Jeremy Chapi
I left the room to rejoin Natali, Solène, and Iris.
Once again, I carefully explained Elowen's post-treatment instructions to her mother.
For the time being, her body would require an enormous amount of nutrients to sustain its regeneration, so under no circumstances should her diet be restricted.
She would also need extensive physical rehabilitation. Although she had managed to walk for a few moments during the presentation, her muscles remained severely atrophied, and it would likely take at least a month before she could walk properly on her own.
I urged them to be patient with her.
Not to rush.
And above all, not to skip any steps in her recovery.
Elowen herself would also have to remain cautious.
If any questions or concerns arose, they were not to hesitate to come and see me.
Once I had finished explaining everything, Solène thanked both my daughter and me one last time.
A single tear slipped down her cheek before she quietly returned to her husband and daughter.
Not long afterward, we began the journey back to the base.
Fatigue was finally catching up with me, made even worse by my chronic lack of sleep and the relentless pain that never truly left my body.
As we stepped out into the courtyard where the buses were waiting, dusk had begun to settle over the horizon.
This time, I rode with my daughter in the bus equipped with a hydraulic lift, allowing her to board with ease.
The security detail remained with us, and Natali took the seat directly in front of mine while I sat beside Iris on the right side of the aisle.
"Considering everything..."
"I'd say your presentation went rather well,"
Natali remarked.
"I suppose."
My answer was brief.
"I have to admit..."
"You surprised me today."
"You revealed far more about yourself than I expected."
Her voice remained calm.
I couldn't tell where she was leading the conversation.
Beside me, Iris raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.
"I had to."
"It was the only way they'd believe me."
Even as I spoke, I could feel my irritation slowly rising.
Natali had a habit of hiding her true intentions behind seemingly innocent questions.
"I can't help wondering..."
"...what you're still keeping hidden."
She leaned slightly between the two seats, like a predator spotting the first crack in its prey's defenses.
"That's something..."
"...you'll find out much later."
My answer came out colder than I intended.
Ignoring the bus rocking beneath her feet, she rose from her seat with effortless balance and stepped into my row until she stood directly in front of me.
"You know..."
"I'm only here to help you."
She looked me straight in the eyes.
"Please stop saying that."
"You're only following President Atlas's orders."
"Him..."
"I know I can trust."
"But you..."
"You've never given me a reason to."
I met her gaze without flinching.
All the while, I could feel my heart pounding...
...all the way down to my injured arm.
Natali Lonskaya
He was right.
I was following the President's orders.
And the truth was...
I didn't fully trust him either.
Even today, he had given me yet another reason to remain cautious.
If he was capable of creating a cure like this...
...what was stopping him from creating a poison just as powerful?
If I wanted to protect my country...
...I needed to know what he was planning.
Didn't he realize the danger he represented?
Or the threats that now surrounded him?
Yet as I watched him sitting there, the dark circles beneath his eyes etched deep into his exhausted face, his mutilated left hand trembling ever so slightly...
...he looked almost harmless.
Just an ordinary man.
Someone who could disappear into any crowd without drawing a second glance.
"President Atlas did ask me to assist you and see to your needs."
"But I also have a duty to protect my country."
"My judgment will depend on your actions..."
"...and on the answers you choose to give me."
I studied him carefully.
Small beads of sweat slowly formed across his forehead.
He chose not to answer.
"What you revealed today..."
"...is going to shake the entire world."
"I'd simply like to be prepared for whatever comes next."
Again, I searched his eyes.
Again...
...he looked away.
And once more...
...he remained silent.
"Who is the person waiting for you in France?"
His entire body turned toward me.
Our eyes met.
For the first time...
I saw genuine anger on his face.
His exhausted features hardened.
His fists clenched.
Somewhere behind me, I heard the metallic click of moving machinery.
I paid it no attention.
"Stay out of things that don't concern you."
His voice had lost every trace of the warmth and good humor I had grown accustomed to.
I had finally found one of his weak points.
I slowly extended a hand toward him, hoping to calm the growing tension.
"Then tell me what I want to know."
"What are you planning now?"
My voice became firmer, deliberately pushing him toward his breaking point.
Without a word, he brushed my hand aside with his left arm.
Instinctively, I caught his wrist before he could pull away and end the conversation.
A sharp groan escaped him instantly.
His arm...
I had made a mistake.
The realization struck me the very moment I felt the cold touch of steel against the back of my neck.
Another metallic arm pressed firmly against my side.
"Let go of my father."
The voice was unmistakable.
Cold.
Sharp.
Like steel itself.
It was Iris.
One of her mechanical claws gripped my neck while the other remained pressed against my ribs, ready to strike if necessary.
The guards aboard the bus had heard Jeremy's cry of pain.
Within seconds, they were on their feet.
Hands moving toward their holstered weapons.
"Everyone, stay calm."
"Nothing's happened."
"We're only talking."
I kept my voice steady, fully aware that the situation could spiral out of control at any moment.
I released Jeremy's wrist.
He immediately pulled his injured arm back against his chest.
Even then, Iris's mechanical claw remained locked around my neck.
The speed of her intervention had caught me completely off guard.
"It's all right, sweetheart,"
Jeremy whispered as he examined his arm.
But when he rolled back his sleeve...
...fresh blood was already beginning to seep through the bandage.
Slowly, Iris loosened her grip.
Our eyes met.
Even through the face displayed on her screen, I could see it.
Cold anger.
Burning silently behind her gaze.
"I'm sorry."
"I never meant to hurt him."
But the hardness in her expression told me everything.
She didn't believe a single word of my apology.
Jeremy was already wrapping a fresh bandage around his injured arm.
Layer after layer.
Until it almost looked as though his entire forearm had been wrapped in white linen.
"I think that's enough questions for today."
"My father needs to rest."
Iris's voice was icy.
The avatar on her screen stared at me with unmistakable hostility.
"My hand..."
Jeremy muttered through clenched teeth.
"My daughter..."
"Show me your hands."
"Now."
The order caught me by surprise.
I held out both hands without understanding what she intended to do.
With one mechanical arm, Iris picked up a bottle of disinfectant and handed it to me.
"Wash your hands."
"We can't take any chances."
Without arguing, I obeyed.
All the while, Iris never took her eyes off her father, watching him with unmistakable concern.
"I owe you an apology,"
I whispered before returning to my seat, unable to shake the weight settling in my chest.
I had just hurt the very man I was supposed to protect.
Even now, I could still hear Jeremy struggling to suppress quiet groans of pain, determined not to let anyone hear how much he was suffering.
The rest of the journey back to the base passed in heavy silence, broken only by the occasional hushed exchange between him and his daughter.
If Vivian had been there, she would undoubtedly have mocked me mercilessly for this failure.
When we finally arrived, I wanted to say one last thing before we parted.
But Iris looked at me.
Coldly.
She was not human...
...yet the expression on her screen was one I had seen countless times before.
In children.
In soldiers.
In people consumed by hatred during my past missions.
Jeremy slowly descended the access ramp, supported by his daughter, and made his way toward the hangar entrance.
I watched them until the very last moment.
Just before disappearing behind the door, he turned back toward me...
...and raised a hand in farewell.
Then he was gone.
A bitter taste lingered in my mouth.
Had I pushed him too far?
Had I simply chosen the wrong moment?
Sooner or later...
Jeremy and I would have to talk.