rather than inside it. Yet the operation continued flawlessly, too perfect to question, too precise to doubt.
Time seemed to stretch in that room. Minutes lost meaning. Only the steady rhythm of medical work remained.
When it was finally over, silence didn't come immediately. It lingered in fragments, the rustle of gloves being removed, the soft roll of equipment wheels, the cautious exhale of doctors who believed they had just completed something difficult under their own skill.
Jamie's gaze remained steady.
No celebration. No relief. Only quiet confirmation.
Then, without warning, the air shifted.
The same unseen force that had guided the operation began to move again, but this time inward. Subtle. Gentle. Like fingers brushing through memory itself. The doctors paused for only a second, barely noticeable, even to themselves.
In that second, everything changed.
What they remembered shifted into something cleaner, simpler. In their minds, Jamie stood at the center of the operation, directing calmly, giving instructions, overseeing every step while they assisted him under his guidance.
Nothing unusual. Nothing impossible. Just another brilliant surgeon doing what he always did.
The truth was folded away so neatly that even suspicion had no place to sit.
By the time Jamie released them, no one questioned anything.
No one remembered anything differently.
The operation became a story of teamwork led by one man they already admired.
Jamie turned away from the theatre without looking back.
The mayor was moved carefully out of the operating room soon after. The recovery unit felt quieter, colder in contrast to the intensity of what had just happened. Machines surrounded him like silent guardians, each one tracking life in numbers and lines that blinked without emotion.
His breathing was steady but fragile, as though sleep still held part of him hostage. Nurses adjusted his position gently, watching his chest rise and fall with careful attention. The smell of disinfectant lingered heavily in the air, mixing with the faint trace of medicine.
Outside the room, the hospital remained on alert.
The name "Mayor" carried weight here. Security presence increased without being asked. Doors were watched more closely. Conversations were shorter, more careful.
After some time, his condition stabilized enough for transfer. He was moved into a private intensive care unit, where the lighting was softer but the security was tighter. Guards positioned themselves outside the doors without speaking, their presence firm and constant.
Doctors confirmed what everyone needed to hear.
The surgery had succeeded.
But their expressions didn't relax.
The next few hours were described in careful words, critical, delicate, uncertain. The kind of hours where silence mattered more than speech.
Aaron's attention, however, was no longer in the operating wing.
It followed Jamie.
Jamie moved through the corridor like someone who already knew the end of the day. No rush in his steps. No hesitation. Just quiet certainty that pulled him forward.
Aaron's eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed something odd, Jamie's wrist was bare. No watch. No visible marker of time. Just skin and movement. For a moment, Aaron's brow creased.
His hand slid into his pocket, pulling out his phone almost unconsciously.
The screen lit up.
1:30 p.m.
A slow breath left him, heavier than expected, as though the number itself carried meaning he didn't want to name. His grip tightened slightly around the device before he slipped it away.
Too early.
Far too early for someone like Jamie to leave.
That thought settled uncomfortably in his chest.
Inside the hospital walls were people who depended on routine, on presence, on certainty. Patients who would rather wait endlessly than trust another hand. Some of them spoke Jamie's name like it was part of their treatment. Others believed recovery itself came from his attention.
The idea of him leaving like this didn't sit right.
It felt unfinished. Unbalanced.
Aaron's posture shifted. Decision formed quickly, sharply.
Without waiting for explanation, he moved.
His pace turned into a run as he cut through the corridor, ignoring the way staff turned their heads in surprise. The hospital's usual calm broke slightly as he passed,papers paused mid-hand, conversations fading into silence for a second too long.
He didn't slow down.
The exit doors came into view.
Then the garage.
Jamie was already there. the car stood waiting like it had been part of his plan long before anyone else noticed. He was just about to step inside when Aaron arrived, breath slightly uneven, urgency still clinging to his expression.
Jamie paused. A slight tilt of his head followed, eyes narrowing faintly as if measuring the interruption rather than reacting to it.
"Sir… leaving so soon?" Aaron's voice carried the tension of someone trying to understand something that didn't make sense.
Jamie's expression shifted. Not anger at first, just irritation, quiet and controlled, like a door being gently closed.
"Any problem, Aaron?"
The tone alone carried weight. Not loud. Not sharp. But enough to make the air feel heavier.
A brief silence followed.Then Jamie opened the car door.
"Let's go for a drive."
He slid into the driver's seat as if the decision had already been made long before the moment arrived. One hand rested lightly on the wheel. The other adjusted nothing. He simply waited.
Aaron didn't move at first.
His gaze flicked back toward the hospital. A war of thoughts played briefly across his face. duty, confusion, instinct, obedience.
"But sir… the patients…"
The words fell apart halfway through. His voice lost strength as uncertainty took over. His eyes dropped slightly, then lifted again toward Jamie.
The engine started. A low hum filled the silence.
Jamie didn't look back.The sound of the ignition carried a quiet finality. Aaron's hesitation broke.
He stepped forward and got inside.
The car pulled away.
The hospital slowly disappeared behind them, along with everything familiar, responsibility, routine, expectation. The road ahead felt less like direction and more like uncertainty taking shape.
Inside the car, silence settled between them.
Aaron sat still, eyes forward but unfocused, as if trying to understand the decision that had just been made without him.
Then his phone rang.
The vibration cut through the silence sharply. He looked at the screen. Little Jamie.
His eyes flicked sideways toward Jamie in the driver's seat, hesitation tightening his expression. For a brief moment, it looked like he was asking permission without words.
Finally, he answered.
"Hey princess."
The word slipped out lightly at first.
A pause followed.
A shift in tone came from the other end.
"Princess?"
"Of course, princess. Or are you now the queen?"
A slight tension entered the car.
Jamie's eyes shifted subtly toward Aaron, curiosity sharpening his gaze.
"It's just strange hearing you call me that," the voice continued. "What happened to Little Jamie? That's what you usually call me."
Jamie's fingers tightened faintly on the steering wheel.
"Little Jamie?" The name left his mouth slowly, testing it, weighing it. His expression darkened slightly with interest. "Seems you've got a sister, Aaron. One you never mentioned… and apparently one you call by my name. That's… strange."
A pause followed.
Heavy. uncomfortable. Aaron's grip on the phone tightened.
"Is that Brother Jamie?"
The voice on the line softened immediately.
"Hello, brother."
Before the words could settle fully, Aaron's face changed. Something closed off in his expression, sharp, immediate. The call ended abruptly.
"I'll call you back."
The words were flat. Final.
The phone went dark in his hand.
Silence returned, thicker than before.
Then,
"Pull over."
The command cut through the air sharply.
Jamie slowed the car without argument. Tires rolled softly against the roadside until the vehicle came to a stop.
Engine idled.
Neither of them moved for a moment.
Aaron turned slowly, anger rising in his expression like something finally breaking loose.
"You want to know who Little Jamie is?"
His voice carried weight now, sharper than before.
"That's your sister, Rebecca. I call her Little Jamie because she looks just like you… your replica, even as a girl."
His jaw tightened.
A pause followed, but it didn't soften him.
"But right now, I take it back. She's nothing like you. Because I don't even know what you are anymore."
"What the hell is going on?" Jamie muttered under his breath.
"Did I miss something?" he asked himself again, eyes narrowing as he tried to piece together the confusion unfolding before him.
"You know what? I'm ending this conversation now. You don't know me. And judging by everything, you either don't remember who you are… or you're deliberately acting like you don't."
"Before I go, let me remind you what happened," he said quietly. "You're my best friend. Your sister, Rebecca, was hospitalized, and we needed money for her treatment. That was why we agreed to rob a supermarket. It went wrong, completely wrong. The police were already onto us."
He paused, his jaw tightening as the memory settled.
"You told me to run with the money we had, said it would all be pointless if we were both caught. So I ran, and while doing so the cop aimed at me but you ended up being shot.
I watched as the police carried your lifeless body away, or so I believed at the time. But you were never found in any hospital across Chicago, nor in any police records I searched through afterward. It was as though you had vanished without a trace.
And then, unexpectedly, your name surfaced again. Not in missing persons reports or investigations, but on the news, this time attached to a completely different identity. You were alive. Thriving. A renowned medical doctor in New York City.
Aaron's voice rose with every word, sharp with frustration and barely contained anger.
"Do you have any idea what I went through?"
he said, pacing slightly as he spoke.
"Your popularity in Chicago alone was something else. I had to keep Rebecca from watching television… I even restricted her screen just so she wouldn't see her brother, so she wouldn't find out I lied to her about you being away on a business trip."
He let out a bitter breath, shaking his head.
"For four years, I covered for you. Four years of maintaining that lie. And even after I finally met you again, you still denied everything, day after day, acting like you don't even know me."
"I'm done"
"Yes, you're done," Jamie said calmly, his voice carrying a cold finality. "And considering this body is the only host I can possess while I'm on Earth, I'm truly sorry it has to end this way."
He paused briefly, almost as if reflecting, before continuing.
"I can't afford to keep you around interfering with my plans. It's unfortunate… especially since you were once his best friend,though that, frankly, is nonsense."
Leaving Aaron in the wake of his confusion, Jamie said nothing more. He simply started the engine.
The car lurched forward, then accelerated, smooth at first, then with an unsettling insistence, as though restraint no longer mattered. Aaron turned toward him, alarm sharpening in his voice as he urged him to slow down, to stop, to explain what was happening.
Jamie did neither. The speed only increased.
The road blurred at the edges, streetlights streaking past like fractured lines of gold against the growing tension inside the vehicle. Aaron's protests rose, more urgent now, but they seemed to fall into emptiness, swallowed by the roar of the engine and Jamie's unwavering focus ahead.
And still, he drove.
No hesitation. No correction.
Until the car crossed the final stretch of road and went beyond it.
The bridge appeared too late.
Metal met air, and for a brief, suspended moment, the vehicle left the world it was meant to stay within, plunging forward into uncertainty as gravity took hold.
"Veyrath Noctis… hide me in shadow. Jamie muttered as he disappeared leaving Aaron to crash alone