Ethan knox - October 2120
I complain the entire way to the car about not being allowed to go with Kai and the others.
They're our strongest fighters. I know that. Everyone knows that. But still… knowing that doesn't stop the knot twisting in my stomach.
I always feel uneasy when I can't keep an eye on Kai.
On the walk over he kept holding my hand, squeezing it every few steps like he knew exactly what was running through my head. He kept telling me it would be fine, that they'd be back before I even had time to properly worry.
Which is a ridiculous thing to say to someone who can occasionally see the future.
Still, I'd almost convinced myself to ignore Edmund and jump straight into the car with them anyway. If only Edmund didn't say he needed me for something else.
So instead, I'm stuck standing there with Tessa as the engine starts.
Kai leans out of the window just before they pull away, flashing me that soft, reassuring smile that somehow always makes my chest ache and settle at the same time.
"Don't worry so much," he calls.
"Impossible," I shout back.
Then the car disappears down the road.
I sigh dramatically and drag a hand through my hair.
"They'll be fine," Tessa says beside me. "Stop worrying."
I glance over at her.
She looks completely relaxed, leaning back slightly like she's got nothing on her mind at all.
But then she pulls a cigarette from her pocket and heads toward the old swings in the park.
Yeah... She's nervous too.
Tessa just hides it better than most people.
I watch her light the cigarette, the faint glow flickering in the afternoon light, before turning back toward the building.
If I stand here any longer, I'll start imagining every possible disaster scenario my brain can come up with. And unfortunately, my brain is extremely talented at that.
So instead I make my way toward Edmund's office.
The door is already open when I arrive and Edmund sits behind his desk, glasses low on his nose as he studies a sheet of paper like it personally offended him.
"Take a seat, Ethan" he says without looking up.
I pull the chair out but skip the small talk.
"What did you need from me?" I ask, dropping into the seat.
Edmund reaches for the tablet sitting on the corner of his desk and taps the screen. The device lights up before he slides it across the desk toward me.
I pick it up and on the screen it shows security footage from the basement prison cells.
And sitting on the floor of one of them is the woman we recently brought back. The one who nearly killed me... or at least felt like she almost did.
My shoulders stiffen before I even realise it.
She's sitting cross-legged on the floor, but that's not what catches my attention.
The floor around her is scattered with scraps of paper. Dozens of them, each one covered in messy writing.
"What's this about?" I ask, glancing up at Edmund.
"She appears to have gained more awareness," Edmund replies calmly. "She is communicating more clearly."
I look back at the screen. The woman is scribbling something else onto one of the papers.
"That's… new," I murmur.
"Indeed."
I watch the footage for another moment before Edmund speaks again.
"She asked to see you."
I blink.
"Me?" I say, looking back at him. "Why me?"
Edmund leans back in his chair, fingers steepled together.
"I am unsure. However, this may be a valuable opportunity to obtain information."
My heart thumps a little harder in my chest and I lean back in my chair, staring at the tablet again.
The memory comes back instantly.
The burning pain tearing through every vein in my body. My muscles locking. My vision going white. It wasn't exactly a fond memory.
My ability flickers at the edge of my mind like it sometimes does when danger might be nearby. Not a full vision, just that quiet pressure behind my thoughts. Like a storm that might or might not roll in.
"Ethan," Edmund says carefully, "if you do not feel comfortable-"
"I'll go see her," I interrupt.
He pauses, studying me for a second.
Then he nods. "Isaac will accompany you."
"Okay" I say, pushing myself out of the chair.
I leave the office and head across the field toward the basement.
Isaac is already there, leaning casually against the basement door like he's waiting for a bus rather than guarding a dangerous prisoner.
He's polishing his sunglasses with the edge of his bright green Hawaii shirt before sliding them back onto his face.
"Took your time," Isaac says.
"Sorry," I reply, patting his shoulder as I walk past him. "Had to mentally prepare myself for another near-death experience."
Isaac snorts."You're so dramatic."
He pushes off the wall. "You sure about this?"
I hesitate for half a second.
A faint ripple of unease brushes through my thoughts again. My foresight doesn't show me anything dangerous, but I still feel concerned.
I give Isaac a small grin anyway.
"When am I ever not sure?"
"Most of the time."
"Rude."
I grab the door handle and pull it open.
Cool air from the basement drifts up the stairwell.
"Come on," I say, starting down the stairs. "Let's go see what she wants."
The stairwell hums with that quiet underground chill that always makes the place feel a little heavier than the rest of the building. The further down we go, the more the sounds from upstairs fade until it's just our footsteps echoing against the concrete walls.
I keep one hand lightly trailing along the railing as we descend, more out of habit than anything else.
My mind keeps circling back to Kai. I wonder where they are now. Whether they're already at the site. Whether...
I force that train of thought to stop. If I start imagining every possible future, I'll drive myself insane.
Instead, I glance over my shoulder at Isaac.
"So," I say casually, "if she fries me again, are you planning to avenge me dramatically, or just drag my body upstairs and complain about the mess?"
Isaac looks unimpressed behind his sunglasses.
"I'd throw a blanket over you and say a few nice words."
"Wow," I say. "Touching."
We reach the bottom of the stairs and step into the corridor that serves as our very improvised prison block.
Calling them cells is generous. It's really just a row of reinforced rooms with heavy doors. Functional, but not exactly comforting.
The fluorescent lights buzz softly overhead.
As we walk down the corridor, we pass the first door.
Through the door I can see Bennet sprawled across the thin mattress inside, fast asleep.
His arm is hanging halfway off the bed still chained and his mouth is slightly open.
I pause briefly and Isaac notices.
"What?" he asks.
I gesture toward the window.
"Look at him."
Isaac leans slightly to glance inside.
Bennet lets out a loud snore.
I shake my head. "Man sleeps like the world isn't falling apart."
Isaac shrugs.
"Maybe that's the secret."
"Yeah," I murmur, "must be nice."
At the end of the corridor there's another reinforced door.
This one leads to where she is...
Isaac steps ahead of me and unlocks it, the metal mechanism clunking loudly in the quiet hall. He pulls the door open and gestures inside.
"After you, future boy."
"Such respect," I say.
I step through.
The room beyond is colder, the air still and heavy. A single light hangs above the centre of the room.
And there she is... The woman sits on the floor exactly like in the footage, legs folded beneath her.
Scraps of paper are scattered all around her like fallen leaves.
Every single one covered in writing. Some of the pages are neatly filled, while others look frantic, the words crammed into every bit of space.
She doesn't look up immediately.
Instead she finishes writing something on the page in front of her, then slowly places the pen down.
Only then does her head lift and her eyes land on me.
For a moment the room feels very quiet.
I feel that same strange tension at the edge of my thoughts again, the subtle awareness my foresight sometimes gives me when something important is about to unfold.
Not danger exactly, but something close.
I give her a small, careful smile anyway.
It's the same one I usually give nervous people who look like they might bolt if someone raises their voice.
"Hi," I say gently.
I glance at the sea of papers around her.
"Looks like you've been busy."
For a moment she just looks at me.
Her eyes move over my face carefully, like she's trying to confirm something. Or remember something. Then her gaze drops to the papers around her.
Her fingers twitch slightly before she picks one up, crumpling the edge of it nervously.
I crouch down a little, keeping some distance between us and staying behind the line but lowering myself closer to her level. No reason to loom over someone who already looks like they're trying to wrestle with their own brain.
Isaac stays near the door behind me, silent but alert.
"You asked to see me" I say gently.
The woman nods quickly.
"Yes… yes I… I did."
Her voice comes out slow, uneven. Like every word has to fight its way out.
She presses her fingers to her temple.
"I… um… I… needed… to… to say…"
She trails off, frustrated. Her brows pull together as if the sentence has vanished halfway through her head.
I just sit there waiting, rushing someone like this never helps.
Finally she looks up again.
"I'm… s-sorry."
The words come out small and shaky.
My chest tightens a little.
"For… hurting… you." She gestures vaguely toward me. "I… didn't… m-mean… to."
Her breathing picks up slightly, like even saying that much cost her something.
"I… couldn't… stop it. I… I tried but… my… my body… just…"
Her hands shake as she searches for the word.
"Did it."
The room goes quiet for a moment. I rub the back of my neck and give her a softer smile.
"Yeah," I say lightly. "That part wasn't my favourite day either."
Isaac snorts quietly behind me, but I wave it off.
"Hey," I continue, keeping my tone warm. "You don't look like someone who wanted to hurt anyone."
Her shoulders loosen just a fraction.
"Th...thank you."
She fiddles with the paper in her hands again.
"You're… Ethan."
It's not a question.
"Guilty," I reply.
There is a small pause, then I tilt my head slightly.
"What's your name?"
She blinks a few times before her mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first.
Her eyes drift to the papers around her like the answer might be written somewhere on them.
"I… I…"
She presses her fingers against her forehead again.
"Wait… I… know… I know it."
I stay quiet, letting her think. Finally her expression brightens faintly, like a light switching on.
"Katie." She nods to herself. "Yes. It's… Katie."
"Nice to meet you, Katie" I say.
She looks almost relieved hearing it said out loud.
"I… I th-think… I used to… remember things… better."
"That happens to the best of us," I say with a small shrug. "My brain forgets where I left my keys every morning."
That earns a tiny, uncertain smile.
Katie slowly reaches for another piece of paper and slides it toward me across the floor.
The page is filled with messy writing, but some sentences are clear.
Others trail off halfway through.
"I… wr-write… things… so I… d-don't lose them" she explains.
"Smart system."
She nods again, though her eyes drift around the room like she's checking something invisible.
"I'm… trying to… remember."
"What kind of things?" I ask.
"Before."
Her voice drops softer.
"Before… I was… like this."
For a few moments the conversation settles into an uneasy rhythm.
Katie struggles through her sentences, stopping and starting, losing words and then finding them again. I wait each time, giving her the space to pull the thoughts together. Every now and then she grabs one of the scattered notes around her, scanning it like a map back to whatever she was trying to say.
It's slow, but it's working.
Then suddenly a loud bang echoes through the wall beside us and Katie flinches.
Isaac's head snaps toward the adjoining door.
And then the shouting starts.
"Ethan?!" a voice bellows from the next cell. "Is that you?"
I close my eyes for half a second.
Of course.
Christopher.
"Hey!" he shouts again, louder this time, his voice carrying easily through the concrete. "I know that's you out there!"
There's a pause.
Then his tone turns mocking.
"Oi, slut!" he yells. "Don't ignore me. I'm talking to you!"
Isaac exhales slowly through his nose.
"Unbelievable," he mutters.
Another bang rattles the wall.
"Ethan!" Christopher calls again, dragging my name out like he's enjoying the sound of it. "Why don't you come and sit on my lap like good old times?"
I rub my temple with two fingers.
Katie looks between us nervously, clearly struggling to follow what's happening.
Christopher's voice cuts through again.
"Hey!" he shouts. "You deaf or just pretending?"
Isaac mutters under his breath, "Give me thirty seconds and I'll solve this problem permanently."
I glance over my shoulder at him with a small grin.
"Tempting," I admit.
Another thud hits the wall.
Christopher's voice drops into a taunting sing-song.
"Come on, Ethan," he calls. "Don't be shy."
Christopher's voice keeps echoing through the wall, bouncing around the small concrete room like it's trying to crawl under my skin.
Katie's shoulders curl inward with every shout.
Isaac finally exhales sharply, already turning toward the door that connects to the neighbouring cell.
"Alright," he mutters. "That's enough."
Before I can even comment, he strides over and unlocks the side door that leads directly into Christopher's cell. The metal latch scrapes loudly as he pulls it open.
Christopher must hear it immediately.
"Oh, look who it is-" he starts.
Isaac doesn't let him finish.
"Shut up," he snaps.
Then he drives his boot hard into the metal door as it swings inward.
The loud clang of the impact slams through the corridor.
"Or I'll shut you up myself."
For a second there's only the ringing echo of metal vibrating through the frame.
Then… silence.
Complete, obedient silence.
Isaac stands there a moment longer, staring into the other room like he's daring Christopher to try again.
When nothing happens, he slowly closes the door again with a dull thud.
"Much better," he says calmly, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt.
Behind me, Katie is staring wide-eyed.
I glance back at Isaac and grin.
"Remind me never to annoy you before coffee."
Isaac folds his arms.
"You do. Constantly."
"Fair point," I admit, before turning my attention gently back to Katie.
"Sorry about that," I say softly. "Neighbour problems."
Katie suddenly looks toward the wall behind me.
Her head tilts slightly, then she points past me.
"The… m-man."
Isaac straightens slightly.
"What man?" he asks.
Katie frowns, searching for the words again.
"Next… next… door."
She taps the side of her head.
"I… know… that voice."
My eyes narrow slightly.
"The guy in the other cell?" I ask.
Katie nods slowly.
"Yes."
Her fingers tighten around the paper.
"I… heard… him… before."
I glance briefly at Isaac, then back at her.
"Where?" I ask gently.
Katie swallows.
Her words come slower now, like she's digging through thick fog.
"Vial..."
She squeezes her eyes shut and her voice turns quiet.
"I know… that voice."