Cold rain slapped against my face the moment we stepped out. It wasn't gentle — it came down in thick, heavy sheets that felt almost deliberate, like the world was trying to wash the diner off of us.
Then came the sound.
"BLUUEEERGHH—!"
Theo doubled over, retching violently onto the pavement. The rain quickly thinned it out, pink water swirling down the gutter.
I just stood there, breathing.
Up until a few minutes ago, I was sure I'd end up like him — but now? No. After that white apple, the exhaustion, the nausea, even the faint dizziness I'd been feeling since we entered that anomaly… gone.
Every inch of me felt light — and oddly strengthened.
My stomach was hollow, but my blood hummed like static. It wasn't normal. It didn't feel human.
"Lord have mercy, what the hell was that?" Mira barked, her voice cutting through the rain. Her hands trembled as she cupped one around a lighter, trying to spark up a cigarette that the wind refused to let her have.
"Need a hand?" I offered halfheartedly.
"Unless your hand can stop the rain, I'm good," she muttered, the lighter finally catching. She took a long drag, exhaled a shaky breath, and stared off toward the diner's flickering neon sign — still glowing Open behind fogged glass.
"I take it this anomaly didn't go as usual?" I asked, scratching the back of my head.
Mira snorted, smoke curling past her lips. "No kidding. We've been here twelve times, and it's never been like that. Usually, it's one disgusting meal per visit, we eat, pay, and get the hell out. But this time?" She gestured back at the building. "That was chaos. We barely had any decent meals. And three meals at that? Since when does it feed us like that?"
"For what its worth, my stomach feels pretty empty regardless..." I admitted
"Thats because the food is also part of the anomaly. Meaning the second we leave it, the food simply dissappears." Mira said while puffing smoke.
'So I was eating an anomaly this whole time...? But what about that white apple then?'
Theo straightened slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His eyes were bloodshot, but he managed a weak grin. "And that old guy with the creepy smile…" He glanced at me. "You know him?"
My stomach turned colder than the rain. Memories of a maze i had desperately tried to forget flooded my head.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "Before I joined the BAA, I got stuck in a maze anomaly crawling with mimics. That old man — Charles — he was their leader, or something close to it. Outsmarted us at every turn. Most of the survivors didn't make it. We only got out because Supervisors Ash and Agent Ares showed up."
Theo's face darkened, and Mira stopped mid-drag, watching me through the smoke.
For a moment, all we could hear was the rain and the dull hum of the streetlights.
The silence between us stretched thin — held together only by the sound of rain hitting the cracked pavement. It wasn't peaceful. It felt heavy, like the world itself was exhaling after holding its breath for too long.
I looked away. "It's something I'd tried to forget."
The words came out quieter than I expected — almost carried away by the rain.
'Better leave out the part where Julian went against protocol and gave me and Sarah recovery potions…'
The downpour grew stronger, each drop smacking against my Suits jacket like pinpricks. No cars passed, no engines hummed. Just the sound of water, and the faint static of neon lights reflecting off puddles. It was strange — the city felt suspended, like time had stopped outside the diner's reach.
Theo stepped forward first, his boots splashing lightly. "You handled it well, Yuwon." He gave my shoulder a weak pat. His hand was cold, trembling slightly, but there was warmth in the gesture.
"That's right," Mira added, flicking her spent cigarette into the gutter before crushing it under her heel. "Besides, you don't have to worry about that mimic anymore." She looked at me, her expression softer than usual — her usual sharp edge dulled by exhaustion. "We've got your back, Yuwon. Always."
Something cracked inside me. I didn't even know what it was — guilt, maybe, or the kind of pain that comes from realizing you've survived something others didn't.
It ached somewhere deep in my chest.
A shaky breath escaped me, and before I could stop it, a small, bittersweet smile crept onto my face. "Thanks, guys… that means a lot to me."
Theo chuckled weakly, the sound brittle but genuine. "Don't get used to it. Mira bites."
"Only when you deserve it," she shot back, smirking before nudging my arm with her elbow. "Enough with the sentimentality, though. Let's get back to HQ, write up the reports, and call it a day before the Director drags us into another mess."
"Sounds like a plan," Theo said, stretching his arms before letting out a small groan. "And maybe, if we're lucky, they'll finally give us a bonus for handling this anomaly so well."
"Keep dreaming," Mira replied, already turning toward the car.
As we walked, the puddles rippled under the weight of our steps. Streetlights flickered — faint halos in the rain. Every few seconds, I caught my reflection in the wet asphalt. It looked… off.
Paler.
My eyes seemed to shimmer faintly, catching the light in a way they shouldn't have.
'Probably just tired,' I told myself. But even as I blinked, the hum beneath my skin — the same strange vitality from the white apple — refused to fade.
Theo unlocked his car with a chirp, the sound oddly loud in the quiet night. "Shotgun's mine," Mira said, already claiming her seat.
I slid into the back, the upholstery cold against my still-damp clothes. As the engine rumbled to life, I caught a last glimpse of the diner in the rearview mirror — its walls covered in cracks and windows broken and shattered.
And for a second, I could've sworn a figure was still sitting by the window — resting its head on the palm of its hand. Someone dressed in brown office attire.
Smiling through the glass.
Then it was gone.
When we arrived back at headquarters, the familiar hum of fluorescent lights greeted us. It was almost comforting — the sterile glow, the faint scent of burnt coffee lingering in the breakroom. The quiet clatter of keyboards echoed from nearby offices. Business as usual, even after everything that happened.
Theo and Mira immediately got to work on their reports. Or rather, our reports.
They insisted on helping me with mine, claiming it was tradition to "break in" rookies on their first write-up. So, I sat there at my desk, scrolling through the Bureau's database while they bickered over phrasing like an old married couple.
The search bar blinked back at me.
WHITE APPLE.
Enter.
No results. Not a single mention.
'It can't just be part of the anomaly… my body feels too light. Too good. Too energized for it to be.'
I exhaled, tapping my fingers against the desk. The motion felt rhythmic — too steady for someone who hadn't slept properly in days.
A few minutes later, Mira leaned over my shoulder, squinting at the screen. "Any luck?"
"Nothing," I muttered. "No records, no similar cases. Nothing even remotely close."
Theo pushed his chair beside mine, peering at the file. "We'll flag it later. For now, focus on the report. HQ hates blanks."
So we wrote.
Or rather, they did — Mira dictating, Theo editing, me sitting in the middle like a spectator.
"'Subject displayed distorted mimicry behavior,'" Mira read aloud. "That sound good?"
Theo frowned. "Distorted how? We need detail. Otherwise the brass will think you're talking about a broken mirror."
"It's a mimic, Theo. They'll figure it out."
"Yeah, because mimics just love disguising themselves as Floor lamps?"
Mira rolled her eyes but typed it anyway. "Fine. 'Distorted human-like mimicry.' Happy now?"
He gave a half-shrug. "Progress."
Their banter went back and forth — small, harmless, grounding. For a brief moment, I almost forgot about the diner, the rain, the apple. Almost.
After about twenty minutes, we had something that resembled a finished report.
Mira stretched, her joints cracking audibly, while Theo yawned so wide it made me do the same.
"Guess we get to clock out early today, huh?" Mira said, her voice brighter than usual.
Theo leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. "Clocking out early before a weekend is basically a holiday."
"...Weekend?" I blinked.
Both of them turned to look at me.
"Yuwon," Mira said slowly, "it's Friday."
"Wait—" I fumbled for my phone, the screen lighting up. Friday, 4:22 PM.
"…Huh."
Theo tilted his head. "You seriously didn't know what day it was?"
I hesitated. "I thought it was… Wednesday."
That earned me two very different expressions — Mira's playful disbelief and Theo's quiet concern.
"Have you been to any anomalies outside of work?" Theo asked
"Huh? No, why?"
"Losing track of time or forgetting days can sometimes be an early sign of contamination," Theo said gently.
"Don't freak him out," Mira cut in, though her tone softened. "You're probably fine, Yuwon. But protocol's protocol — we'll get you patched up, yeah?"
Theo nodded. "I'll take him to the Fox Library. It's the closest Containment Facility his rank can access."
Mira shrugged, already grabbing her coat. "Alright. But if this brute starts flirting instead of testing, call me, Yuwon. I'll knock some sense into him."
I couldn't help but laugh — quietly, but it was genuine. Theo muttered something under his breath about "professionalism," which only made her smirk wider as she left.
The office felt emptier once she was gone.
The hum of the lights seemed louder, more intrusive.
Theo powered down the terminal and stood. "Come on. Lets hurry up."
I followed, flicking off the last light. The hallway outside was bathed in a muted blue glow from the emergency lamps, and the sound of rain still whispered against the high windows.
We stepped out into the cold air. The puddles had calmed, but the city hadn't. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed — sharp and brief.
"To the Fox Library," Theo said quietly, unlocking his car.
And for some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone — or something — was watching me.