The lecture finally ended. Henry stepped out into the crisp air of the campus garden, pulling out his phone to dial Beast. He pressed the receiver to his ear, only to be met with a cold, automated recording:
"The number you are dialing is not responding at the moment. Please try again later."
Damn you, Beast, Henry thought, shoving the phone back into his pocket.
Miles away and thousands of feet in the air, Beast was entirely oblivious. He was snoring softly, curled up comfortably in an airplane seat on his long flight back to Canada.
Meanwhile,
Ethan, Asher, and Liam finally reached the safety of their submarine. Ethan was a map of white bandages—thick layers wrapped tightly around his palm, his foot, and his thigh. He leaned heavily against the bulkhead as he sat down, while Asher silently bypassed them, heading straight for the control room to chart their course.
Liam walked over and sank into the seat beside Ethan. The adrenaline from the encounter was finally fading, leaving behind a heavy exhaustion.
"That big guy... he was really strong," Liam said, staring at the floor.
Ethan gave a tired nod.
Liam took a deep breath, turning to look at his friend. "It seemed like he knew you. Is that true?"
"Yeah," Ethan replied, his voice quiet. "I think... I think he was an old friend of my father's."
Liam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He digested the information for a moment, then gave a slow, single nod. Attempting to shift the heavy mood,
Ethan smiled, "Well... at least we won."
"How?" Liam asked, leaning in.
"I found out the logistics of their illegal operation for this specific branch," Ethan said. He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen to bring up a gallery of encrypted photos, and turned it toward Liam. "And I have the evidence to prove it."
Liam's smile turned genuine. "Brilliant. We can use this to completely shut down the Fourth Branch of Loop."
Ethan nodded, handing the phone over so Liam could analyze the files.
"You need to rest," Liam urged softly, noticing the dark circles under his friend's eyes.
Ethan didn't argue. He leaned his head back against the seat, letting his eyelids fall shut. Almost instantly, the hum of the submarine faded, and his mind drifted backward through time.
In his mind's eye, he was a little boy again.
He was standing in a sunlit bedroom, watching a man with a broad, commanding back. The man was kneeling on the floor, intently tying his shoelaces. Bright beams of morning sunlight streamed through the window, cutting through the room.
"Papa, where are you going?" Little Ethan asked, stepping closer to his father.
The man stood up, towering over him, before turning around. Little Ethan looked up, but the harsh glare of the sunlight directly behind his father cast the man's face into a dark silhouette.
His father knelt down to match his height and gently patted Ethan's head. "I'm going away for work, big guy."
Ethan's face immediately fell.
"Don't be sad," his father whispered. "I'll be back before you know it."
"No, Father! You always say that, and then you stay away for a really long time," Little Ethan protested, pouting.
His father chuckled warmly. "Well, I have to go to Russia, and important work takes time."
Ethan stubbornly sat right down on the floor, crossing his arms. "No!"
Hearing the commotion, Ethan's mother walked into the room. She sat down on the floor beside him, pulling him into a gentle embrace, but Ethan squirmed out of her grip, thoroughly upset. She noticed what was going on.
"Ethan, your father has to go. It's for his job," his mother explained softly.
Ethan shook his head violently. "NO! NO! NO!"
"Ethan, I promise I will be back soon," his father reiterated, trying to soothe him.
But the boy kept shaking his head. Then, a sudden spark of inspiration hit him. "I want to go too! I'll come with you!"
Who could have known that a single, childish decision would change the course of everything?
"Ethan, your father is going to be incredibly busy with meetings. You'll just get bored," his mother reasoned.
"No, I won't! I'm going!" Ethan declared, his little chest puffed out.
His father smiled, seemingly amused by the boy's stubbornness.
"If you leave, I'll be all alone here," his mother said, playing her last card.
Ethan didn't skip a beat. "No, you won't. I'm going with Father, and you have Daisy here with you."
His mother sighed, looking across at her husband, silently asking for his input.
"I'll take him with me," his father decided.
"But—"
"Don't worry," his father interrupted gently, a knowing look in his eyes. "I'll make sure he doesn't get bored."
His mother paused, then finally gave a resigned nod. "Okay. I'll go pack his things."
Ethan's face lit up. "Yeah!"
A few minutes later, his mother returned with a small travel bag. Ethan snatched it up, grabbed his father's large hand, and practically dragged the grown man out the front door.
"Bye!" Ethan yelled over his shoulder to his mother.
The memory shifted rapidly. They were in the car, speeding toward the tarmac. Then, they were walking across the runway directly toward a sleek, luxury aircraft.
"Sir, the jet is ready."
"WOW! Father, do you own a private jet?" Ethan asked, his eyes wide with awe.
"No, this was sent by a friend of mine in Russia," his father replied.
They boarded the plane and took their seats. As the jet began to taxi, Ethan peered out the window and noticed another private jet roaring down the parallel runway, lifting off into the sky. When Ethan turned back to look at his father, the man was already glued to his phone, a laptop open on his lap.
Father is always working, Ethan thought to himself, turning back to watch the ground shrink beneath them as the jet pierced the clouds...
Suddenly, Ethan's eyes snapped open.
The dream shattered. He was back in the dim, cramped quarters of the submarine. He looked around; the main lights were turned off, and Asher was fast asleep in a nearby chair, snoring softly.
Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to check the time. A notification badge popped up—a message from his mother. A rare, unconscious smile touched his lips.
Checking the timestamp, he realized he had been asleep for exactly four hours, and her message had arrived just as he closed his eyes.
He quickly typed out a reply. Within seconds, the three dots appeared, and her response flashed on the screen.
As the submarine glided silently through the dark ocean depths toward Terminal A4, Ethan sat in the quiet dark, texting his mother back and forth.