The sound of the ventilation fan continued—steady, mechanical, indifferent.
Canta lay wedged inside the narrow casing, his body pressed into cold metal from all sides. At some point, the trembling had stopped. Not because the situation had improved—but because his body no longer had the strength to respond.
His breathing slowed.
Shallow. Controlled at first.
Then… weaker.
The sharp burning in his lungs faded gradually. The urge to cough disappeared. Even the pain from the cuts dulled into something distant—barely noticeable, like a memory rather than a sensation.
His bleeding had slowed. Not by recovery, but by exhaustion.
His body was shutting down.
The sound of the fan blurred.
The airflow that once felt suffocating now felt… far away.
His vision darkened—not from closing his eyes, but from something deeper. A quiet fading.
Thoughts loosened.
Drifted.
Then—
Silence.
—
He opened his eyes.
He was no longer in the vent.
He was sitting in his room.
The same room.
Books scattered across the floor and table, some open, some stacked carelessly. The walls were familiar. The shape of the furniture unchanged.
But something was wrong.
The light.
It was too white.
Too clean.
Too even.
There were no shadows.
The air felt sterile. Still. Slightly cold.
The window—blocked.
The door—closed.
Locked.
Canta sat on the bed.
He didn't question it.
He simply moved.
His hand reached toward the pillow. He lifted it slightly.
Something was there.
A diary.
He pulled it out and opened it.
The page was dated:
9th November 2021
Below it—
lines.
Words.
But they felt… hidden.
Unreadable.
As if they existed, but weren't meant to be seen.
He stared at it for a few seconds.
Then—
A sound.
His phone buzzed.
He picked it up.
The screen lit up.
The wallpaper had changed.
No longer the sun.
Now—
a plain white room.
A sterile ceiling.
Empty.
Cold.
An alarm notification blinked:
"Study time — 3 hours."
Canta looked at it.
Then nodded slightly.
"Oh… right."
He stood up.
Walked to the table.
Opened a physics book.
And began reading.
Time passed.
Not quickly.
Not slowly.
Just… precisely.
Every movement felt measured.
Every page turned without hesitation.
His eyes grew tired—but he didn't stop.
He didn't think about stopping.
When the alarm ended—
another one came.
9:00 PM — Dinner
He turned his head.
A tray had been pushed under the door.
He hadn't heard it arrive.
He walked over.
Picked it up.
Ate.
No taste.
No reaction.
Then—
another alarm.
10:00 PM — Plan for tomorrow
He opened his phone.
Typed:
"School. Study biology and chemistry."
Saved it.
Then—
another alarm.
10:30 PM — Sleep
He paused.
Then reached for another diary.
This one—
new.
He opened it.
Wrote slowly.
17 April 2026
I am following what I was told…
His pen stopped.
Then continued.
But I feel it sucks.
A pause.
It sucks so much…
that I feel like my core is decomposing.
He closed the diary.
Lay down.
Closed his eyes.
—
He woke up.
Not because he wanted to.
Because his body forced him to.
A sharp pressure.
His bladder.
He opened his eyes.
The fan was there.
The noise came rushing back—
loud.
Too loud.
The confined space returned instantly.
Metal. Dust. Heat.
Reality.
His head filled with thoughts.
That wasn't luck.… Is this a part of some conspiracy .
The one who tightened the bolts…
The one who left him alive…
The fan's roar grew louder in his ears.
Annoying.
Relentless.
He couldn't move.
Not properly.
His body refused.
But his mind—
started working again.
I need a plan.
But he couldn't act yet.
Not like this.
Not without another opportunity.
The pressure in his body increased.
Unavoidable.
He blinked slowly.
Then—very faintly—
smiled.
"...oops," he murmured weakly.
"I need to piss."
There was no space.
No place.
Only the narrow corner where his body barely fit.
He shifted slightly.
Pain shot through him—but he endured it.
Then—
he relieved himself there.
Quietly.
Without shame.
Without hesitation.
Because survival didn't allow dignity.
—
Elsewhere—
Joseph stood outside a police station.
Again.
Paper in hand.
Report rewritten.
Refiled.
Repeated.
"I'm telling you," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "he wouldn't just disappear like this."
The officer nodded.
"We're doing what we can."
"We've circulated his photo. It's in newspapers."
"But there's no confirmed lead yet."
Joseph exhaled slowly.
From the outside—
he looked calm.
Controlled.
But his fingers trembled slightly as he held the paper.
His grip tightened.
Just enough to crease it.
Inside—
something was breaking.
He turned and left.
The walk back to the apartment felt longer than usual.
Quieter.
When he reached the building—
someone was there.
Jessica.
She noticed him immediately.
"Sir…"
He stopped.
"I heard… your nephew…"
Joseph nodded once.
"Yes."
Jessica swallowed.
A faint unease crept into her expression.
"I remember… he was asking about those missing posters…"
Her voice trailed off.
"…and now he's missing too."
A silence followed.
Not spoken.
But understood.
From inside a nearby apartment—
a television blared loudly.
Too loud.
The sound spilled into the hallway.
"…breaking update—"
Both of them turned slightly.
The voice continued.
"—the so-called 'truth speaker' has gained significant public support over the past few days—"
The screen flickered.
A man appeared.
Crowned.
Unusual.
Speaking to a growing crowd.
"…his influence continues to rise—"
Then—
another figure stepped forward.
Rei.
Calm.
Confident.
"We promise change," he said clearly.
"If our leader becomes mayor…"
"I promise—"
"To end crime."
"To end kidnappings."
"To eliminate drug networks."
"And build a safe, healthy society."
His voice carried conviction.
Precision.
Belief.
Jessica stared at the screen.
Joseph didn't react.
But something about the timing—
felt wrong.
Because somewhere—
hidden beneath layers of metal, dust, and silence—
Canta was still alive.
Barely.
And the world above—
was promising safety.
While he suffocated below it.
---
The convoy moved silently through the forest beneath the mountains.
Sam, Erina, several experimented humans, research materials, and Louis were all being transported away from the previous facility. Rabasa had stayed behind.
Cold fog covered the roads as the vehicles advanced deeper into the mountains. From the distance, the lights of the city flickered faintly through the mist. Above them, an airplane crossed the dark sky.
Sam sat quietly inside the vehicle.
He rarely sulked.
But now, his eyes remained fixed on the distant city lights while he repeated only one name under his breath.
"Aya…"
The voice was so faint even Erina, sitting beside him, could barely hear it.
Meanwhile, Erina was lost in thought herself. She kept calculating her next move. Returning to her normal life was impossible now. Too risky. Too many things had already happened.
After nearly an hour, the convoy finally reached the Gruise Mountains.
The true root of Ferk.
K39 Unit.
The vehicles slowed near what appeared to be an ordinary rocky mountain wall. Then the ground trembled slightly.
Massive sections of rock shifted apart mechanically, revealing a gigantic hidden entrance beneath the mountain itself.
One by one, the convoy vehicles entered the underground facility.
Inside Sam's vehicle were Louis, several experimental capsules, research files, weapons, and a newly manufactured AWM sniper rifle resting beside him.
As the vehicle stopped, a man approached them.
He was around 165 centimeters tall with messy brown hair and careless-looking eyes. Despite his appearance, his gaze immediately locked onto the sniper rifle.
Sam picked it up and handed it to him.
"It's your gift, Rodon."
Rodon's face lit up instantly.
"Thanks, buddy. Look at this beauty…"
He examined the rifle excitedly before finally noticing Erina's expression.
"What happened to you?"
Erina replied coldly, "You don't know what happened ?"
Rodon shrugged casually.
"He was just playing. Honestly, compared to what we do here, this isn't even that big of a problem."
Then he smirked slightly.
"Though it probably means you can't go outside anymore. But Stop sulking and work before your superior gets angry."
His tone was careless. Sarcastic. Almost irritatingly calm.
Erina stared at him silently.
Then she looked away.
"I'm going to my room."
As she walked deeper into the facility, only one thought echoed in her mind.
I can't stand Rodon's carelessness. At least now he should act serious.
Around her, guards lined up and carried research materials deeper underground.
Among them, she noticed Aron moving several heavy crates.
The moment Aron saw her, he lowered his head slightly.
"Good evening, madam."
Erina smiled faintly.
He's only here because I opened a path for him.
Meanwhile, another thought crossed Sam's mind.
I shouldn't waste any more time.
Louis was still unconscious.
Several guards approached immediately.
"Sir, we'll carry him."
Sam shook his head.
"No. I'll do it myself."
In one hand, he carried Louis.
In the other were research papers and a carefully protected glass tube containing a strange black substance.
Something capable of determining the fate of humanity itself.
Sam eventually entered a white capsule chamber deep inside the facility.
The room was quiet.
Sterile.
Cold.
He placed Louis inside one of the capsules before sitting nearby with a cup of coffee in his hand.
A few minutes later, Louis slowly regained consciousness.
His eyes opened weakly.
"Oh… so I didn't die back then…"
Then another thought crossed his mind.
Maybe I should have.
He looked around and realized he was trapped inside a reinforced experimental capsule. Sam sat nearby calmly drinking coffee.
Five minutes passed in silence.
Suddenly, Louis punched the capsule wall.
The glass didn't even crack.
He slowly sat back down.
"Why didn't you experiment on me while I was unconscious?"
Sam took another sip of coffee before replying calmly.
"You tried escaping and failed. So I thought I could at least fulfill your final wishes before continuing the experiments."
Louis stared at him.
"One wish?"
"Yes."
"Can you let me go?"
Sam answered immediately.
"No. That's impossible."
Louis lowered his eyes slightly.
"Then I have two wishes."
Sam smiled faintly.
"Go ahead."
"Give me a pen and paper."
Sam handed them over silently.
Louis slowly wrote a short message in cursive handwriting.
Please forgive me.
It was addressed to his mother.
He handed the paper back.
"Give this to my mom."
Sam looked at the note.
"What's your address?"
Louis shook his head.
"I won't give it. Find it yourself. If I tell you directly, my family could become involved too."
Sam looked at him for a few seconds.
"Smart."
Then he asked, "What's your second wish?"
Louis looked toward the coffee cup in Sam's hand.
"I want to drink coffee."
Sam looked genuinely amused.
"Coffee?"
Louis nodded.
"I've never tasted it before. But people who drink coffee always look mature."
For the first time, Sam laughed quietly.
A few moments later, Louis took a sip.
His face twisted immediately.
"It's bitter…"
Sam watched him silently.
Then he pressed a switch beside the capsule.
Gas slowly filled the chamber.
Louis' consciousness faded within seconds.
After he collapsed completely, Sam carefully opened the glass tube containing the black substance.
The dark liquid-like mass slowly entered Louis' body through his mouth, ears, and nose.
And the experiment began.