Sarnius: My brain felt like it was on fire while writing this chapter.
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The glowing eyes did not blink.
They stared through the absolute, suffocating blackness of the elevator shaft—two perfect, clinical circles of artificial light pinned less than a foot from Cedric's face.
The darkness was so complete that even the faint violet glow leaking from the cracked ceiling far above seemed to die before it could reach them.
Cedric froze. Every muscle in his battered body, already screaming from the violent impact of the fall, coiled like a rusted spring ready to snap.
His bloodied fingers dug desperately into the oily, grit-covered floor of the ruined lift, sharp shards of debris biting deep into his palms.
White-hot agony radiated from his fractured ribs with every shallow breath, but he still forced himself to prepare for one final, desperate strike.
Then, the suffocating silence was shattered by a small, tinny voice vibrating through a high-frequency speaker.
"...Cedric...?"
The voice was laced with thick disbelief and a mounting, very human panic. It sounded impossibly familiar.
"Wise...?" he rasped, the name scraping painfully against his dry, copper-tasting throat.
The owner of the glowing eyes stepped forward. A small, rounded silhouette finally caught a stray glint of violet light. It was a Bangboo—round, mechanical, wrapped in a signature soft orange scarf that fluttered slightly in the air. Eous.
Cedric's shoulders sagged. The tension drained from his body so suddenly that his vision swam and darkened at the edges. He slumped back against the dented, blood-streaked metal wall, eyes fluttering shut as the adrenaline finally ebbed, leaving only raw, throbbing pain in its wake.
[An Hour Earlier – Random Play, Sixth Street]
The morning on Sixth Street had begun with the slow, languid grace of a world that had no idea it was about to shatter.
Upstairs in the modest apartment above Random Play, Wise stirred awake before the sun had fully risen. She lay still for a moment, blinking at the ceiling, before a familiar discomfort pulled her attention downward.
Her chest felt unusually heavy this morning—a dull, throbbing weight that strained her posture and made her shoulders curve forward.
She looked down and let out a quiet sigh.
Her thin white nightshirt was stretched tight across her breasts, the fabric clinging to newly developed curves that seemed to grow almost overnight.
Another growth spurt. Relentless. Inconvenient. Especially for someone who spent most of her days hunched over a Proxy terminal.
"At this rate, I'm going to have a permanent slouch before I'm twenty," she muttered to the empty room, voice still thick with sleep.
She swung her legs out of bed, bare feet meeting the cool wooden floor. The morning chill raised faint goosebumps along her arms as she padded toward the bathroom.
Once inside, she closed the door with a soft click and turned on the light. The tiles felt icy beneath her soles.
Wise reached into the shower stall and twisted the heavy brass handle. The old pipes groaned in protest before a steady stream of water hissed against the translucent plastic curtain.
She waited patiently, holding her hand under the spray until the initial icy bite gradually warmed into a soothing, stinging heat.
When the temperature felt just right, she slipped out of her nightshirt, letting the soft fabric pool at her feet.
For a brief moment, she caught her reflection in the fogging mirror—ivory skin flushed slightly from sleep, long gray hair cascading down her back, and the undeniable fullness of her chest that made her lower back ache faintly even now.
She stepped into the shower.
The moment the hot water struck the back of her neck, Wise let out a soft, involuntary sigh. The sharp jolt chased away the last remnants of sleep.
She leaned forward, resting her forearms against the slick tiled wall and bowing her head, allowing the torrent to soak through her hair and cascade down her spine.
Steam quickly filled the small bathroom, turning the space into a warm, intimate cocoon of mist and heat. Water traced glistening paths over every curve of her body. Wise closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of the spray massage her tense muscles.
She reached for the bar of artisan soap—sandalwood and citrus—its rich scent blooming in the humid air as she worked up a thick, creamy lather between her palms. Slowly, deliberately, she began to glide her soapy hands across her skin.
She started at her shoulders, kneading the tight knots with firm circles. Then her hands moved lower, tracing the elegant line of her collarbones before cupping the heavy, tender weight of her breasts.
The moment her slick palms made contact, she drew in a sharp breath. They were incredibly sensitive this morning—the skin tight, almost swollen from the rapid growth.
Every slow, circular motion of her fingers sent tiny sparks of sensation through her body. The soap made her skin silky and glistening, the full curves sliding easily under her touch as she gently massaged them, lifting their weight to ease the strain on her back.
A quiet, breathy sound escaped her lips without permission. She bit her lower lip, cheeks warming under the hot water.
She told herself it was just the heat, but the way her body responded to her own touch was undeniably more intense than usual.
She continued anyway, thumbs brushing lightly over the sensitive peaks, feeling them tighten under the stimulation.
The combination of hot water, slippery soap, and the newfound heaviness of her chest created a strangely intimate, almost sensual haze.
After several long, indulgent minutes, she forced her hands to move downward. The loofah followed, scrubbing in smooth strokes along the gentle slope of her stomach, the dip of her waist, and the soft flare of her hips.
She took her time, letting her fingertips trace the slick, soapy lines of her thighs and the curve of her backside, enjoying the simple tactile pleasure of cleanliness and warmth.
Wise tilted her head back, letting the water pour over her face and chest. It rinsed away the soap in rivulets that traced every contour of her body, leaving her skin glowing, flushed, and impossibly smooth.
She lingered far longer than necessary, turning slowly under the spray so the heat could target the dull ache in her lower back and shoulders.
For nearly forty minutes, she stayed there—lost in the soothing embrace of the water, the fragrant steam, and the quiet luxury of being alone with her own body.
Only when the water began to cool did she finally step out, skin pink and glistening. She wrapped herself in a large, fluffy towel, then dried her hair with slow, careful strokes.
After applying a light layer of lotion that left her skin softly scented, she pulled on her favorite oversized sweater—the baggiest one she owned.
The soft fabric swallowed her frame, successfully hiding the new, distracting curves while still allowing her to move comfortably.
Downstairs, the shop was still dark and pleasantly cool. Wise moved behind the counter and began her morning ritual: grinding coffee beans.
The mechanical growl of the grinder filled the quiet space, followed by the rich, nutty aroma as she poured hot water in a slow, steady spiral over the grounds.
Just as the first pot finished dripping, Belle stumbled down the stairs, yawning so widely it seemed to stretch her entire body. Her hair was an adorable mess.
"Morning, Wise…" she mumbled, collapsing into a chair.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Wise replied with a gentle smile. She poured two steaming mugs and set one in front of her sister before sitting down herself.
They spent the next while in comfortable silence, sipping coffee and chatting about small, meaningless things—the ridiculous plot of an old Hollow movie they'd watched last week, the stray cat that kept sunbathing on the roof.
The peace felt fragile and precious.
But as the wall clock clicked softly to 8:00, Belle frowned.
"Huh… it's already eight. Cedric's usually here by seven sharp lately to help with inventory. It's weird he hasn't shown up or even messaged."
Wise glanced at the door, a small flicker of unease stirring in her chest.
"Maybe he got caught up with something. He did mention he had a busy day."
"Yeah… probably," Belle agreed, though her tone lacked conviction.
They let the topic drop, but the peaceful atmosphere didn't last long.
A sharp, insistent chirp suddenly cut through the air— an incoming commission alert on the Proxy terminal.
Wise set her mug down and pulled the device closer, her brow furrowing as she read the details.
"An anonymous request?" she muttered. "Sender unknown… and the commission has already been paid in full, upfront. Maximum rate."
Belle leaned in, eyes widening.
"Paid before we even accept? That's extremely irregular. Who throws that many Dennies around without even bother to checking if the commission was success?"
Wise's expression darkened as she continued reading.
[Target located at coordinates 12.04.88 / 09.SF-OP. Short person with black hoodie. They need help right now. Please.]
"Coordinates 12.04.88... sub-vector 09.SF-OP..." Belle whispered, her voice dropping as the holographic maps began to overlay on her screen.
"Wise, look at this. That's not just a random ping. Those sub-sector tags confirm the target is deep inside the Old Plaza Mall—specifically the basement levels near the service elevator shafts."
"That entire zone was blacklisted years ago; it's a place even the most desperate scavengers know to avoid."
She turned to her brother, her expression tight with worry as she pointed to the Ether density readings spiking into the red.
"That area has been flagged for extreme Ether corruption and severe spatial desynchronization. If these coordinates are accurate, this target is at the very bottom of the mall's 'throat'."
Belle bit her lip, her fingers hovering over the console.
"This screams trap... or worse, a suicide mission. These coordinates confirm the target has fallen straight into a sector where no one is supposed to exist."
Wise stared at the blinking cursor. Logic screamed at her to reject it immediately—the payment was too generous, the location too dangerous, the anonymity too suspicious. Her finger hovered over the decline prompt.
But then, without warning, a cold, sharp dread coiled tightly in her stomach.
It wasn't just ordinary unease. It was the same heavy, instinctive warning she had felt many times before — during countless dangerous Proxy runs where logic screamed "reject" but her gut had pulled her toward the commission anyway.
That familiar icy sensation crawled up her spine, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her fingers hovered motionless over the keyboard, the cursor blinking steadily on the "Decline" button like a silent accusation.
Wise stared at the screen, reading the message again and again. The coordinates. The urgent plea: "They need help right now. Please."
Everything about this request screamed danger — too much money, too little information, and a location deep inside one of the most unstable sectors in the area.
Rejecting it would be the smart, safe choice. The rational choice.
And yet… she couldn't bring herself to press the key.
The dread grew stronger, twisting like a living thing inside her chest.
It wasn't fear for herself.
It was something deeper — a heavy premonition that if she turned this commission down, something truly terrible would unfold.
Someone's life might be lost.
Or worse… someone important to her might slip away into the Hollow and never return.
"I'm not rejecting it," Wise said quietly, but her voice carried an unmistakable steel edge that left no room for argument.
Belle, who had been leaning over her shoulder reading the details, jerked back as if she had been slapped. Her eyes widened in disbelief, the half-empty coffee mug still clutched tightly in her hands.
"Wise, are you serious?!"
Belle's voice rose sharply, a mix of shock and genuine alarm.
"This is basically a suicide mission! Look at the location — Old Plaza Mall sector is practically a death trap right now. Extreme Ether corruption, spatial instability, and no official rescue teams are even allowed in there anymore. We'd be going in blind with almost no backup!"
Belle set her mug down with a loud clack, leaning closer to the terminal as if trying to physically pull her sister away from the screen.
"You always tell me to trust the data, right? Well, the data here is screaming 'trap' in big red letters! Anonymous sender, full payment upfront, no details about the target except vague coordinates…"
"This doesn't feel right at all. We could lose Eous. We could lose everything if something goes wrong inside that Hollow."
Wise didn't answer immediately. She kept her gaze fixed on the glowing screen, her expression calm on the surface but her mind racing beneath it.
The cold dread refused to loosen its grip. Instead, it only grew sharper, more insistent, as if the Hollow itself was whispering directly into her ear.
"I know it looks bad,"
Wise replied at last.
Her voice was steady, but her eyes were hard with quiet determination — the same look she wore whenever she made a decision that logic couldn't fully explain.
"The risks are real. I'm not pretending they aren't. But… I have a feeling. A really strong one."
She turned slightly in her chair to face Belle, her gray hair catching the soft morning light filtering through the shop windows.
"If we don't go… something terrible is going to happen. I can't explain it logically, Belle. It's not just about the Dennies or the commission rating."
"It's like… if I reject this now, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Someone out there needs us right now. And if we turn away, we might never get another chance to help them."
Belle opened her mouth to argue again, but the words seemed to die on her tongue when she saw the unwavering resolve in her sister's eyes.
She let out a long, frustrated sigh instead, running a hand through her messy morning hair.
"…You and your damn gut feelings,"
Belle muttered, though there was reluctant affection mixed with worry in her tone.
"Fine. But if we're really doing this, you'd better promise me you'll pull Eous out the second things get too dangerous. No heroics, Wise. I mean it."
Wise offered her sister a small, grateful smile, even though the heavy weight in her stomach still hadn't eased.
"I promise. We'll be careful. But we have to move quickly — the person mentioned in the request might can't wait for us."
[Present Time]
"Cedric! Cedric, talk to me right now!"
Wise's voice burst through Eous's speakers, sharp and thick with frantic worry. The words tumbled out before she could stop them, her heart hammering violently in her chest as if it wanted to break free.
On the large monitor back at Random Play, the live feed from Eous showed a devastating, almost heartbreaking scene. Cedric was slumped heavily against the rusted, blood-streaked wall of the collapsed elevator shaft.
His body looked battered and broken — clothes torn in several places, dark blood soaking through the fabric and staining the cold metal behind him.
His face was unnaturally pale beneath layers of grime, sweat, and fresh wounds. He looked like he had barely survived a brutal, unforgiving fall.
"What happened?! How did you end up in a Hollow like this?"
Her voice trembled badly, the scolding born from pure, overwhelming terror rather than anger.
"You're covered in so much blood… God, there's so much blood. Why would you let yourself get hurt this badly?"
"You're not supposed to be anywhere near a peak-instability area like this! You reckless idiot… Do you have any idea how much you're scaring me right now?!"
Eous shuffled closer on its small mechanical legs, its soft paws patting Cedric's shoulder in a slow, rhythmic, worried motion, trying its best to offer whatever small comfort a Bangboo could give.
Cedric leaned his head back against the cold, dented metal with a low, pained groan. His breathing came in shallow, labored bursts. Every word clearly cost him tremendous effort.
"The fissure… it opened right in front of Howl,"
He rasped, his voice broken and thick with exhaustion.
"He couldn't stop… the pull was too strong. He was being dragged in. So… I jumped after him."
A heavy, suffocating silence fell between them.
Back in the quiet shop, Wise froze completely. The frantic words died instantly in her throat. She stared at the monitor with wide eyes, her mind struggling to process the full picture before her.
Cedric's arm was still wrapped tightly around the massive, shivering form of Howl, holding the big dog protectively against his injured chest despite his own shattered ribs and obvious agony. Even now, in such a critical state, he refused to let go.
This was… confusing.
Because normally, Cedric avoided dogs.
He had once told her directly that he was afraid of them — that their size, their unpredictability, and even their barking made him uncomfortable.
He usually kept a noticeable distance from any dog they encountered on Sixth Street.
Yet here he was, risking his life without hesitation for this particular one, holding Howl so tightly even while bleeding and broken.
There had to be something deeper.
There were moments when Wise had sensed something more beneath the surface — something almost protective, even desperate in the way Cedric treated Howl.
It didn't feel like ordinary fear, nor like simple affection.
It felt like there was a hidden reason, something painful or significant that Cedric had never shared with her.
She had never pressed him for details before… but seeing this scene now made the questions burn even brighter in her mind.
"You… jumped into the fissure for Howl?" she whispered, her voice losing all its earlier sharpness. It had become soft, laced with confusion, concern, and a hint of pained disbelief.
"Cedric… what were you thinking? I know you've said you're scared of dogs… but the way you're holding him right now… it doesn't look like fear."
"What made you decide to jump in without hesitation? What was going through your mind in that moment?"
Cedric was quiet for a long moment. His breathing was ragged, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, weak, and strained with pain.
"…Couldn't… let him go alone," he rasped slowly, each word seeming to take great effort. "I… I just had to."
Wise's chest tightened at the raw honesty in his broken voice. She wanted to ask more, but she knew now wasn't the time.
She paused, letting the weight of her own words settle for a moment. Her throat tightened as another detail suddenly caught her attention.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the camera feed more carefully around Cedric and Howl.
The two small, portable incubation machines that Cedric almost always carried with him — the ones he treated with such careful, almost obsessive attention — were nowhere to be seen.
A fresh wave of worry twisted sharply in her stomach.
"Where are the incubators and the eggs?" she asked gently, her voice dropping even softer, careful not to overwhelm him further.
"The two machines you always bring with you… I don't see them anywhere in the frame. Are they still with you? Did something happen to them?"
Only after asking did she realize how fragile her own voice had become. She swallowed hard, then continued with even more tenderness.
"Are they okay?" she asked, her voice now barely above a whisper, fragile with lingering worry.
"Left them… at home," Cedric managed, the words rough and strained. "Sister."
She let out a long, shuddering breath of relief, her shoulders sagging slightly as some of the crushing tension finally eased.
"Thank god… They're safe."
For several long seconds, silence lingered once more. Wise pressed her fingertips gently to her forehead, forcing her racing mind to focus on the present.
When she spoke again, her voice had regained some of its professional Proxy composure, though unmistakable concern still colored every word.
"Listen to me carefully, Cedric. There's a fissure nearby — it's a direct but unstable link back to Sixth Street."
"It won't stay open for long. With your injuries and the Ether levels rising so quickly in this sector… we can't afford to waste any time."
She quickly adjusted the controls and pulsed a bright navigation marker to Eous's headlamp.
The warm golden light cut through the oppressive darkness like a lifeline, illuminating the narrow, debris-filled path ahead.
"Stay right behind Eous. Follow the light closely. Don't stop, no matter how much it hurts."
"If you feel dizzy or like you're about to collapse, tell me immediately. I'll guide you every step of the way. I'm getting you both out of here. I promise."
Cedric gripped Howl's thick scruff with a bloodied hand and used the dog's solid, steady presence to slowly, shakily push himself upright.
His legs trembled violently under his weight, and a quiet hiss of pain escaped through his clenched teeth.
Howl whined softly again, pressing even closer to support him as best he could.
"Okay…" he whispered at last, his voice hoarse but filled with quiet, unwavering trust. "Lead the way… Wise."
[Random Play]
Wise leaned back in her chair, staring at the flickering monitor as Eous began moving forward, its headlamp cutting a narrow golden path through the oppressive gloom of the elevator shaft.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the desk until her knuckles turned white, the tension radiating up her arms.
Beside her, Belle was still standing, leaning over the terminal with wide eyes and a stunned expression.
The younger girl had gone completely silent the moment Cedric's bloodied face appeared on screen.
Her usual playful energy had vanished, replaced by pure shock.
"This… this doesn't make sense," Wise muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Belle finally found her voice, sounding just as confused and unsettled as her sister.
"Wait… that's Cedric?!"
Belle exclaimed, leaning even closer to the monitor, her messy hair falling over one shoulder.
"Why is Cedric the one down there? And why does he look like he just got chewed up and spat out by the Hollow itself?"
Wise didn't answer right away. Her mind was spinning, replaying the details of the anonymous request over and over.
The commission had been to locate and extract a missing person — but she didn't expect it to be Cedric.
The coordinates given were eerily precise, almost impossibly accurate.
They hadn't pointed to a general area, but to the exact collapsed elevator shaft where Cedric was now trapped.
It was as if the sender had known in advance exactly where he would be… as if they had somehow predicted that Cedric would jump into the fissure after Howl and end up in that precise spot at that exact moment.
How was that even possible?
How did the anonymous client know Cedric's exact location deep inside this restricted, highly unstable Hollow?
Who were they?
What was their connection to Cedric?
And why would they pay the maximum rate upfront without leaving any trace of their identity?
The questions piled up so quickly that Wise felt a headache starting to form behind her eyes.
Belle crossed her arms tightly over her chest, frowning deeply.
"And the coordinates… they were way too accurate, Wise."
"It's not like they said 'somewhere in the Old Plaza Mall sector.' They gave exact numbers — 12.04.88 / 09.SF-OP — like they already knew exactly where he'd be trapped."
"It's almost like… someone was watching him. Or worse, like they planned for this to happen, or... predicted it."
Wise closed her eyes for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath to steady herself.
The weight of everything — the fear for Cedric's life, the bizarre accuracy of the commission, and the growing sense that something much larger was at play — pressed down on her chest.
"…No, not now," she whispered into the quiet shop, her voice soft but firm, as if speaking more to herself than to Belle.
"Cedric's safety comes first right now. Everything else — the questions, the commission, who sent it, and how they knew he'd be there… can wait until he's safe."
Belle looked at her sister for a long second, her expression a mixture of worry and reluctant understanding.
She reached out and gently placed a hand on Wise's shoulder, squeezing lightly.
"Yeah… you're right," Belle said quietly.
"Let's get him out first. But once he's back and stable… we're definitely having a long talk with him. And with whoever the hell sent that request."
Wise nodded slowly, her gaze returning to the monitor where Eous's light continued to guide the way through the darkness.
Despite her words, the uneasy feeling in her stomach refused to fade completely.
For now, though, Cedric's life was the only thing that mattered.