The corridor felt heavier after that.
Not physically.
Something else.
Like the air had thickened without warning.
Juson stood near the door, his eyes fixed on the small glass window. Inside, Herik lay still on the bed, surrounded by machines that blinked in steady, controlled rhythms. Each beep felt precise. Measured.
Too normal.
After everything that had happened, that steady rhythm felt wrong.
He should move.
He should go inside.
But his body didn't respond.
Behind him, footsteps approached. Quick. Uneven.
Juson turned.
Yokina was walking toward him, her phone still in her hand. Her breathing was shallow, her grip tight like she hadn't realized she was still holding it.
"Something's wrong with Hakiten," she said.
Her voice cracked at the end.
Juson frowned. "Slow down."
"Go to Wanna's house," she said quickly. "Please. Ask her."
The words came out too fast, almost overlapping.
Juson stared at her for a second.
Hakiten.
Now?
His mind struggled to shift. Herik was inside that room. Unconscious. And now this.
Why does it feel connected?
He exhaled slowly and nodded.
"Stay here," he said. "I'll be back."
Yokina didn't argue.
That worried him more than anything.
As Juson turned and started walking, the lights above him flickered.
Sharp.
Sudden.
He didn't stop.
Not yet.
Near the reception desk, a woman stood with a telephone pressed to her ear, then pulling it away, then pressing it again.
"It's not working," she muttered under her breath.
Juson slowed down.
The silence in the corridor felt off.
Not quiet.
Wrong.
Like something had been cut out of it.
The machines should be louder.
The people should be talking.
But everything felt distant.
Then—
The phone rang.
Loud.
Clear.
The woman froze.
Juson turned back instinctively, his chest tightening.
The lights above him steadied.
No flicker.
No sound.
Everything normal again.
Too normal.
Juson stood there for a moment, his mind trying to catch up.
Did I imagine that?
No.
He didn't believe that.
He walked out of the hospital, but the feeling followed him.
Something was changing.
And it wasn't stopping.
---
Inside the room, Yokina stood beside Herik.
The machines around him beeped softly, filling the silence in small, steady intervals. The oxygen mask fogged faintly with each weak breath he took.
Yokina stepped closer.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
"Oh, honey…" she whispered.
Her voice barely existed.
Herik didn't move.
Didn't react.
Didn't even seem like he heard her.
A sharp ache spread through her chest.
This isn't him.
She reached out slowly, her hand trembling as it moved toward his.
"Don't touch him."
The doctor's voice cut through the moment.
Yokina froze.
Her fingers stopped just inches away.
She pulled her hand back immediately, as if she had done something wrong.
"Let the machines do their work," the doctor said calmly.
Yokina nodded, but her eyes stayed on Herik.
She stepped back.
As she did, Herik's closed fist loosened slightly.
For a brief second—
Something appeared.
A faint blue circle on his palm.
Soft.
Glowing.
Like light trapped beneath his skin.
It shimmered once.
Then vanished.
Yokina didn't see it.
The doctor didn't see it.
But something inside the room shifted.
They began moving the bed.
The wheels creaked softly as it rolled forward.
The moment it moved—
Herik's fingers twitched.
The monitor spiked sharply.
A sudden, sharp sound cut through the air.
Then—
Darkness.
The lights snapped out all at once.
Everything disappeared.
The machines fell silent.
The steady beeping vanished.
The room was swallowed whole.
Yokina's breath caught.
"What—?"
Outside, the doctor stepped into the corridor.
Every light in the hospital was gone.
No backup.
No flicker.
Nothing.
Silence spread everywhere.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
Behind them, on the bed—
Herik's eyes flickered open.
For a second.
Just enough to reveal a faint glow deep within them.
Then they closed again.
Like nothing had happened.