Pain had a way of reminding you that you were still alive.
Ethan felt it in every breath.
Every small movement.
Every heartbeat.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
No guards inside.
Just one door.
Locked.
Always locked.
He lay still on the narrow bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the silence settle.
Listening.
Counting.
Waiting.
Three days.
That's how long it had been since he woke up.
Three days of pretending.
Pretending to be weaker than he actually was.
Pretending to still be recovering.
Pretending to accept it.
But Ethan had never been good at staying still.
A faint sound echoed outside the door.
Footsteps.
Two people.
Regular pattern.
Routine.
He had memorized that too.
The door opened.
A guard stepped in, followed by the same girl from before.
She carried a small tray.
Food.
Water.
Bandages.
"You're awake," she said.
Ethan didn't respond.
He watched.
Observed.
Measured.
The guard stayed near the door.
Careful.
Alert.
Good.
That meant they were still cautious.
The girl placed the tray down.
"You need to eat."
Silence.
Ethan slowly sat up this time.
No hesitation.
No struggle.
The girl noticed immediately.
Her eyes narrowed.
"You're healing faster than expected."
Ethan picked up the water.
Drank.
Calm.
"You're letting me live," he said finally.
The guard shifted slightly.
The girl didn't react.
"Why?" Ethan continued.
A pause.
Then—
"Because you matter to her."
Ethan's grip tightened slightly.
"So this is leverage."
"Yes."
At least they were honest.
That made things easier.
Ethan set the cup down slowly.
"And if I stop cooperating?"
"You die."
Simple.
Direct.
Ethan nodded slightly.
"Good to know."
Silence fell again.
Then—
It happened fast.
Too fast.
Ethan moved.
The tray flew toward the guard.
Metal clattered.
Water spilled.
The guard reacted—
But too late.
Ethan was already there.
Despite the pain—
Despite the injury—
He didn't hesitate.
One strike.
Precise.
The guard dropped.
The girl stepped back instantly.
Shocked.
"You shouldn't have done that," she said sharply.
Ethan grabbed the guard's weapon.
Pointed it.
Steady.
"Open the door."
Her eyes flickered.
Calculating.
"You won't make it out."
"Not your problem."
Silence.
Then slowly—
She stepped toward the control panel.
"Left corridor leads to security," she said quietly.
"Right leads deeper inside."
Ethan didn't lower the weapon.
"Which one is she?"
The girl hesitated.
Just for a second.
"…deeper."
That was all he needed.
The door unlocked.
Ethan moved without another word.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Only one goal.
Find her.
Meanwhile—
Far below—
Maya stood in a room filled with screens.
Each one showing something different.
People.
Memories.
Fragments of lives.
Her ability had evolved.
Grown.
Expanded.
Now—
She didn't need direct contact.
Sometimes—
All she needed was focus.
A connection.
A trigger.
"Impressive," the man in black said from behind her.
Maya didn't turn.
"What do you want?"
He stepped closer.
"To show you something."
She remained still.
"Turn around."
Slowly—
Maya did.
He held out a file.
Thicker than the others.
Heavier.
"This is your next step."
Maya took it.
Opened it.
And froze.
Inside—
Were multiple photos.
Of the same person.
Ethan.
Her heart skipped—
But her face didn't change.
"You want me to read him," she said flatly.
"Yes."
Silence.
"That's unnecessary," she added.
"No," he said calmly.
"It's essential."
Maya closed the file slowly.
"You don't trust me."
He smiled faintly.
With a smirk on his face
"We trust results."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the file.
Inside—
Her heart was racing.
But outside—
She was calm.
Controlled.
"Fine," she said.
But deep down—
She already knew.
If she touched Ethan again—
Nothing would be the same.