Mikey wakes up slouched on the bench of the waiting room, his head heavy, his body still weak. His shirt is damp with sweat, his throat dry. The dim lights above hum, flickering slightly, and for a moment he forgets where he is. Then he sees Ryosuke sitting across from him, arms folded, eyes sharp but softened with concern. Tobi is pacing the corner, gnawing at his thumbnail, glancing at Mikey every few seconds.
"Finally," Ryosuke mutters, leaning forward. "You scared the hell out of us."
Mikey rubs at his forehead. "I scared myself..." His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. "What happened?"
"You puked out most of the linnium," Ryosuke answers flatly. "Your body is still adjusting."
Tobi steps in quickly, voice breaking a little. "You—you were out cold, man. For like... a while. I thought you weren't gonna—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head.
Mikey exhales and lets his head fall back against the wall. The faint taste of metal and bile lingers in his mouth. His thoughts drift back to the Predecessor, to the words still echoing in his skull. He mutters under his breath, almost not meaning to say it aloud.
"What package... what girl...?"
Ryosuke tilts his head. "What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Mikey shuts it down fast. He doesn't want to sound crazy—not right now, not after what just happened. The door to the waiting room slides open. Bobo steps in, his heavy boots dragging across the floor. His face is set hard, jaw clenched, but his eyes give away a storm he's trying to hide. Luce and Amelia aren't with him. He stops in front of Mikey, staring down at him.
"You alright, kid?"
Mikey shrugs, forcing himself upright though his body aches.
"I'll live."
Bobo studies him for a moment, then looks to Ryosuke and Tobi, whispering to them. "Keep him steady. He's not done here."
Tobi frowns. "What do you mean not done? He nearly—"
"Tests aren't over," Bobo cuts in, his tone sharp. "Not for him. Not for any of us."
The room goes quiet, the only sound the buzzing of the lights. Mikey looks at Bobo, sensing something in the older man's face—something heavier than just anger at the trials.
"What happened?" Mikey asks.
Bobo doesn't answer right away. He just shakes his head, muttering, "Nothing you need to worry about yet." Then he turns away, resting his metal hand against the wall. The dent in the steel paneling where his fist once struck still shows fresh in his knuckles.
---
In the first row of the stands, Amelia sat hunched forward, elbows on her knees, her hands laced together so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. The noise of the crowd had dulled now that the test had ended, but the air still felt heavy, almost suffocating. Luce sat beside her, silent, her long legs crossed, eyes fixed on the floor below where the last of the attendants were clearing the arena. Angelica leaned on the railing, fidgeting her fingers restlessly against the metal. Marlene, arms folded, stared at nothing, her jaw tight. Amelia exhaled hard, breaking the silence.
"That wasn't right. You all saw it—something was off. He didn't fail. That was a setup."
Luce didn't look at her. "Since when have they wanted anything else? You knew it was."
"That doesn't make it easier," Amelia said, louder this time. Her hands clenched tighter. "He's barely holding himself together and they're stacking the deck against him."
Luce shifted. Her tone was calm but edged. "It's Gerron. He doesn't trust Mikey, never did. That's all this is."
Angelica piped up suddenly, her small voice breaking the tension. "Mr. Mikey looked like he was dying."
The three of them went quiet for a moment. Marlene turned to her, her heart twisting at the blunt honesty. "He's not dying, sweetheart. He just... he's fighting hard. Harder than anyone should have to."
Angelica hugged her knees tighter, shaking her head. "But it was scary. His eyes rolled back. And he was shaking... like... like when the dogs got sick last winter." Her voice trembled but she pressed on, stubborn. "They shouldn't hurt him like that."
Amelia's throat tightened. She reached over, brushing Angelica's hair back gently. "You're right. They shouldn't."
Marlene finally turned back to them, her voice flat but not unkind. "Doesn't matter what we think. They'll keep pushing him until he breaks."
"No." Luce's voice cut in, firm now, her dark eyes narrowing. "He won't break. He's stronger than they think. Stronger than we think."
Amelia wanted to believe that. She let the silence stretch, the four of them sitting there, the Dome emptying around them. The floor below was bare now, cold and cavernous, the trial wiped clean like it had never happened. But for Amelia, the image of Mikey seizing and choking on the floor wouldn't leave her, no matter how hard she tried.
---
The waiting room was quiet except for the hum of the overhead vents. Mikey sat slouched against the bench, his legs stretched out, his chest still rising heavy from the strain. Ryosuke stood near the wall, arms folded, his gaze steady, while Tobi lingered close by, rubbing his palms together anxiously. Bobo sat in the corner with his head down. The silence pressed thick around them, like everyone was waiting for someone else to speak first. Finally, Tobi broke it, voice shaky but curious.
"What… what did you see in there, man? When you were out?"
Mikey's stomach twisted at the question. He thought of the visions, of Payne standing across from him, of that shimmering perfect world that had felt so alive he could almost taste it. And behind all of it—the Predecessor, his voice curling like smoke through his thoughts, the green eyes burning in the dark. His jaw clenched.
"I…" His voice cracked. He coughed, tried again. "It was… Payne."
Ryosuke lifted his head at that, his expression sharp. "Payne?"
Mikey nodded, though the weight of the word sat heavy in his mouth.
"Yeah. It was like… I was fighting him. Or maybe I wasn't. Hard to explain. And there was this place, like—like a perfect world. Everything felt right, like it was real. My parents were alive... and Payne was a good man. The council wasn't corrupt and the Defectors didn't exist..."
Tobi tilted his head, his eyes wide. "Like… a dream?"
"No." Mikey shook his head hard. "Dreams fade when you wake up. This—this stayed with me. I can still feel it, like it's lodged in my chest."
Silence again. Ryosuke shifted from the wall, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with thought.
"And what else?"
Mikey hesitated. His chest tightened at the thought of saying it—the Predecessor, the visions of futures that made him sick, the words about fate, about the girl and the package. If he told them, what would they think? That he was broken, delirious from the linnium? That he was dangerous? His throat closed up.
'No… not yet. I don't even know if that was real. I can't tell them yet... or at all..'
He forced a breath and shook his head. "That's it. Just Payne. And that world. Nothing else."
Tobi looked disappointed but didn't push. Ryosuke studied him longer, like he could see through the cracks in Mikey's words, but finally gave a slow nod.
"Then keep it with you. Don't let it shake you. Visions can be traps as much as they can be truths."
Mikey nodded, though the lie weighed heavy. He leaned back against the bench, staring up at the ceiling's flickering light. The Predecessor's voice still echoed inside his skull, relentless.
'Protect the girl. Find the package. Defy fate.'
Mikey clenched his fists against his knees, trying to steady the storm building in his chest.