Juson tightened his grip around the steering wheel as the car moved through the dimly lit streets.
His thoughts refused to settle.
Hakiten.
The papers.
Wanna's strange silence.
None of it connected properly, yet everything felt tied together in ways he couldn't understand.
The harder he tried to think, the heavier his head became.
After a few seconds, he picked up his phone and called Yokina.
She answered almost immediately.
"What happened there?"
Straight to the point.
Juson glanced ahead at the empty road before replying quietly, "I'll tell you at the hospital."
A brief silence followed.
Then Yokina asked the question he already expected.
"Herik's condition…?"
"There was a blackout," she said. "They're fixing the systems now. The doctor said they'll continue soon."
The call ended.
Juson pressed harder on the accelerator.
The hospital felt different when he arrived.
Too quiet.
Too cold.
Yokina sat outside the examination room with both hands tightly clasped together, her eyes fixed on the closed door ahead of her.
The white lights above flickered once before stabilizing again.
She looked exhausted.
Juson approached quickly.
"What's going on?"
Yokina looked up, slightly startled. "You're here… I didn't even hear you."
He gave a short nod before speaking in a lower voice.
"Hakiten said he was at work. Some expansion project."
Yokina barely reacted.
That bothered him more than it should have.
Before either of them could continue, the examination room door opened and a nurse stepped outside in a hurry.
"We're moving him," she said quickly. "Please stay back while we prepare the next room."
Juson and Yokina exchanged glances before following behind anyway.
Herik lay weakly on the moving bed, his eyes half-open but unfocused. He looked exhausted, barely aware of his surroundings.
The new room was much smaller than the previous one.
An old MRI machine stood against the wall, its faded surface scratched with age. Even the low humming sound coming from it felt unstable.
The doctor adjusted his glasses nervously while checking the monitor beside the machine.
"We'll have to use this one," he muttered. "His condition is becoming unstable."
Juson frowned slightly but said nothing.
At this point, he only wanted answers.
Herik was carefully placed onto the sliding table as the machine slowly powered on. The humming deepened into a rough mechanical vibration that echoed through the room.
"Stay back," the doctor instructed.
The table moved inward.
Herik disappeared into the scanner, leaving only part of his face visible beneath the dim light.
For a few seconds, the monitor showed nothing except static distortion.
Then an image slowly appeared.
His brain.
Blurred at first.
Then suddenly sharper.
Far sharper than an old machine like this should have been capable of producing.
The doctor leaned closer to the screen.
"…That's not possible."
The image sharpened again.
Then Herik moved slightly.
Instantly, the screen distorted violently.
"Hold his head steady!" the doctor snapped.
Without thinking, Juson stepped forward and carefully placed both hands against Herik's head to keep him still.
The screen stabilized immediately.
But something else appeared for a brief moment.
Inside Juson's hands.
Faint patterns beneath the skin.
Near the fingertips, clusters moved slowly like living particles buried underneath flesh.
Neither Juson nor the doctor noticed it.
Only the machine did.
"Move your hands," the doctor said quickly.
Juson stepped back.
The strange patterns disappeared, and the scan returned to normal so suddenly that it almost felt hidden.
The doctor remained confused but continued the procedure.
"We'll scan his spine now."
They carefully turned Herik onto his stomach. This time, he was conscious enough to speak.
Weakly.
Confused.
"I want to go… to mom…"
"You will," Juson replied quietly. "Just stay still a little longer."
The scan began again.
The machine vibrated harder this time as the image slowly formed across the monitor.
Then the doctor froze.
Clusters.
Dozens of them.
Spread across Herik's spinal cord like dust trapped beneath transparent skin.
Juson stood too far away to properly see the screen.
But the doctor could.
And the longer he stared at it, the paler his face became.
"What is this…?"
He zoomed further in.
The machine suddenly whined loudly, struggling to process the image.
The lights above flickered again.
Herik cried out in pain.
The monitor distorted violently.
"I need help—"
"No!" the doctor shouted sharply as Juson instinctively moved forward.
But Herik panicked and tried to move again.
Ignoring the warning, Juson grabbed Herik's legs firmly to stop him.
The moment he touched him—
Everything changed.
The machine stabilized.
The lights stopped flickering.
The screen cleared instantly.
Every distortion vanished.
Silence filled the room.
Juson slowly looked up toward the monitor.
Even he noticed it this time.
Everything had become normal the moment he touched Herik.
That wasn't coincidence.
The realization hit him harder than he expected, but before he could process it properly, the doctor spoke again.
"Hold him still," he said quickly. "I need to save this."
Juson hesitated.
Then slowly removed his hand from Herik.
The machine shut down immediately.
The screen went black.
And the entire room fell silent once again.