"Thud!"
Victor-White hadn't even finished speaking when he felt himself being violently yanked toward the wall by an invisible force.
His forehead smashed solidly into the cold tiles. Pain made his vision black out, and he clutched his head, letting out a wail.
"Ow—!"
Serum tightened instantly in fright, the soft substance wrapping gently around his bumped forehead, asking softly with concern:
"Are... are you okay? Do you need me to do anything?"
Almost at the same instant, Victor-Grey in the hallway also stumbled as if hitting an invisible air wall. Synchronizing the movement, he clutched the exact same spot on his forehead, letting out the exact same cry of pain.
Riot waved his tentacles, twisting joyfully on Victor-Grey's head, emitting a cackling, extremely punchable laugh:
"Hahahaha! Idiot! Can't even walk properly! This cracks me up!"
Wednesday finally stopped and looked back at one Victor wailing in the toilet clutching his head, and the other jumping in the hallway clutching his head.
And those two vastly different symbiotes.
She calmly assessed this chaotic situation and reached an objective conclusion.
"Fine~"
She let go of Victor-Grey's hand, her tone carrying no apology, only fact-based judgment.
"It seems you need to familiarize yourself with operating these two bodies simultaneously first. This kind of pain synchronization and movement interference would be suicide in a dangerous environment."
Victor-White and Victor-Grey rubbed their foreheads synchronously and pitifully.
One consciousness was filled with immense helplessness and a trace of despair: This damn "twin" state was ten thousand times more troublesome than imagined!
---
Afternoon sunlight filtered through dense leaves onto the ground, casting dappled shadows.
Victor-Grey was being dragged forward by the arm by Wednesday, leaving no room for refusal.
"So—"
Victor-Grey's voice carried a trace of realization and amusement.
"You guys were so weird this morning, brushing foundation like crazy, staring blankly at the clue board... all because of this? Both wanted me to come out with you?"
Wednesday, walking beside him, maintained her cold, hard profile, her voice steady and waveless:
"Enid believes you need meaningless entertainment socializing for so-called 'relaxation.' While I believe your time should be invested in higher efficiency, more valuable matters, rather than wasted on superficial..."
Her voice stopped abruptly.
Her steps halted sharply, her body stiffening almost imperceptibly for an instant.
Her deep pool-like eyes glanced down slightly, landing on her hand wrapped in the black sleeve—
Another hand, belonging to Victor, was quietly, with warm body temperature, enclosing it completely in its palm.
"Victor."
Her voice betrayed no emotion, but listening carefully, one could catch a trace of extremely subtle, forcefully suppressed ripple.
"What is your hand doing?"
"Huh?"
Victor-Grey looked blank, looking down subconsciously.
When he saw his right hand tightly holding Wednesday's hand, his expression switched instantly from confusion to shock:
"Uh! Wait! Sorry! This isn't... I didn't mean to!"
He tried to pull his hand back, but stopped halfway, as if trying hard to focus and sense something.
"It's my right hand... its movement seems to have synchronized with the other side..."
He explained awkwardly, his eyes drifting, seemingly distracted sensing the other self's state.
"Let me see... uh... on the other Victor's side... Enid is dragging me shopping... no wonder..."
He took a deep breath, wearing a focused expression of "I'm trying hard to debug the system":
"Wait a moment, I'll try to cancel this sync command..."
"No." Wednesday spoke suddenly, interrupting his attempt.
Her gaze remained level on the corridor ahead, not looking at him, nor breaking free from his hand.
Her tone sounded the same as usual, that absolute rationality like discussing experimental data:
"No need to waste energy on such meaningless micromanagement. Current physical contact does not affect movement efficiency and analytical thinking."
Her voice was steady, but if one listened carefully, perhaps one could detect a trace of tremor, almost impossible to capture, beneath that cold vocal line.
Victor-Grey froze for a moment, then relaxed, even unconsciously tightening his grip slightly on her hand.
"Alright."
He smiled, his tone becoming relaxed and even a bit novel.
"Honestly... holding your hand like this feels kinda... weird. But not bad."
Wednesday didn't respond, just started walking, continuing to pull him forward.
Only the fingers held and hidden in the sleeve curled extremely slightly.
The two walked in silence, passing through the dense, gloomy woodlands behind the academy, and finally arrived at the location hinted at by Xavier's prophecy drawing—
A pitch-black cave entrance emitting the smell of damp earth and unknown scents.
Cold wind blew slowly from inside, carrying an unsettling hiss.
Victor-Grey's relaxed expression vanished instantly, replaced by subconscious vigilance.
He took a step forward, freeing himself from Wednesday's hand without a trace, blocking between her and the cave entrance with his body.
"Stay close to me."
His voice lowered. Those eyes usually dancing with madness or teasing now scanned every shadow of the entrance sharply.
"Let's go, let's see what's hidden inside."
He took point, bending first to drill into that thick darkness.
Wednesday fell behind, looking at his back blocking unhesitatingly in front, and the Riot on his head who had quieted down temporarily and was similarly sensing the surroundings vigilantly.
Her pale lips pursed slightly. A trace of extremely complex, indecipherable glimmer passed through the depths of her dark eyes.
Then, without a word, she followed him quietly and quickly into that unknown darkness.
Inside the cave, the light was dim. The air was filled with dust and the lingering musk of some beast.
Victor-Grey shone a flashlight, the beam sweeping over the cave walls and ground.
"Whoa~" He whistled flippantly at the sight before him.
The flashlight beam settled on corroded metal shackles, deep scratch marks on the rock wall, and several broken, twisted sharp claws scattered on the ground.
"Look what we found? Seems our Mr. Hyde has been a guest here more than once, enjoying some rather unfriendly 'hospitality'."
He squatted down, nose twitching slightly, sniffing the residual scents in the air carefully.
"No smell of disinfectant and cold metal... not the handiwork of the Plague Doctor."
He frowned, trying to distinguish.
"Only that sweet, delicious smell of the Hyde... and another person's scent. Very faint, but present. Looks like someone else holds the Hyde's leash."
He sniffed hard, showing confusion:
"Strange... I seem to have smelled this other person's scent somewhere before?"
Wednesday squatted behind him. Her gloved fingertips carefully picked up a broken claw, examining the cut closely by the light.
"Bring it back for DNA comparison. Perhaps there are clues in the police's missing persons or criminal database."
Her voice was calm as always, as if collecting ordinary experimental specimens.
"Good idea!"
Victor-Grey also picked up another larger broken claw with a grin, weighing it in his hand, eyes shining.
"But I think a better destiny for it is to become my private collection! Look at this curve! This sharpness! Polish it up, inlaid on a picture frame or the dorm fireplace as decoration would be simply perfect!"
"Hydes are pretty rare creatures, aren't they?"
He even started gesturing.
"It would be even cooler if we could get its whole skull to hang up!"
Hearing this, Wednesday turned her head to look at him. Her pale face showed no disapproval; instead, she nodded extremely slightly, her tone even carrying a trace of rare, near-appreciative agreement:
"Decent aesthetic. Possesses primitive and direct death deterrence."
Receiving affirmation, the smile on Victor-Grey's face grew brighter.
However, this "Gothic harmony" atmosphere didn't last a few seconds.
The smile on Victor-Grey's face froze suddenly. His eyes went blank, as if his attention was instantly drawn away, and a sentence completely irrelevant to the current scene, spoken in a smitten tone, blurted out:
"Oh, my god... Enid... you look... absolutely beautiful in that..."
The cave fell into deathly silence instantly.
Only the dust floating in the flashlight beam danced silently.
Wednesday turned her head slowly, extremely slowly. Her deep gaze, like two frozen lakes, silently locked onto Victor-Grey.
Victor-Grey snapped back to reality, realized what he said, and immediately touched his nose awkwardly:
"Uh... Sorry! Language function synced again just now! Let me check what's going on over there..."
He closed his eyes, seeming to focus on sensing the other end of the shared consciousness.
A few seconds later, he opened his eyes, tone carrying a helpless admiration and a trace of showing off he didn't even notice himself:
"Oh... Enid and I are picking out dresses for tomorrow night's ball... Mmm... honestly... that dress... really is... quite beautiful..."
His voice grew smaller as he spoke, because the look Wednesday gave him was no longer just cold; it was almost condensing substantial ice picks.
The instinct to survive made him try to remedy it. He squeezed out a brilliant and stupid smile, changing the subject sharply:
"Hey! Wednesday! I mean... look! The ball! Let's go too? Let's go buy formal wear too! How about it?"
Wednesday's brows furrowed abruptly, as if hearing something utterly unreasonable.