"I was practicing suturing; we had our practical exam today; why would I be wasting my time on other things? I have my priorities straight." I said and took a sip of my chamomile tea.
Katherine leaned back like I'd insulted her ancestors. "How are we even friends?"
Across the table, Coral blinked at me from behind her mountain of whipped cream. Why was she having something like that for lunch, anyway? She breathed, "It wasn't some on-site Q&A; it was actually a recorded interview."
I frowned; it made sense; it was going to happen someday; almost three years, and we had little to no information about whatever was happening, granted in three years we had anomalies fifteen times. It definitely wasn't an everyday occurrence, but Vale was the only one who could smooth out the situation.
Many countries went through civil unrest, demanding the government for answers. People flooded the internet with conspiracy theories.
Then there was the matter of international relations; the heads of state must have been in doubt whether this was truly a collective danger or just an attack from another country.
There might have been a lot of backlash if done before; no one was going to trust some unknown person. In fact, people would have considered the government to be in cahoots with him.
However, right now, people understood how helpful Vale was; he was a superhero in the truest sense. The protest has quelled down; people had to be given a sense of security to continue maintaining order. An exclusive interview with Vale might be the best decision in the political and social scenario.
"ninety minutes and thirty-two seconds of supernatural charm and reckless flirtation," Kathy said, "And I have downloaded it in 4K!"
"For academic reasons." She then added.
"It was all over the news and the internet...how come you don't know about it?" Coral added in wonder.
"I had my final exam and---"
And you were…elbow-deep in cadavers?" Katherine was already tapping at her screen like it owed her rent.
"I'm not apologizing for my priorities."
"Well, I am," she muttered.
"He smiled," Coral added, dreamy-eyed. "Like—actually smiled. People fainted. One guy cried."
"That sounds like a neurological issue," I murmured, "not a romantic one."
Katherine grinned. "Come on. Don't pretend you're not curious." Narrowing her eyes.
"Plus, you're not fooling anyone with that emotionally detached energy."
She leaned in as if she were passing state secrets. "Annndddd — you're going to watch it. Right. Now."
"I'd rather not—"
"Too late."
Coral hit play.
The video filled Katherine's screen. I knew my face already had a scowl, or at least a frown. I didn't have two hours to waste on an interview I could easily watch later—preferably alone. At the moment, I would rather finish my lunch. Besides, I still had a conference to attend.
The credits rolled, and the reporter began the introduction. Applause rippled through the room as the camera shifted.
He sat like he owned the surrounding air. The white mask covered only the area around his eyes with fine silver trim. His posture wasn't regal; it was relaxed. One knee crossed over the other, fingers steepled loosely. Not a man braced for scrutiny. A man entirely unbothered by it. His platinum hair fell in tousled layers that framed his face. Soft strands casting shadows that moved when he spoke. They called it a wolf-cut, yet he made it seem as if they named it after him.
And his eyes… aqua. Not the poetic kind. They were cutting. Luminous. The kind of blue that burned cold and held too many secrets. You didn't meet them. They held you captive.
He shifted slightly in the chair, silver cloak falling in a ripple of fabric that glinted like water under moonlight
Then his mouth moved. Not a smile. Not quite. Just the slow lift of one corner, the kind of crooked curve that looked almost… intentional. Like he knew exactly what he was doing with it.
Effortless.
My breath stalled somewhere in my throat. A small, strange pull tightened beneath my collarbone, quick and quiet, but impossible to miss. I felt it.
I didn't blink.
Instead, I kept my face still, like smoothing a wrinkle out of fabric before anyone could see it.
Because whatever he was, I wasn't about to be pulled in the way the rest of the world seemed to be.
I forced my attention back to the broadcast.
The reporter's voice was crisp and careful. "Apologies, but some say you're not human. An alien, perhaps. What do you say to that?"
"An alien?" he repeated thoughtfully.
"No. I'm afraid I'm far less interesting than that."
The reporter gave a short laugh before quickly straightening again.
The reporter nodded quickly, pressing forward. "You've briefed us before, but for the sake of clarity, could you explain again? What exactly are we dealing with?"
Vale didn't answer immediately.
"What we're seeing," he said after a moment, "is a distortion between time and space. Two separate points becoming… briefly connected." His voice remained steady. "They resemble portals, but that's not quite accurate."
He paused, as if searching for a simpler way to explain. "Imagine throwing a handful of paper balls toward a box from across the room. Most will miss. But now and then, one will land inside. Right now, Earth is the box."
The reporter blinked. "So the creatures we're seeing—"
"—are the paper balls," Vale finished.
A ripple of murmurs moved through the crowd.
"Does that mean aliens exist?" the reporter asked
"It is we who have been arrogant enough to consider humans are the only living being in the vast universe: these being are enough to prove we are not the only ones out there.
"Then where are they coming from?" the reporter pressed. "Another planet? Another galaxy?"
"Possibly," Vale said. "Or somewhere closer than that. They could be creatures from another point in time. From Earth's past. Its future. Or somewhere beyond our current understanding."
His gaze remained steady.
"For now, we simply don't know."
The reporter hesitated before asking the question everyone was thinking. "Then how long will this go on?" He asked. "And if you're just human… what happens when you're gone?"
For a moment, Vale didn't answer.
"I don't know how long it will last," he said at last. "Neither does anyone else."
His voice stayed even. "But this was never meant to depend on one person."
A brief pause. "Humanity existed long before I showed up."
His gaze lifted slightly, as if looking beyond the cameras. "And it will exist long after I'm gone."
Then he added, quieter: "My job is simply to make sure you get there."
"Would you be willing to work with scientists?" the reporter asked. "To study these anomalies more closely so that we can understand them better?
"I'm not opposed to research," he said calmly.
"But understanding something like this will take more than laboratory experiments. These anomalies don't follow rules we fully understand yet. If scientists can help us reach that understanding faster, then yes, of course I would cooperate."
The interviewer continued, rattling off questions like bullets. The kind governments were probably holding meetings about.
The reporter glanced at his notes before asking the ultimate question.
"One last thing. People want to know where your abilities come from? Why do you keep your identity hidden? And how do you repair the damage after these anomalies occur?"
For the first time since the interview began, Vale didn't respond. Silence stretched across the studio. Behind the mask, his expression didn't change.
"I believe," he said calmly, "we've covered what the public needs to know for today."
The reporter blinked. "So you won't—"
"My origins," he interrupted gently, "are not important. What matters is that the anomalies close and that people survive them."
He set the microphone down on the table.
The message was obvious.
The interview was over.
The reporter straightened slightly and turned back toward the camera.
"Well… that was Vale. We hope this interview has offered some insight into the situation surrounding the anomalies."
His voice slipped into the practiced cadence of a closing broadcast as the music began to rise softly beneath it.
"We'll continue to bring you updates as the story develops."
The screen shifted to the network logo as the segment faded out.
Coral was still staring with her spoon suspended midair. "He's like something out of a fairytale."
There was a dramatic pause. Then Katherine turned to me, expectant. "Well?"
I took a slow sip of my tea.
She leaned forward immediately. "Final thoughts? Emotional awakening? Forbidden yearning? Mysterious trauma bond?"
"The questions were very well though out" I said.
Katherine made a sound like a dying opera singer and slumped back in her seat. "This is the tragic result of Asian parenting."
Coral nodded solemnly, as if this explained everything. "We're never getting romance out of her."
I exhaled slowly to mark the moment. "My tolerance for nonsense has reached its limit," I said flatly.
Katherine grinned like she'd just won something. "That was almost an emotion."
I sighed again, quieter this time. "How did she become my friend again?"
Coral tilted her head and smiled, "You like us. That's how."
I didn't respond, though she had a point.
Instead, I continued sipping the tea that had been refilled far too many times.