Ethan Knox - July 2120
Recount of Feb 2116
Where did I put the first aid kit? I swear it was in the chest of drawers.
I rummage through the mess, trying to push back the frustration rising in my chest, when movement catches my eye. Kai is leaning against the window sill.
From this angle I can't see his face, but I can see the way his shoulders loosen, the way the tension slowly drains out of him. I knew I shouldn't have left him alone in that room alone.
I walk toward him and stand quietly at his side. I don't want to disturb whatever calm he's managed to find. But when I turn to actually look at him, my heart stutters.
He's staring out at the water like nothing else in the world exists. Like he's breathing freely for the first time in… God, I don't even know how long. The breeze through the window blows his hair away from his face, and even though he looks calmer, there's still a tired, sad weight behind his eyes. I want to touch his arm, to let him know I'm here, but something tells me he needs the moment more than he needs me.
The silence stretches on, and I realise he's not going to be the one to talk first.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I say quietly. I'm not even sure if I'm talking about the sea or…
My gaze drops to the blood on his shoulder and everything snaps back into place. Right, the cut. I need to patch him up.
He sits on the edge of my bed, and when I look more closely at the wound, I realise I can't reach it properly with his top still on. Suddenly I feel nervous, the kind of tight, fluttery nerves that won't settle.
"Um… it's kind of in an awkward place. Do you… could you take your top off?"
Brilliant, Ethan. Very smooth.
But he doesn't react to my awkwardness. He just pulls his shirt over his head and I freeze.
Scars. There are so many scars. They cover him like a map of pain I can't begin to read. What did they do to him? How could anyone let this happen?
I force myself to focus. I need to help him, not fall apart.
Once I'm done patching him up, I head to the pile of clothes to find him something clean to wear. But all I can think about are those scars. How many times he must have been hurt. How alone he must have been.
What will he think when I tell him the truth? Will he think I left him there to suffer while I escaped? The thought sinks like a stone in my stomach.
I'm so lost in it that thought that I don't even notice him approve until his hand closes gently around my wrist.
"Ethan. It's time to talk." His voice is calm, but it feels stripped of almost every emotion.
I swallow hard. He deserves the truth, every part of it.
"Yeah… let's talk."
I stand and move back to the bed, sitting down. He hesitates until I pat the space beside me. Only then does he sit.
And I brace myself for what comes next.
I fiddle with my hands, trying to figure out where to even begin.
"The last thing I remember in the facility was you getting knocked out by the shock collar," I say slowly, forcing the words out. "I fell right after you… and there was blood all around me."
The memory tightens my chest, but I push through it.
"Then, out of nowhere, I felt something sting my neck. It was sharp and cold." I swallow. "And everything went black."
___________________________________
Something heavy presses down on me and I can't move. Everything feels dark, thick. I reach out blindly, trying to grab onto something... anything, to ground myself.
Where am I? What happened to Kai?
My whole body aches, a deep, sickening throb that makes my stomach twist. I stretch my hand out again, searching, but whatever I catch crumbles apart in my fingers.
I can't breathe properly and panic claws up my throat. I need to move.
I drag my nails through the darkness, clawing at debris, at earth, at whatever surrounds me. Finally, my hand hits something solid. I latch onto it and pull myself foward, slow, shaking, but desperate, until the weight above me shifts just enough for me to wriggle free.
I try to drag myself forward, but my muscles burn as if every fibre is begging me to stop, but I can't.
Then I see it, an opening. An exit.
I push through it and collapse into fresh air, gasping. My lungs sting as I cough violently. When I look down at my hand, it's smeared with something dark, slick. I can't tell what it is in this light.
I turn around to see what is it I've crawled out of and instinctively stumble back, hitting my shoulder against a wall of wet mud.
In front of me is a mound of wreckage and... bodies.
Bodies piled together, their limbs tangled and faces slack. So many of them. Blood coats their clothes, their skin. Some still have their eyes open, staring past me into nothing. I even recognise some of the faces. Failed experiments.
I slap a hand over my mouth, swallowing hard against the surge of sickness rising in my throat.
I take a moment to steady myself once I finally regain a shred of composure, but the trembling won't stop. I still feel shaken, like the ground beneath me might split open again and swallow me whole.
I need to get out of here.
I reach for the edge of the ditch, fingers clawing at the mud as I try to pull myself up but my body is too weak. I slip, sliding back down the slope. The mud crumbles every time I grip it, falling apart under my hands like it's mocking me.
I try again and again.
Each time I fail, frustration coils tighter in my chest until my legs buckle beneath me. Tears sting my eyes, spilling down my cheeks before I can stop them.
What am I supposed to do? Everything hurts.I can't...I can't do this anymore.
Time seems to blur. Minutes or hours go by, I don't know. I'm exhausted. My limbs feel like lead. A dark, tempting thought whispers maybe I should just give up. Just sink into the mud and rest.
My eyes grow heavy, drifting shut-
And then I hear a voice.
Soft. Gentle. Familiar.
"You've always been my light. So you have to keep shining, okay? For me."
Mum?
My eyes snap open and a jolt of clarity shoots through me.
No. I can't give up. Not yet. Not here.
I grit my teeth and force myself upright, swaying until the world steadies. With my head a little clearer, I finally notice something in the corner of the ditch, a large wooden box, half-buried in trash. I think it's some old storage crate.
I stumble toward it, using the mud wall for balance. Every step feels like a battle, but I keep pushing. When I reach it, it takes everything, every ounce of strength left, to shove the crate across the ditch floor until it's positioned against the wall.
Once it's in place, I climb onto it, my legs trembling violently as I do. It's just high enough that I can reach the top. My fingers lock onto the edge, and inch by painful inch, I drag myself upward.
My arms burn and my chest feels like it's being stabbed every time I breathe. The sweat on my face mixes with dirt, stings my eyes.
But finally, I roll onto the ground above, collapsing on my back as my vision tunnels around the edges. I suck in shaky breaths, trying to force the air into my lungs.
Then I open my eyes and everything stops.
Above me, in the pitch black of night, the sky is scattered with stars, countless, brilliant, real stars. For a second, all the pain drains from my body.
I can't help it, a tiny smile tugs at my lips. A breathless laugh escapes me, but that movement sends a spike of pain through my chest and I break into a coughing fit, clutching at my ribs, but even then, the stars remain above me, bright enough to keep me going.
I want to keep staring at the stars, but the winter cold creeps in fast. Shivers race down my spine as the wind brushes against my arms… my face… and my-
My neck?
My fingers move instinctively, brushing over the bare skin there. The collar is gone.
A weak, humourless breath escapes me. I guess dead people don't need shock collars.
With effort, I push myself up from the ground and take in my surroundings.
There is nothing but rubbish. Endless piles of it stretching out for miles in every direction. It's a a garbage dump. Did they dumped me here?
It's so dark that beyond the faint silver light of the moon and stars, I can't see much at all. I turn slowly, trying to spot anything, any sign of life, any road, any landmark, but there's nothing.
I think about using my power to figure out where I should go, but something deep inside warns me that using it right now would tear me apart. My body is barely holding on as it is.
So I pick a direction at random and I start walking.
Step by step. One foot, then the other. My body moves like it's made of glass ready to crack, but I keep going. I walk until the stars fade and the sky begins to pale with dawn.
I don't know how long I've been at it. My mind feels numb, and hollowed out. My feet keep moving even when I'm no longer sure I'm the one telling them to.
Then, I hear a sound, a car.
The sound floats through the cold morning air, but I can't bring myself to look for it. All I can think is: keep moving. If I stop, I'll collapse.
I don't even realise when the car pulls up beside me. Not until a door opens.
A shape steps out.I turn my head, and freeze mid-step.
A tall, dark-skinned man stands there, smiling gently. He leans into the car and opens the back door.
Another man steps out. This one is older, in his fifties, maybe. His hair is grey, and he's dressed in smart casual clothes. He carries himself with a calm confidence that feels almost out of place in this wasteland.
I stop walking, but I don't have the energy to speak, let alone deal with strangers.
"Thank you, Ray," the older man says as he exits the car fully.
The tall man, Ray, nods and steps back, though he stays close.
"I've been looking for you, young man," the older man says.
Looking… for me?
My pulse spikes. Is he here to drag me back to the facility? Back to GeneX? No. I can't go back. I won't.
I step back instinctively, but he lifts his hands slightly in a reassuring gesture.
"Oh no, don't get the wrong idea. We're not from GeneX." His voice is warm, steady. "My name is Edmund."
I stare at him, unable to respond.
"You're Ethan, right?" he asks gently. When I still can't bring myself to speak, he nods as if he understands.
"You must be exhausted. So I'll be direct." He takes a slow step forward, careful not to startle me. "I want to you work with us" His eyes soften. "And I came here to save you."
Save me?
Work with them?
My mind can't process the words, but something, something instinctive, tells me he isn't lying.
Something tells me I should go with him.
All I manage is a weak nod. I take one shaky step toward Edmund, but then everything inside me shuts down at once.
My legs buckle and the world begins to tilt.I fall forward, only to feel strong arms catch me before I hit the ground.
Ray.
Then everything goes black.
_____________________________________
The bed beneath me is soft and warm, maybe too soft. When I open my eyes, an old tiled ceiling stares back at me.
I push myself upright slowly. My head still aches, but the pain is dull now, manageable. I can think again. The room around me looks like a makeshift doctor's office, there's an old desk in the corner, shelves lined with medicine and medical tools. Everything smells faintly of disinfectant and dust.
When I try to move my arm, something tugs. That's when I notice the IV line taped to my skin.
I guess my body finally gave up the moment I realised someone was trying to save me.
I still feel heavy and sore, but better, much better than before. I reach for the glass of water on the bedside table, and as I lift it, the door swings open.
A woman steps in. She looks to be in her mid-thirties, blonde hair pulled into a messy low bun, and her round glasses slip slightly down her nose. Her eyes widen when she sees me awake, and she quickly crosses the room.
"Oh-oh my. You're finally awake." Her voice is soft, but rushed. Before I can say a word, her cool hand presses against my forehead, then she takes my wrist, counting my pulse with practised precision.
"Good. Good, you seem to have recovered well," she murmurs, jotting something into a notebook on her desk with quick, tidy strokes.
"Where am I?" My voice sounds rough, raw from disuse.
"You're at the Trinity," she answers without looking up, as if that should explain everything.
Trinity? The name means nothing to me.
She suddenly turns to the medicine cabinet, rummaging through it until she finds what she wants. She returns with two tablets and hands them to me along with my water.
"Take these. They'll help with the aching." She smiles, small but genuine. Up close, I notice the dark circles under her eyes, like she hasn't slept properly in days. Maybe longer.
I swallow the pills easily. "I… I don't understand what's going on."
"You've been asleep for two days," she says matter of factly. "You weren't exactly in the best shape when you arrived, I'll tell you that."
Not very specific, but I suppose it's the truth.
"Bear with me, I'll be back in a moment," she says, waving awkwardly before slipping out the door.
Left alone, I sit on the edge of the bed, letting everything settle. The medicine works fast; the ache in my body fades to a faint echo. My mind clears enough that the memories return in a sharp, disordered rush.
The experimentation room. Kai brought in. The antidote. His escape attempt -his collapse. My near burnout. The ditch full of bodies. Walking under the stars.
And then Edmund.
The door opens again. The doctor returns, but this time she isn't alone. Edmund steps in behind her.
Confident, but not in a way that overpowers the room. More like he fills it with quiet assurance. The kind of presence people instinctively lean toward.
"Young man," Edmund says warmly as he approaches, "it's good to see you awake and well."
"How are you feeling?" he asks, and the way he says it, gentle, and steady, makes something in me want to trust him.
"I've been better," I admit, managing a small smile.
He nods, the understanding in his eyes almost disarming. "If anything troubles you, Sophie can help. She's an excellent healer."
I glance toward the doctor. She gives an awkward little wave, cheeks flushing, as if uncomfortable being acknowledged. But there's intelligence behind her eyes, sharp, observant. She's the kind of person who notices everything and quietly worries about all of it.
"What's going on?" I ask, finally voicing the question clawing at my mind.
Edmund exhale softly. "Yes, I imagine you must be very confused. So I'll keep this simple." He folds his hands behind his back, his posture calm and open. "I brought you here to save you, Ethan. I mean to save anyone who has been mistreated by GeneX."
A soft weight settles in my chest.
He continues, "To cut a long story short, I run a revolutionary unit dedicated to taking down GeneX and exposing their unethical practices. Your ability, your future sight, could help us significantly."
Revolutionary.
Taking down GeneX.
Could I really join a group like that?
I'm not strong. I've spent most of my time at the facility wanting only two things, freedom, and to see the stars again. Now I have no home and no family.
And Edmund is right.
GeneX destroyed everything. Their Lunex Vial killed my parents. Their lies imprisoned me and Kai... they caged him like an animal.
Edmund begins, "But we're not here to force you to stay-"
"No." I cut him off without thinking. "I want to help."
His eyes soften with something like sympathy, understanding the pain behind my words. He nods once, firmly.
"Very well. When you're ready, Ray will show you the ropes."
For the first time in a long time…
I feel like the path ahead of me might actually lead somewhere.