Phase 08

David's Perspective

"Dreamer," I paused in my stride as that familiar voice called out to me the moment I stepped into the lobby.

"Kevin," I acknowledged upon sighting him in the adjacent hallway.

"Come, I have something to discuss with you," he beckoned, leading me to a bench positioned in the center of the lobby. We settled down, and I patiently awaited his revelation.

"What is it?" I inquired, eager to know the purpose of our rendezvous.

"But before that, how are you feeling?" he inquired, genuine concern etched across his face.

"Not entirely well, but I am managing," I replied, attempting to maintain composure.

"I am deeply sorry for what transpired. I had assumed that your safety tether was secured to mine. I failed to double-check," he confessed, his remorse evident.

"What occurred was an unfortunate accident, Kevin. It was not your fault," I reassured him, seeking to alleviate any guilt he harbored.

"As your senior, it was my responsibility, and I faltered. I apologize sincerely. You were placed in grave danger due to my negligence," he expressed, remorse weighing heavily upon him.

"If that is how you perceive the situation, then I forgive you. Now, what is the matter at hand?" I redirected the conversation, recognizing that the incident had already transpired.

"Green Cage requires additional personnel. Director Mandryx has volunteered to fill the position, and Vincent suggested that you assist him. It is only for a week, would that be acceptable to you?" I maintained my usual smile, concealing any apprehension.

"Why me?" I inquired politely, questioning the rationale behind selecting a newcomer lacking experience over seasoned colleagues.

"You are the only one available. It is only for a week, and I promise you will find it enjoyable," he enthused, urging my agreement, as I reluctantly nodded, cursing inwardly.

How could I possibly relish working in an unfamiliar environment, particularly with the person I actively avoided?

"Thank you, Thunder. Tomorrow, the Director will collect you. Tonight, let me treat you to dinner," he excitedly offered before bidding me farewell.

As I rose from my seat, my progress was arrested by the sight of Vincent occupying the space before me. His gaze fixed upon me, devoid of emotion. Raising an eyebrow in silent inquiry, I awaited his words.

"What is it?" I asked, breaking the silence when he remained silent.

"What is your relationship with Director Mandryx?" he inquired, his eyes narrowing. I rolled my eyes at him before reclining against the sofa's backrest.

"None," I replied, wary of divulging the true nature of my connection with Mandryx and Étienne.

"I saw the ring," his observation prompted me to conceal the foolish trinket, given the keenness of the eyes that scrutinized our surroundings.

"What of the ring?" I nonchalantly shrugged.

"Unless my memory fails me, it appeared to be an engagement ring. Is Director Mandryx your husband?" he pressed.

"Absolutely not. Perhaps the ring you refer to bears a resemblance to his. This is the first time I have laid eyes upon him or heard his name," I calmly stated, refusing to offer further information.

"Stop pretending. I overheard your conversation with him," he challenged, his persistence unwavering.

"Did you hear anything that suggests a connection between us?" I countered, met with silence.

"If there is nothing further, I shall take my leave," I declared, departing the scene.

In this world, one must exercise discretion and avoid delving into every detail that sparks curiosity. There are boundaries to respect, safeguarding others' privacy. Hoping to find solace within these confines, I sought out Frans in his room, but to no avail. Thus, I retreated to my own quarters. Yet, instead of peace, I encountered the opposite—encountering two individuals who had once held significance in my life. Collapsing onto my bed, I gazed up at the ceiling, idly occupying my mind with nothingness until exhaustion claimed me, plunging me into unconsciousness.

I awoke precisely at 7:00 in the evening, a relentless knock on my door interrupting my slumber. I answered, finding Kevin standing there, his face radiating with anticipation.

"Hmm?" I responded, curious as to his purpose.

"Dinner," he declared, a hint of excitement evident in his voice.

"Come in, let me change before we leave," I suggested, allowing him entry.

After swiftly changing into appropriate attire, we proceeded to the dining area, where a wide array of dishes tantalized the senses. It struck me that the food here was not complimentary, a curiosity as to why the company did not cover this expense lingering in my mind. Seated at a central location, we were visible to all, but the lack of embarrassment stemmed from the indifference of those around us.

"Shall we order? I am famished," Kevin declared, to which I nodded in agreement.

Despite his intrusive nature, this engineer was not entirely disagreeable. Our only source of contention lay in the occasional instability of his thought process.

"Could you enlighten me about this Green Cage?" I inquired, steering the conversation towards a different topic.

"It's the area where we cultivate and study underwater flora," he explained.

"Is it a single vast cavern or multiple interconnected ones?" I probed further.

"It's a single expansive cave, a semicircular formation with 50 chambers. There's a central tower and tunnels connecting all the rooms. Moreover, the cave is not devoid of illumination, as it contains luminescent rocks," he detailed.

"What is our purpose there, exactly?" I questioned, seeking clarification.

"We will be engaged in observation," he replied simply.

"For an entire week?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the duration.

"Yes, indeed," he affirmed.

Our conversation was interrupted as our orders arrived. I observed that the fare predominantly consisted of vegetables. While I am not particularly fond of greens, I had no other choice. We commenced our meal in silence, while simultaneously observing the bustling activity throughout the venue. Individuals within this laboratory seemed indifferent to their surroundings, behaving as though they were the sole occupants. It was this aspect of the environment that I found appealing—regardless of the magnitude of one's blunders, nobody paid them any mind. Embarrassment held no dominion here.

"By the way, care to shed some light on your connection with Director Étienne?" he interjected suddenly, causing my spoon to freeze halfway to my mouth.

"What do you mean?" I countered, resuming my interrupted action, feigning nonchalance.

"I happened to overhear your conversation with her at the emergency room," he revealed. I carefully swallowed the food in my mouth before cleansing my palate with a sip of wine.

"She is my biological mother," I simply stated, noting the surprise that flickered across his face.

"You're not jesting, are you?" he queried, somewhat taken aback.

"Whether you believe it or not is entirely up to you," I replied, maintaining my composed demeanor.

"I sense a strained relationship between the two of you," he conjectured.

"An astute observation," I retorted.

"Allow me to guess, is Old Hex your father?" he continued his line of questioning.

"Stepfather," I clarified.

"Ah, that brings everything into focus. The perplexing glances from Director Mandryx were likely due to your connection as stepbrothers," he deduced.

"We are not stepbrothers. His father did not adopt me," I clarified.

"Oh," was his only response, prompting a chuckle from me, dissipating the tension.

Our conversation veered away from personal matters, delving into casual and nonsensical exchanges between two individuals who were no strangers to instability. As we lost ourselves in the atmosphere, drowning in the alcohol Kevin had ordered, we found ourselves in the public area of the station—a space where various types of alcoholic beverages and cigarettes were permitted. This facet surprised me, considering that all individuals within this facility were professionals. An interesting fact about this place was that there was no obnoxious blaring music; instead, a crowd of individuals swayed to a variety of tunes, accompanied by an assortment of dancing lights. Each of us wore headphones, allowing us to communicate with one another through the connected radios with a simple click.

Our revelry concluded, my surroundings began to spin uncontrollably. I lost track of Kevin amidst the crowd, prompting me to embark on the journey back to my room. Leaning against the walls of the corridors for support, I struggled to navigate through my blurred vision. Although my surroundings appeared distorted, I managed to find my way back, halting abruptly when I could no longer continue. Nevertheless, I forced myself to keep moving, eventually stopping in front of Frans' room. I knocked incessantly until the door swung open.

A figure stood before me, presumably Frans due to his height. While I couldn't discern his face clearly, his cologne permeated the air. He spoke, but his words eluded my comprehension. Instead, I brushed past him and headed straight for his bed, surrendering myself to sleep. As I settled into the bed, I closed my eyes, allowing myself to succumb to the embrace of unconsciousness. Yet, despite my conscious state, I felt the bed shifting beneath me. Frans must have decided to sleep beside me. It was of little consequence, given that it was his bed after all.

Minutes passed, and I felt hands tending to my body. A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as the person attending to me carried out their ministrations. It wasn't an act of debauchery; they were merely caring for me. It was a pleasant sensation—having someone look after you when you are unable to care for yourself, someone understanding your circumstances.

"You know, Frans, the last person who took care of me when I was drunk was Director Mandryx. Despite his neutral expression, he was quite clingy. That's one aspect I miss about him," I uttered, the words slipping out of my mind.

Matryx was the first person who provided me with solace, genuinely tending to my needs, and understanding every facet of my being. He brought tranquility into my life, a stark contrast to the turmoil inflicted upon me by my mother. Yet, despite my affection for him, I couldn't overlook the immense suffering he caused. Although we remain married, our paths have diverged irreparably. I cannot subject myself to further pain, for I possess only 0.30 of my tolerance in this tumultuous existence.