For a split second, Arsh remembered the face from that night. Not completely, but those sharp, ice-blue eyes lingered in his mind. But he was struggling to hold onto the memory. It was so hard to focus on the image forming in his mind; it was like water slipping through his fingers as he tried to hold it. When he opened his eyes, he saw the golden threads swaying in front of him. Without a second thought, he started to follow after them.
He ran quickly through the city's unfamiliar streets. Every now and then, the golden threads would fade as he lost his focus on the blue eyes, causing him to lose sight of them. In those moments, he would pause and try to hold onto the image of those cold blue eyes in his mind.
After a while, he found himself in a place that looked nothing like the rest of the city. Unlike the wealthy neighborhoods he'd walked through before, the countryside where he lived, or the clean, organized city center, this place was a ruin. The houses were dilapidated, and small children wandered around in patched clothes. The streets were muddy. Men pulling wheelbarrows splashed water onto the roadsides, and a foul stench drifted from piles of garbage scattered here and there.
The people here were different from the gray but clean and neat-looking residents of Tirsit. Rather than being gray, these people were grimy. They had different colors, yet just like the streets, they looked as if they were covered in a layer of grime.
Still, Arsh didn't dwell on these thoughts. He didn't let his focus waver as he hurried toward his target. Before long, he found himself in front of a three-story building that was also a ruin, just like the others, looking as if it were on the verge of collapsing. The door of the building was open, and two or three children in short pants were playing in front of it. He moved past them and stepped inside.
The golden threads led him to the top floor. When he reached the door, he stopped. He had come here in haste, but what was he supposed to do now? Was he going to take down the thief all by himself? The smartest thing to do would be to go and tell Mr. Herman.
'But what if the man disappeared?' he thought. He had no confidence that he would be able to find him again. It felt as if his mind was constantly pushing him, trying to erase the man's face from his memory.
He was exhausted. He knew the man was inside. Finally, he let the golden threads fade away into the air.
He decided the best thing to do was to wait nearby until he could see the man's face again. He thought that if he could get a clear look at him, he could refresh the memory in his mind, then go tell Mr. Herman and come back with help.
"But just as he turned around, he felt the coldness of the blade against his throat.
"Who are you?" Arsh asked, realizing it was a stupid question the moment it left his mouth.
"I suppose you must have at least some idea who I am, since you came all this way," the man said. "I remember seeing you at the Belowich estate. You were with those policemen disguised as waiters."
Arsh prepared himself to throw the man off, but there seemed to be little chance of that. When the man behind him pressed the knife more firmly against his throat, he felt a sharp sting. He could sense a drop of blood sliding from his neck down toward the collar of his shirt.
"Calm down… I have no intention of harming you. Let's go inside and talk," the man said, stepping backward without removing the blade from Arsh's throat.
Though tension coiled within him, Arsh kept his composure. He understood that if the man had truly wanted to kill him, he could have done so easily, right there on the spot.
"I'm going to pull the knife away now. If you make a sudden move, I can't promise what I'll do... Do we have a deal?" he said.
Arsh gave a nod of agreement, and the man slowly pulled the knife back. Once Arsh felt the man step away a bit, he turned around and they came face to face. Even though Arsh looked at his face, it was difficult; his mind was getting blurry. After a second or two, he looked away.
The man showed Arsh a chair and then sat on another one by the door. After that, he waved a piece of paper. Realizing what it was, Arsh reached into his inner jacket pocket, but it was empty.
"Ash Godwin. A citizen of Symran... But you don't look like a Symranian. Is your father from Symran and your mother from the colonies? It's very common. These streets are full of people like you," he said, reading the identity paper in his hand.
"..." Arsh tried to look into the man's eyes again without saying a word.
"So you won't talk. And here I was, trying to start a conversation. Whatever... we can wait like this as long as you want. There's no one with you. I've already checked. Even if you did tell someone, it wouldn't be hard for me to vanish from here before anyone noticed."
He was right. If the man did something to him here, no one would ever find him soon enough.
"But I'm curious... How did you find me? Or do you have a siuni?"
Arsh reacted instinctively when he heard the question.
"So, I guessed right... In that case, let's have a proper talk. We're probably in the same boat. Are you one of those who escaped from the experiments, too?"
Hearing this, Arsh realized a few things about the person in front of him.
'Like Mes,' he thought.
"No... for different reasons," Arsh said.
"Hmm... considering you're hanging around with those cops, you must be in that organization made up of people with siuni. I don't know the name, but they have a lot of informants. What are they giving you in exchange for your help?"
Arsh wasn't sure how to respond at this point. He needed to brush it off somehow and get out of there.
"In exchange for their help..."
"So, you're helping them back because they helped you, huh? Wow, what an enlightening answer. Whatever... Take my advice. Get yourself away from them somehow. I wouldn't trust them if I were you. No matter what, they're Symrans."
When Arsh looked carefully at the man's face again, he noticed his light brown hair, fair skin, and blue eyes, even though he still couldn't quite make out his features.
"Aren't you a Symranian too? You look like one..." Arsh said, his voice trailing off with a hint of nervousness. The moment he said 'Symran' he saw a flash of pure rage in the man's eyes.
"I'm not... But now, what should I do with you? It doesn't look like you're going to cut ties with them. You're going to help them. You found me once, you'll find me again."
Arsh grew anxious. He had to escape somehow. He needed to say something to convince him.
"Why did you tell me not to trust them? Is there a reason?"
"Do you know how a siuni is accepted into the body?"
"...You need to be worthy."
"Yeah, yeah... but what if your body doesn't accept the siuni? What would you do then? Would you just give up when power and extraordinary abilities are right in front of you?"
"..."
"You wouldn't. Humans are greedy... You're just a kid who doesn't know a thing," he said. Seeing that Arsh had no idea what he was talking about, his momentary flash of anger began to fade quickly.
"I don't know what you've been through. If the point is not to trust the Symrans, fine. You probably have your reasons. Believe me, I have my reasons too. For now, I'm going to trust what I see. These people are working to save kids who are being used as test subjects... just like you. From what I've seen, they're sincere about it and they're putting in the effort. So for now, I'm choosing to trust them," Arsh said.
"I'm telling you again... You're too naive. How much of it have you actually seen with your own eyes?"
Arsh thought to himself, He's right. There was actually nothing he'd seen with his own eyes. He had only witnessed Nesame's son being handed over. Everything else was just talk or things he'd seen in the news. But still, no matter how much he thought about it, he didn't feel any distrust. After all, there was no reason for these people to go through the trouble of tricking him. If they wanted to, he was someone they could easily get rid of.
"Go on, get out," the man said after a long silence.
"You found me once... but I won't let that happen a second time. Go ahead, tell your friends where you found me. Let's see if you can actually catch me," he said, opening the door and signaling for Arsh to leave.
As Arsh was stepping out, the man shoved his identity papers back into his hand and slammed the door behind him.