The Old Carbon Factory
The factory stood in silence.....abandoned, desolate. Weeds had claimed every corner, wild grass pushing up through cracks in the floor, turning the ruins into something closer to a jungle than a man-made building. Years ago, the fire had ravaged everything here, leaving only charred skeletons of walls and shadows of the past.
In one of the forgotten rooms, a boy sat alone.
The space was swallowed by darkness, the air heavy and still. Only the faint glow of a lamp lit his table, throwing weak light across his hands. His eyes were fixed on the paper in front of him, intent, unblinking, as he carefully drew out tattoo designs. Every stroke was deliberate, every line etched with meaning, as though he were carving secrets into the silence.
---
Meanwhile…
Elsewhere, Warawee's sleep had already been disturbed.
Lamai was standing over her, shaking her with both hands, her voice sharp and impatient.
"Wee… you idiot! Get up right now and get ready...or else we're going to be late! Wee, come on, wake up already!"
But Warawee didn't budge. It was as though she were lost in her dream world, unconcerned with anything around her. And yet, somewhere deep down, she knew Lamai's voice was calling, pulling her back to reality.
Then Lamai shouted again, louder this time, her voice so sharp that even Yen downstairs could hear:
"Wee! If you don't get up right now, we'll be late for Show Land!"
At that, Warawee jolted upright as if her very soul had been shaken awake.
---
Somewhere Else…
And far away, Komkai was already on the move.
Her face unreadable, she drove Her car through the city streets with purpose....heading toward something only she knew.