Sunlight seeps through the cracks of a weathered wooden wall. On the table, a glass bottle holds a single red flower floating inside it. Zenon lies on a white bed, wrapped head to foot in bandages.
He woke with a jolt.
His head throbbed like something was pressing on it from the inside. He looked around. A room he didn't know.
That old man.
He got up fast and left. The room sat above a tree. He went down the stairs faster than his balance could handle, then started scanning the place. Fallen trees. Scrap scattered around a small clearing. A table and chair out in the open air. And from the hut behind it — the sound of a forge, sparks, the smell of scorched stone reaching him before he did.
He pushed the door open slowly.
The old man was hunched over something, working with focus, a protective mask over his face and a coverall stained with more colors than could be counted. He turned toward Zenon without stopping his hands.
"You're awake. Hungry?"
"Who are you?"
"You slept ten days straight. Your body needs fuel." He turned back to his work. "I don't think this is the time for questions."
"I don't care. Tell me who you are and what you did to me."
The old man stopped. He picked up a coffee cup beside him and held it out.
"Drink this. We'll talk after."
Zenon took the cup but didn't drink.
"How do I trust you?"
"The caffeine in it should be enough. It doesn't need help."
"Don't change the subject. Who are you?"
"I can't tell you that. I still don't trust you either."
That stopped Zenon short. "That's... fair, actually."
He sat in the chair and took a sip, then spat it out immediately.
"Damn it. This isn't coffee. It's bitter as hell."
"Such trust, built on absolutely nothing." The old man's voice was dry, amused. "Real coffee. No sugar, no additives. Seems you're used to the processed stuff."
"You tricked me." He set the cup aside. "Just tell me your name, and why you brought me here."
"My name is Sphinx." He pulled the mask off his face. "This is my hideout, for now. We're in the Amazon, as you probably know — and it's rare to find a human out here. Every creature I've dealt with in this place has been a Varne. So tell me — what did you expect me to do when I saw a person?"
"I get it. You drugged me because you thought I was something else."
"You're right about that. You don't know the first thing about the Amazon." He sat on the edge of the table. "Tell me how you got here."
"Too soon for that." Then, in a completely different tone: "The black stone. The one next to the creature I killed. Did you find it?"
"Killed it?" Sphinx's voice carried bad news. "You didn't kill it. Before you knocked it down, you'd already put a tranquilizer round in its neck." He gestured behind him. "As for the black stone — that's what I'm working on right now."
"Working on it?"
"Not your business."
Zenon stood.
"Old man. I'd rather not get violent with you. But I'm the one who brought that thing down, and that stone is mine."
Sphinx looked at him with cold amusement.
"Violence." He said the word like he was tasting it. "I'm old, sure. But I see two things standing in front of me. First — look at yourself. Second — you don't look like a man who's here by choice. My guess is you ended up here by accident."
"What do you mean, accident?"
"I could guess how you got here, but that's not important right now." He turned back to his work. "Do you know what this stone actually is?"
"No. But I know it's mine."
"You're sharp." He didn't look up. "Relax, you can have it. It's called obsidian — natural volcanic glass, formed when lava cools fast. But this particular piece is unusual. Like someone was refining it."
"I don't care about the details. What are you doing to it now?"
"Reshaping it. I want to make it a knife. It's sharp enough as it is."
"I don't want a knife. Make it into something better."
"I don't take orders." Then he paused. "But tell me — what exactly are you trying to make?"
"A weapon. Something easy to use."
"Easy." He repeated the word like it belonged to a language he didn't speak. "There's no such thing as an easy weapon. Try a gun if you want something simple." He stopped. "Why do you even want a weapon?"
"There's someone I want dead."
Sphinx went quiet for a moment, studying him.
"Have you ever tried to kill someone before?"
"I don't know if what I did counts as killing. But I've tried." Then: "Tell me — do you know what killing feels like?"
"I've never killed anyone directly. But I know it's a bad feeling."
"That doesn't make sense," Zenon said, calm. "How do you know the feeling of something you've never done? Killing doesn't have a feeling that describes it. Because the act comes from emptiness."
Something shifted in Sphinx's eyes.
"You've convinced me, kid." He set his work down and turned the chair fully toward him. "Now my curiosity's getting the better of me. I want to know how you got here, and what you've been through. I'm a scientist. Passion gets the better of me sometimes."
"Scientist?" Zenon said the word like he was inspecting it. "Is science a job? Tell me more — some thoughts are coming to me, and you might not like them."
"It's not a job. A hobby. And it's the passion that's kept me going this long."
Zenon studied him more closely.
"Your face aside, your body doesn't look like it belongs to someone weak. Where I'm from, people your age spend their days in chairs, lecturing the young. But you're different. Is science what keeps you alive?"
"Actually, I'm not just a scientist. Doctor, engineer, blacksmith, surgeon, nurse, and—"
"That's not possible," Zenon cut in. "No one has all of that."
"No?" Sphinx gave a thin smile. "From that answer, I can tell you're from Spezia. Nothing like that exists on your continent."
"I don't think it exists anywhere. Where did you learn all this?"
"I'm sure you've heard of the place. I was a scientist and researcher — for Albatross."
The cup fell.
Zenon didn't notice he'd dropped it. His eyes locked on a fixed point ahead of him, his hand rising slowly toward his head. He started shaking, sweating. The word echoed in his skull like a sound in an empty room.
"Albatross?"
"I don't think the name should be a problem — it's known the world over. But it seems you know something bigger than that."
Zenon stood and pointed a finger at him.
"Tell me everything you know about them."
"I already told you. I don't take orders."
"This isn't a request."
"What I know is what everyone knows. Isn't it the world government?" Then, more quietly: "Kid, you're starting to annoy me."
Zenon moved toward him and grabbed his throat.
"You don't know what I've been through. And I'm not in the mood to hear what you do or don't know. Tell me."
Sphinx looked back at him, and there was no fear in his eyes.
"You think anyone answers to this?" Violence isn't a way to have a conversation. Even if you have a score to settle with them, I don't work for them anymore."
Zenon went still. Then he let go.
"Then let's talk. Your turn."
"You really didn't know the government's name was Albatross?"
"I don't obsess over the news. Talk."
"Fine." Sphinx said it like a man making a decision. "Ask what you want."
"Who runs the government?"
"The three ruling families."
"Why are you here now?"
"I'm running."
"Silvestri Cypher. Do you know him?"
Sphinx froze. He put a hand over his face.
"How do you know that name?"
"You didn't answer me."
"Don't say it out loud." His voice carried real caution now. "Do you understand how dangerous that name is?"
"What matters to me is the information."
"I don't know much about him. But he's one of the Six."
"And who are the Six?"
"At the top of Albatross. Each of them has a different role. Their core function — they're human weapons."
Zenon sat down and pressed a hand to his face.
"How do you kill one of them?"
"Impossible, for ordinary people. They went through things that put them at that level."
Ordinary people.
The words stayed with him. He thought about what he'd seen. What had happened to him.
"I'm not sure I'm an ordinary person anymore. But I saw him use something strange... something inhuman. Is that what sets them apart from us?"
Sphinx looked at him in silence.
How did he know that? Who was this kid?
"Yes. But I don't know the details. And learning that kind of power isn't something that happens by will alone — it's earned through specific circumstances." He paused. "Am I right to guess you want Cypher dead?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
"No problem." He said it like a man weighing something honestly. "It's just... impossible."
"Fine." Zenon looked at him. "You don't know much about this. But I've become interested in your story. Tell me how you ended up here, and I'll tell you mine too."
Sphinx pulled off his mask and gloves. He dragged a chair over and sat close to Zenon.
"You might mock me for how I look. But like I said... I used to be one of them."
To be continued…