Chapter IX - The mirror I broke...
The ceiling light spread across the sterile white floor, casting a gentle beige hue on the walls. Ignacy felt the beams piercing his eyes, as if someone had brutally forced his face toward the sparkling lights. Slowly, he opened his eyelids, squinting with effort.
The image blurred, then began to clear: white ceiling, white walls, white bed. Everything around him seemed foreign, cold as ice, yet filled with an unsettling feeling, as if some catastrophic event was about to happen. He heard a faint hum of machines and distant, muffled voices. He sensed that something was wrong.
Suddenly, right above his ear, he heard his name, spoken in a soft, feminine voice.
- Sir, please wake up, - she said warmly, but Ignacy detected a note of urgency in her voice, one he couldn't ignore.
Summoning what little strength he had left, he turned his eyes toward the sound. A woman in a light nurse's uniform stood above him. Her face was blurry, obscured by the lamp's glare, but he could clearly see her eyes: large, nearly gray, almost white, fixed on him like moths drawn to light. Ignacy tried to focus on her face, though fear crept into his thoughts and uncertainty surrounded him like mist.
- How do you feel? - she asked, twisting her lips into a strange, inhuman smile. There was something unsettling in her tone, as though she wasn't sure of the answer herself.
Ignacy tried to gather his thoughts.
His tongue felt foreign, heavy, as though someone had closed his throat in helplessness. With great difficulty, he managed to croak out a question:
- Where... where am I?
His voice was weak, barely audible, and as he tried to lift himself, his body resisted with every fiber, as if protesting against his will.
He was sore, especially his left arm, completely wrapped in bandages, limp. The tingling in his shoulder and neck turned into a burning pain. He tried to lift his arm, but it didn't respond. Frustration grew within him with each passing moment, and a shadow of terror settled on his chest.
- Be careful, - the woman said, her voice sharp, yet still gentle. Ignacy noticed she had no hair. - You're in a hospital, - she replied, but her expression hid an unease that only heightened his fear.
He felt a wave of anxiety slowly filling his mind, but he tried to calm himself. Instead of panicking, he tried to understand what was happening. Something had to have happened, but what? He felt a strong need to understand the situation—not only for himself but for others. He had the sense that his condition could affect more people, and this only deepened his sense of responsibility. "I need to know more," he thought as fear gave way to logical thinking. He had to regain control, even if just for a moment.
Suddenly, memories from hours ago returned to him, painfully filling his mind.
- What happened to me?! - Ignacy shouted, pulling himself out of bed. He threw the white sheets off himself and slowly sat up, gasping for air, which suddenly felt too narrow, as if the space around him was shrinking in a dangerous squeeze.
- How long have I been lying here?! - he asked, as questions swirled in his head, so many that he didn't know where to begin. "What about Blue? And Emi? Are they alive?" he thought, struggling to catch his breath. Panic surrounded him; his heart pounded wildly, and sweat ran down his forehead. The last thing he remembered was fire engulfing him on all sides, as if time itself had caught fire in hell.
A monotonous sound from a machine somewhere behind him echoed in his ears, like the echo of his terror. A sudden, desperate urge to escape overwhelmed him. His heart raced, and pain shot through his body as he forcefully pushed himself up from the bed, ignoring all discomfort. Dazed, he began to look around the room, searching for any way out.
The nurse, still by the bed, called after him:
- Mr. Ignacy, - she cried, her voice filled with concern. - Mr. Ignacy Różański, - she repeated, as if her words could save him.
The boy completely ignored her, his gaze falling on the door. Tall, modern, made of dark wood. The silver handle gleamed in the light of the lamps, inviting him to flee. Without hesitation, he headed toward it, feeling the adrenaline surge through his veins, giving him strength in the face of chaos.
He was only a few meters from the door when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. He turned, but through the still slightly blurred image, he could only see a figure in a white coat, rapidly approaching him. Panic reached its peak. With his last strength, he lunged at the door, grabbed the silver handle. He pulled it with all his might, but the door wouldn't open. Desperate, he began to yank at the handle, trying to tear it from its hinges. At the same time, the figure in the white coat was already right behind him. He had one last chance; his body was so paralyzed that, at that moment, he stopped believing in the possibility of escape. In agony, he felt himself fainting, and dark spots appeared before his eyes. Between the flickering white light and the black, engulfing flames, a peaceful image of a sleeping figure appeared, its chest rising and falling with each breath, making a strange yet soothing sound. Ignacy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, trying to focus on this thought, like the last ray of light in dark waters. Once again, he yanked the wet handle.
With a forceful motion, he opened the door and ran straight into the white corridor, where the light seemed to pulse, and hope and fear blended into one, elusive feeling. Each step seemed to cry for help, and his heart beat in rhythm with the panic, ready for whatever was about to come.
The boy looked around, panting in place. He saw nothing but the long, stretching white corridor, where cold, white lights flickered, creating a terrifying atmosphere. Ignacy felt chills run down his spine. The floor was covered in the same white tiles as the room he had escaped from. The ceilings and walls were plastered in white, and the only decoration was dark brown, elegant, slim, and tall doors. Not knowing what to do, the boy thought grotesquely. The only thing that came to mind was escape. He didn't know where he was or where the presumed corridor led, so he ran straight ahead, ignoring the miles of bandages trailing behind him. Slowly, he began to run out of air, but he didn't care. He felt an immense joy from the lack of oxygen; the happiness was almost indescribable. The endorphins released during the run allowed him to forget the traumatic events. Enchanted, he smiled, almost crying. Sweat mixed with the salty tears flowing from his eyes, blurring his vision. Exhausted, he fell to his knees, leaning against one of the walls. His legs turned into soft jelly, and he, gasping, laughed loudly. He had acted like a madman released into freedom. He was done; he couldn't see himself or anyone else. Darkness began to envelop him like a cruel stepmother to a child. The pain was so great that the flickering lights of the white corridor began to sound like whistles; he sank into their glow.
Suddenly, a soft female voice broke through his ears:
- Ignacy? - she asked, and the tone of her voice pierced through the veil of darkness. - Ignacy! - she repeated, as if hope itself could lift him to the surface.
The redhead opened his eyes, lifting his eyelids slightly. The blurry female silhouette strikingly resembled his friend. Perhaps it was only because of the white dress she was wearing, or the soft, almost silky hair that fell onto the golden-haired face. He looked directly at her glowing face.
- Pen? - he asked, feeling hope in his heart collide with fear.
- Ignacy, - she replied, crouching beside him, her voice filled with worry. She brushed the hair from his forehead as if she wanted to remove the shadow from him. - What... what happened to you? - her voice cracked, and tears slowly filled her eyes, running down the trembling body of the redhead. She looked at her semi-conscious friend, then struck his healthy right arm with force. - IDIOT! - she yelled, her anger filling the space between them like living fire.
- Pen... - Ignacy began hoarsely, his voice sounding like an echo in the void. He wanted to ask so many things, but suddenly closed his eyes again, feeling the world around him turn into a blurry reality.
- Ignacy! Ignacy! - Penelopa nudged him, her voice trembling with anxiety, as if she feared he would disappear into the darkness.
At that moment, he heard a low male voice:
- What's going on here?
The redhead opened his eyes and saw a dark blue, blurry suit in front of him. All the images began to fade, merging into one cluster.
- Help me, please. - said the brunette, pulling the redhead up, her eyes shimmering with tears, begging for help. - Please, sir...
- Alright, alright. - the stranger nodded after a moment, stepping closer to her to take the weight of Ignacy's body off her shoulders.
As the redhead stood up straight, his vision began to return, but his heart still beat like crazy.
- Pen? - he replied, his voice a little more certain, though still trembling.
- IDIOT! - she started hitting him with her fists, and the elegant man barely held him up. Ignacy felt the warmth of her anger mix with relief that she was by his side.
- Let's take him to the room. - suggested the stranger, pulling him away from Penelopa, who stepped back a step.
- Does it hurt? - she asked, and there was a tone of concern in her voice, cutting through the tears. Ignacy felt his heart melt under the weight of her gaze.
At the sound of her words, he came to his senses, shook his head, and lifted it up.
- Is this your boss?! - surprised, he jumped back when Pen nodded.
- I'm sorry. - replied the elegant man, turning to the wall as if he couldn't bear the pain surrounding them. His posture was calm, but Ignacy saw indifference and emptiness in his eyes, as if he were pretending.
- Why? - he asked, looking around in confusion, not understanding why Penelopa was so shaken, and her boss was saying he was sorry. He felt like he didn't know the most important thing. - Did something happen?
- There was a fire, - she started, her voice trembling, and tears slowly filled her eyes. - Some part of the...
- A part of the collapsing building must have fallen on your shoulder, - her boss corrected her, his eyes moving to the redhead's bandaged arm.
- Well, actually, - he began, wanting to comfort his friend, but suddenly fell silent. What exactly did he want to say? Should he admit it? - It doesn't hurt that much, - he said, trying to lift his arm. When he couldn't do it, he lowered his head. It was only then that he saw the extent of the damage.
Looking at his burned arm, he saw circles from which parts branched out, wrapping his sleeve, creating blue-turquoise waves of uneven thickness and length. Some of them almost pierced the skin. The scars stretched from the tips of his fingers and neatly ran across his entire arm, wrapping his wrist. That's where most of the spilled blue-turquoise marks were.
- It's just the sleeve, - he replied, trying to console himself, though he didn't believe it. His thoughts circled around the damage he had suffered. But he didn't want to scream or argue; he lacked the strength. Instead, he wondered what else the horrible fire had destroyed for him, and he thought about the strangers whom the fire had consumed before the golden-haired one had even managed to look at them.
- Let's go to the room, - suggested the older man, supporting him, interrupting Ignacy's thoughts.
- No, - the redhead protested, his voice firm but full of inner unease.
- Ignacy? - Penelopa looked at him questioningly, her eyes full of concern.
- I want to go to the mirror first, - he replied confidently, although a dose of uncertainty was growing in his heart.
He wanted to see his reflection but feared what he would see in it.
- Later, - Penelopa said firmly, her tone expressing determination but also gentleness. - You should rest now, - she added, looking him straight in the eyes. Her makeup had completely washed away, and on her red face, there was an expression full of sympathy that the boy couldn't quite understand.
- Are you feeling okay? - Ignacy asked, seeing that her tears were still flowing.
The girl wiped them with the white sleeve of her suit, leaving traces of foundation that only intensified his concern.
- How do I look? - she threw the question his way, running her right hand through her hair, but there was something in her voice that revealed she wasn't expecting a genuine answer.
- Well, I don't know. - Ignacy said, somewhat awkwardly, and the girl smiled, but her smile was only a shadow of the joy it once held.
- Alright. - a slender man interrupted them, his words sounding like he was trying to bring some light into the darkness. - You look good, - he concluded, which made the brunette's eyes widen in disbelief, while Ignacy slowly swallowed, feeling uncomfortable.
For a moment, silence fell between the three of them, and tension hung in the air.
- Shall we go? - Ignacy asked, breaking the awkward atmosphere. - My arm really hurts, - he added, pulling the man's hand away from his healthy arm. He turned away from the pair, trying to walk on his own, but his left leg clearly wasn't cooperating.
Penelopa shook her head, and there was fear in her eyes. She rushed to the redhead as he leaned against the wall after just two steps.
- Can you walk? - she asked, leaning slightly over him, as if afraid he would fall again.
- Yes. - he replied, trying to twist his lips into a smile, but he felt a lack of courage. - My legs just haven't adjusted yet. - His voice sounded normal, but in reality, the redhead was biting his lips from the inside, and the fear of what awaited him added to the pain he was feeling.
- Are you sure? - asked the man behind them, his tone nonchalant, which only intensified Ignacy's frustration. The blonde shut his eyes at the sound of his voice.
- For sure. - he replied, lifting his eyelids. That's when he remembered how much he disliked the guy and felt his frustration turning into anger. - Pen. - he started, his voice trembling. - Are you okay?! - he asked, rising and grabbing the girl by her left shoulder.
- Calm down. - she replied, pulling his hand off her, and her touch was like a breath of relief, but Ignacy couldn't calm down. He looked at her in silence, feeling his anxiety grow in his heart.
- You were in the building. - Ignacy interrupted, his voice trembling, and uncertainty echoed in his words. - You were in the building when it happened, - he finished, and his mind was flooded with images he wished he could erase.
- No. - she replied after a moment, and her voice held determination. - I wasn't there, we were... - She glanced at the elegant man standing behind her, and a spark of hope appeared in her eyes. - We had a mission outside. - she finished, and Ignacy felt like he was gaining wings.
He exhaled in relief; setting fire to the building, he had completely forgotten about the people who might have been there, about his best friend, who used to be like a sister to him.
- What were you doing there? - the older man interjected suspiciously, and Ignacy felt his heart start to race as blood vessels in his body reddened intensely.
He turned away from Penelopa, trying to straighten up, but his right arm, pulling him down, felt like a weight he couldn't bear.
- Oh, right. - Ignacy replied, wanting to change the topic, as if that could smother the growing fear. - Aren't we going to that room? - he asked, his voice carrying an urgent need to get out of this awkward situation. - You, Pen, the doctor should examine you too. - he said confidently, and his heart carried a desire to protect his friend.
- I'm telling you again. - Penelopa replied with frustration, but Ignacy noticed something more than just irritation in her eyes. - I wasn't there.
- Actually. - he said, interrupting her, and his voice carried a confidence that was new to him. - I don't feel bad, quite the opposite. - he added, saying it with such conviction that he clenched his teeth, biting his lips so hard that he tasted blood.
- Well. - the handsome man in a suit spoke, and there was a hint of irony in his voice. - In this version, you look even more masculine.
- More masculine? - Ignacy repeated, and in the empty corridor, a deathly silence descended, as if the man's words had shaken the whole situation.
- Alright, then let's go sit somewhere. - Penelopa replied after a minute, her voice full of care, and she seemed ready to take care of Ignacy. - Let's sit in some room, so they can examine you. - she continued, as the blonde turned towards her, looking at her distantly, as if unsure whether he could trust her.
- No. - Ignacy protested, and there was determination in his tone, but he pulled away from the brunette, feeling resistance rising in his chest.
- Leave him. - the elegant man behind them threw, and Ignacy and Penelopa immediately focused on him, their concern clearly etched in their gazes.
- Idiot. - thought the redhead, turning away from the man. - Pen... I don't want to. - he said, looking directly at the girl, feeling that her presence gave him strength, but also sparked fear. He saw the reflection of the woman's boss in her clear olive eyes, and it only fueled his frustration.
- Sir. - Penelopa said haughtily, and there was a determination in her voice that Ignacy recognized from the old days. - I think I can go on by myself. - she added, turning away from the man.
She grabbed her friend's healthy arm, and their hands met, which brought relief to Ignacy.
- Please, let's go normally. - she whispered, leading Ignacy with a determination that told him they both had to face what awaited them.
- Don't pull me. - he muttered sullenly, feeling how exhaustion and anxiety slowed his thoughts. - Where are we going? - he asked, just as quietly.
- Anywhere. - she replied silently, leaving the boss far behind. I need to call Nulla, she added, and at that moment, Ignacy broke free from her grip as if he had shaken off a stupor.
- To Nulli?! - he raised his voice in surprise, unable to believe what he had just heard.
- Calm down. - Pen quickly stabilized him, pulling him closer, feeling her own panic starting to catch up with him. - He's still behind us. - she added, slightly turning around to make sure their pursuer wasn't too close. Ignacy cautiously moved closer to his friend, drawing comfort from her presence.
- Why do you want to call her? - he asked, as the brunette tugged on his uninjured arm, and concern flickered in her eyes.
- Someone needs to take care of you. - she said plainly, and Ignacy noticed that her tone left no room for argument. - Besides, I've already called her once. - she added quietly under her breath, as if that confession was meant to reassure him.
Penelopa wanted to talk to her friend, and her concern was evident in her eyes. She often opened and closed her mouth, not speaking a word, as if she couldn't find the right thoughts.
- Listen. - she began after a deep sigh, finally breaking the silence. - We need... we need to find a quiet place. - she replied, looking around the corridor that seemed endless.
- As if you hadn't noticed, this whole corridor is strangely quiet. - he said a bit sarcastically, trying to ease the tension.
He saw the odd look from the brunette focusing on his face, then quickly shifting away; it kept repeating, as if she couldn't tear her gaze from him.
- You keep staring at me. - he responded, stopping.
- What's going on?! - the girl abruptly stopped right before the stairs, and Ignacy had to strain not to crash into her. - Why aren't you going? - she asked, turning back to him, and there was frustration in her voice, but also helplessness.
- Is something wrong with me? - he asked, standing two steps behind her, feeling like his presence was becoming a burden he couldn't bear.
- What are you talking about? - she looked at him questioningly, then took a step back to the redhead. - Come on! - The woman tugged him by his uninjured hand, and Ignacy let himself be guided, even though he wasn't sure where they were headed.
They stopped before a set of white stairs, and Penelopa gently pulled him to step down one level. The stairs they were descending weren't just a functional part of the architecture; they were an integral part of this sterile, white world. Made of transparent material, they resembled glass but were far more durable. Their construction was minimalist, devoid of unnecessary decorations, and each step seemed perfectly aligned with the next, creating a smooth transition between levels. What caught the most attention, however, was the digital, white wall surrounding the stairs. It looked like a giant screen, displaying a high-resolution image. On this wall, there was a view extending to another part of the city – also white, sterile, and devoid of life. Buildings, streets, people – everything was in the same monochromatic color scheme.
- Is it about my shoulder? - Ignacy suddenly said, breaking free from her grasp.
He felt that the situation was too overwhelming for him, and the memory of the pain was becoming too much to bear.
- Ignacy... - the brunette groaned when he stayed silent, feeling the growing tension. - Say something. - she added after a moment, as if she needed his voice to calm her own thoughts. When Ignacy remained silent, refusing to break, a faint spark appeared in the girl's eyes. - I've always wondered about this wall, why? - she started, then looked in disbelief at the digital screen, which seemed almost alive.
- First of all, it serves as a window to the world outside the hospital, giving the illusion of connection with reality. - he said, a bit excited, his eyes shining in the artificial light's reflection. - Secondly, it might be used to provide patients with information, like about their health or progress in treatment. - he added, feeling himself become more enthusiastic.
The brunette watched him with mild fatigue but still gave him attention, which gave him the courage to continue.
- Thirdly, it can also be used to manipulate perception, creating an illusion of another world, more friendly and full of hope... - he said proudly, fascinated by the digital structure.
- I see. - she nodded, but a shadow of doubt appeared in her eyes. - This is meant to help... - she thought for a moment. - Sick or dying patients... - she scratched her head, trying to organize her thoughts, and Ignacy sighed, sensing the topic was veering into difficult territory too easily.
- No! - the redhead shouted loudly, drawing the attention of a bald nurse in a white coat walking by them.
The woman stopped a few steps below them, and her cold gaze analyzed Ignacy from head to toe, including the strands of his copper-brown hair.
- Is everything alright with you? - the nurse asked, her voice cold, devoid of any empathy or emotion, much like the gray hues of her eyes.
- Yes. - he answered firmly, feeling the brunette step between him and the bald woman, ready to defend him.
- My friend just came back from a test. - she clarified, then extended her left hand behind her, signaling with her fingers for the confused Ignacy to take it.
- I understand. - the nurse replied, though there was no enthusiasm in her voice. - If there's a problem, please call me. - she added, climbing the next steps.
The pair watched as she slowly disappeared behind the white stairs.
They both fell silent; Ignacy waited for Penelopa to speak first, and she waited for the redhead to do so. In the uninterrupted silence, Ignacy fixated on the fifth step of the stairs, preoccupied by the thought of their grayness.
- I'll take you to the reception. - Pen said, breaking the silence, her voice determined, though a sense of unease lingered in her heart.
- Why there? - he asked, pulling his right hand away from hers, feeling the coldness of that gesture passing between them.
- Nulla will be there. - she emphasized, her voice sounding like a strong assurance. - She'll find you faster. - she finished, passing the boy with conviction.
- Don't call her. - he said, running up to Penelopa, his voice filled with concern.
- Don't run on the stairs! - she cried, turning to him, and grabbing her head as if trying to stop the chaos in her mind. - I need to call someone. - she replied, straightening with determination.
- I'll manage. - the redhead replied confidently, standing a few steps below her. His tone was firm, but a sense of unease echoed in his heart. - Besides, you keep distracting me. - he added, muttering under his breath, trying to hide the growing tension.
- Maybe you really are more manly. - the woman remarked, shaking her head once to the left, once to the right, as if analyzing him in a new light. - Though no. - she concluded after a moment, and there was a slight teasing tone in her voice.
- Are you saying that to me, or just thinking aloud? - Ignacy asked, a bit frustrated, and his question sounded like a call for attention.
Penelopa was silent for a moment, then gracefully descended the stairs, leaving the boy behind. From this perspective, she seemed more feminine to the redhead, her confidence radiating like a glow. He stood in astonishment, watching her, his heart filled with conflicting emotions.
- No, that's not it. - he thought, then started following her, feeling the sound of their footsteps echoing off the white walls.
As Ignacy descended the stairs, with each step, he had the feeling he was moving through some kind of time tunnel, where the past, present, and future merged into one. The digital wall was like a TV screen, displaying different versions of reality that blended into a kaleidoscope of memories and dreams. Images of their shared moments swirled in his mind, laughter in school hallways, times when Penelopa infected him with her optimism, even in the hardest moments. Now, in this sterile place, he felt lost.
- Ignacy! - Penelopa called him from his reverie, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. - Where are you? - her voice was full of concern, and that feeling made the redhead feel present again.
- I'm coming. - he replied, quickening his pace to catch up to her.
When he finally reached her, their gazes met, and he felt the invisible thread connecting them, stronger than ever before.
- I'm sorry for acting like this. - he added, feeling the need to explain what separated them. - It's just... I don't want you to worry.
- Worrying is my specialty, Ignacy. - she replied, smiling faintly, but there was uncertainty in her eyes. - I want you to be safe.
And so, in silence, they headed toward the reception, and Ignacy tried to focus on her, on their relationship, which, in the face of crisis, was gaining new meaning.
***
White emptiness. That was the first thing that struck the young man as he stepped into the reception area, standing between the stairs and the empty space, all enveloped in white. The vast, colorless hall stretched out before him, resembling a hospital chapel. The usual reception elements—a few benches, a low counter—seemed to drown in the sterile white space, like relics of a bygone world. Ignacy's attention was drawn to the wall behind the counter. What had seemed like random cracks earlier turned out to be a carefully designed system. The wall was filled with thousands of square holes, all of the same size and depth. Each one was perfectly aligned, forming a regular grid. To the man, it resembled a giant safe wall, holding the world's most precious treasures. Through the glass doors leading further inside, he noticed some movement. People, already examined and registered, were entering. The waiting room was chaotic. Doctors in white coats were running back and forth, issuing orders. Behind them, like well-trained robots, the nurses moved. They were bald, completely hairless, dressed in identical white uniforms. Their faces were pale, and their eyes—gray-white—lacked any expression. Their movements were fluid, precise, almost mechanical. Ignacy peeked from behind the stairs; ordinary people, also dressed in white, sat on benches lined up against the walls. They were young, beautiful, flawless. There was not a wrinkle, not a single extra pound among them. They looked like models from magazine covers. Everyone was the same, perfectly beautiful. The ceiling, walls, floor—all were white. The only source of light came from built-in ceiling lamps, casting a cold, white glow. Despite the sterility, the air was heavy with a sense of unease. People sitting on the benches seemed worried, even devastated. And despite the tension, a strange silence reigned, broken only by the sound of footsteps and whispers. The redhead stood on the threshold of this white world, feeling like an intruder. This place was so foreign, so unnaturally organized, that it filled him with fear. Everyone turned to look at him. Ignacy felt his heart race. He was like a savior who had come to free them, but he knew it was just an illusion. In this sterile, lifeless world, everyone was just another number, another medical case. The thousands of square holes in the wall reminded him of this. Here, every person was just part of a bigger system, reduced to data and statistics. The more Ignacy thought about it, the more he felt the eyes of those around him. As a result, a small black child sitting next to its mother on a bench pointed at him with a finger.
In that same moment, a brunette rushed up to him, grabbing his right arm. She did it so forcefully that she almost spun the redhead around.
- What are you doing?! – Ignacy exclaimed, his voice sounding like waking from a deep sleep, where he floated in a sea of white light.
The brunette stood in front of him, eyeing him suspiciously from head to toe.
- What are you thinking about? – Penelopa asked, concern in her voice.
- Nothing in particular, – he replied, pushing her away. His gaze swept across the surroundings. – Why is everyone staring at me? – he added, looking around. People kept glancing at him furtively, and whenever he made eye contact, they immediately turned away, pretending to be busy or uninterested. The medical staff responded the same way.
- I don't know, – she replied simply, shrugging.
- Is it about my shoulder? – he asked, sensing irritation in his voice.
- If you know, why are you asking? – Penelopa glanced at two empty seats placed against the wall, her thoughts briefly circling around the awkwardness of the situation. – Sit here, – she said, pointing to the chairs.
- And you? – he asked, still standing beside her.
- Just sit down, – she said, gently pushing him. Ignacy, feeling there was no point in resisting, gave in.
- Fine, fine, – he agreed, sitting down with a sigh of relief.
- I'll go call Nulla, – she said, flashing him a wide smile, and her radiant smile briefly lit up the white emptiness around them.
Penelopa turned and walked straight ahead.
- Pen! – he called after her as she disappeared into the crowd of strangers. – Pen...
Knowing it was futile, he lowered his head, trying to avoid the unwanted gazes that he felt on him.
- I'm sorry, – a strangely pleasant voice snapped him out of his trance.
Ignacy looked up and saw an elderly woman standing before him. She didn't look like the typical resident of the White City; besides wrinkles, she was somewhat overweight, an unusual sight in this sterile environment. The redhead focused on her colorful clothes and short, peach-pink hair. He opened his mouth in disbelief. The elderly woman gazed at him kindly. She wore bright green knee-high rubber boots, paired with a multicolored floral dress.
- May I sit down? – she asked politely, her voice warm, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings.
Ignacy didn't know who was drawing more attention—him or this stranger. He nodded slowly in agreement.
- Please, – he answered, surprised, moving aside to make space for her.
- Thank you, – she replied, sitting down. As she did, Ignacy noticed her red tights peeking out from her shoes. The stranger smiled gently at him, and her warm, cinnamon-brown eyes gleamed as if catching rays of sunlight. – Interesting, – she added, breaking the silence, and pointed at him with her finger.
- Oh, yeah... – he replied, embarrassed, scratching his head. – It's nothing, really, – he added, focusing his gaze on his right, turquoise hand. Only now did he realize he had completely forgotten about it; the pain seemed unimportant. Watching the pulsing veins, he curled his fingers, trying to see if he could move them. The elderly woman watched his gestures with curiosity.
- It matches your eyes, – she said with a smile.
- To the eyes? - he repeated questioningly, slightly surprised.
- Is it some kind of abstraction? - she asked, her eyes studying his reaction with interest. - Are they doing these things on the face now?
- Excuse me? - Ignacy couldn't believe it, he grabbed his face with his right hand, but felt nothing, only smooth skin.
- It looks interesting. - she said, turning away from him. - Do you want a mirror? - she asked, rummaging through her powder-pink, fuzzy bag. Without waiting for his answer, she started searching inside.
- Yes. - he nodded. - Please. - he added, lowering his gaze, feeling his uncertainty grow.
He saw her pull out countless little things and strange items, cluttering things he neither understood nor desired. He scratched his head thoughtfully.
- Excuse me... - he started, when the elderly woman suddenly threw a red lipstick at him.
- Darling. - her voice cracked slightly. - I'm sorry, but I don't have a mirror with me today. - she added with a strained expression.
- It's fine. - he replied, waving his hands, trying to ease the tension.
For the next ten minutes, the elderly woman apologized almost grotesquely, and Ignacy had to keep calming her down, nodding to show he understood.
- I really apologize. - she repeated, and there was sincerity in her voice. - I thought I had brought it with me. - she added, becoming increasingly frustrated.
- It's... fine. - he tried to reassure her as she continued searching through her bag. - Don't you have any family? - he asked, trying to distract himself from the stares awaiting him.
- You know... - the elderly woman began, still rummaging. - Today I had a very strange situation. Two young guys fell from the sky right onto my balcony. - she added with a slight smile.
- Excuse me... - Ignacy interrupted her, when the woman sighed loudly.
- What's the matter? - she asked, turning to him. - Should I look? - she insisted. It seemed like she lacked company, and Ignacy lowered his head again, fed up with the intrusive conversation. He scratched his neck and then yawned loudly in exhaustion.
- Ignacy Różański. - a familiar voice with a slightly nonchalant tone spoke.
The redhead looked up and saw a terrifying brunette in a navy suit, standing before him, surrounded by a group of nurses and one hunched-over doctor, resembling a blonde mouse post-botox. The scene caught not only Ignacy's attention but also that of other patients and hospital visitors.
- Pen... - he stopped when he noticed the cheerful elderly woman putting her bag down. - Is something wrong? Something with Pen? - he asked, but the face of Penelopa's boss remained stone-like, unchanged from their last meeting.
- Probably with you. - he replied, boasting in front of Ignacy like a proud peacock.
- Where is Pen? - he asked again, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
- Miss Penelopa... - the man began but stopped, turning to the doctor. - I haven't seen her. - he added, looking back at Ignacy.
- If you're looking for her, she's not here. - Ignacy shot back, unable to suppress his anger.
- As you said. - the man replied, irritated but still calm. - I'm looking for you.
- Me? - Ignacy widened his eyes, pointing at himself, as if he couldn't believe it.
- YES. - The man emphasized the word, his tone becoming more threatening. - Yes, you. - he added.
- Are they your friends? - the elderly woman asked, looking at them with curiosity.
Ignacy shifted his gaze to the well-dressed man, and his defense instincts kicked in. He moved even further back into the seat, wanting to create distance.
- No. - he replied uncertainly, his voice tinged with shyness.
- Please. - the elderly woman replied, addressing the redhead, ignoring the crowd around them. - I found it. - she added, handing Ignacy a small silver mirror.
- Thank you. - he stammered, his thoughts racing toward escape.
- You can get up. - the doctor interrupted, leaning toward Ignacy.
- Well, I don't know... - Ignacy turned to the elderly woman. - Depends on why... - he added, feeling growing unease.
- Exams. - Penelopa's boss replied curtly. - We need to examine you. - he added.
- Me? - Ignacy asked with irony, but his heart started beating faster. - You want to examine me? There's no need for that. - he continued, extending his left arm and then bending it.
- I insist. - the doctor spoke, and Ignacy could feel something in the man stirring his instinct to flee. - Just because you feel fine doesn't mean you're healthy. We need to find the cause. - he looked at Ignacy's pulsing, turquoise-blue veins.
Ignacy nodded, but his mind was racing. He had enough. He stood up, and all eyes were on him. The man in the navy suit furrowed his brow, his gaze shifting to the nurses, as if giving them a silent command.
- First, I'd look for Penelopa. - he added, stepping away from the group.
- IGNACY! - the man in the suit raised his voice, and Ignacy felt his adrenaline start to surge.
- I'll definitely pass on your orders to PEN. - he emphasized, gaining confidence. - I'll report back when I find her.
- Ignacy Różański. - the man responded, grabbing his right wrist. - I want to examine you. - he said, trying to calm him, but Ignacy had no intention of waiting.
- As I said... - the redhead shrugged off his left hand, his confidence filling his entire body. - I'll return with Pen! - he retorted, pushing through the nurses.
And then it began. Before they could react, Ignacy moved. He easily dodged them as if they were mere obstacles in his path. Their faces remained unmoved, but for a moment, surprise appeared in their eyes. The people in the waiting room froze as well. Some widened their eyes, others whispered among themselves. A few tried to stand up, but quickly calmed down upon seeing the nurses standing still, waiting for further instructions. The man in the suit widened his eyes. His lips were pressed together in a grimace, as if he tried to say something, but no words escaped his mouth. Ignacy weaved through the crowd, feeling someone grab his arm, but he shrugged it off and ran on. His heart pounded in his chest like crazy, and his legs seemed to lift him off the ground. He was terrified, though he pretended to be tough. He turned around, wanting to spot the dignified brunet, but he had vanished among the crowd.
- What if they know? Maybe they found some traces? - Thousands of similar thoughts raced through his mind.
Realizing he only had a moment before someone actually started chasing him, the blonde man quickened his pace. He squeezed between people, who parted to make way for him, creating a corridor. He reached the exit doors and ran outside, leaving behind the noise and confusion.
***
Ignacy stood in front of the hospital, the very place where he had just moments ago been trapped. He measured it from top to bottom, studying even the smallest details of the structure. The building was not an ordinary medical institution. It was a futuristic cathedral of health, rising from the urban jungle of the White City. Its facade shimmered like a massive jewel, constantly in motion. The walls, made of smart glass, smoothly transformed, parting to reveal holographic passages. These virtual doors, shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow, led inside, where hope and advanced medicine awaited the patients. The neon blue light spilling through the institution gave it an almost mystical character. The bright, cold light contrasted with the warm, organic interior. Digital branches, growing from the architectural structures, resembled living roots, connecting the various parts of the building into one cohesive whole. The windows, without frames, were like giant transparent eyes through which the hospital watched the city. From the outside, nothing could be seen of what was happening inside. The building was mysterious, yet inviting. At the hospital's entrance stood bald cyborgs, dressed in identical white suits. Their faces were expressionless, and their eyes shone with a cold blue glow. With moving fingers, they scanned the patients, checking their health status.
Every new case was another challenge for them.
- A mirror. - he said, spreading his right fist, trying to joke to hide his nerves.
- Ignacy? - a woman's voice called from behind him.
The redhead nearly jumped, a cold shiver running down his spine. He turned his head slowly.
- Nulla? - he asked, swallowing, a look of relief spreading across his face.
- Ignacy. - the young girl replied, and standing beside her was Teodor, both staring at Ignacy in clear surprise.
- Teo? - the redhead said questioningly, unable to believe his friends were with him.
- Ignacy... you? - Nulla asked, studying him with concern.
- I'm running away. - he replied, a hint of madness in his voice. - I need to get out of here before they find me!
- I... I... - the blonde stammered, his full, pink lips trembling, as if trying to say something, but no words came out.
- What... - Jaśmin interjected, stepping out from behind the siblings. The short brunet squeezed between them, standing face to face with Ignacy. He wanted to reach out towards his injured face, but every time he tried, his left hand seemed paralyzed.
- Jaśmin. - Ignacy said, smiling brightly for a moment, trying to hide the pain. - It's nothing. - Your hand... - he carefully pointed to Ignacy's left sleeve, examining it with his eyes. His lips were pressed into a straight line.
- Not just that. - the blonde replied, stepping closer, his face showing concern.
- Did someone hurt you? - Nulla asked, shaking her head. She looked like she had just woken up from a daze.
- You know what... - Ignacy began, turning to the siblings. - We should leave. - he added, pushing them forward.
- What? - the albino girl stopped. - Pen... Pen told me to come here and...
- I've already seen her. - he interrupted, still pushing them forward.
- But... - Teodor tried to speak.
- You're hurt! - the blonde protested loudly, concern evident in her voice.
- Calm down, I'll manage. - he reassured them, trying to calm her down, though he could feel the pain increasing.
- What were you doing there? - Jaśmin asked, his voice full of worry.
Ignacy fell silent, not knowing where to start. He felt he should tell the siblings and Jaśmin everything, especially about Blue, whom he had met. After all, Blue was Jaśmin's brother, but the more he wanted to talk about it, the more his thoughts tangled his tongue.
- But would it be right to tell them about his likely death? - he wondered in his mind, feeling guilty.
- Ignacy? - Nulla asked, concerned by his silence.
- You know... - he began uncertainly. - That fire...
- Yes, the fire! - his sister interrupted him. - What were you doing there? - she asked, her heart filling with anger, mixed with irritation. She felt like hitting her brother, her fists clenched.
- I met Blue. - he said, and the words fell on the group like a heavy stone.
In an instant, calm Teodor turned to Ignacy and grabbed his shirt.
- You saw him? - he asked insistently, his tone revealing how much it mattered to him. - You saw Blue? - Teodor's hands tightened on the sweaty fabric; under his fingers, he could feel the disgusting, dried mix of dirt. A wave of jealousy mixed with fury flooded his mind. Why couldn't it have been him? He had waited so long! The blond man was in turmoil: It should have been me! I was supposed to meet him! He wanted to shout all this in his brother's face but couldn't find the courage; his face just turned beet red.
- Calm down, - Ignacy said, hiding his face in his large hands. There was a note of exhaustion in his voice.
- Let him go! - shouted the short blonde girl, jumping between them, her eyes shining with determination.
- You met my brother? - Jaśmin asked, and his words echoed in Ignacy's mind.
The man removed his brother's hands from his shirt, avoiding the siblings, and walked towards the standing monkey-like kid. His face slightly flushed as he stood over him, feeling like a large shadow over the small body. Ignacy bent down, wanting to explain the past events, but just as he was about to open his mouth, he stopped mid-sentence.
- Well... - he began, gathering his thoughts, and the image of the doctor and the bald nurses flashed before his eyes. - I think we should go, - he replied, trying to sound confident.
A fake smile returned to his face, but he felt the pain inside pierce him through. He turned to the siblings, raising his right hand, ready to wave at them. But then he looked at his clenched fist, feeling it grow heavy with unspoken words.
- Mirror, - he said silently, remembering the small, pocket-sized silver mirror he had on him. He smiled inwardly, mentally thanking the little thing, which was the only thing that seemed normal right now.
- What's going on? - Nulla asked, her voice filled with worry, as if she already sensed the situation slipping out of control.
- We need to leave before they catch up with me, - Ignacy repeated, his tone more determined. - We can't stay here.
Jaśmin looked at Ignacy, uncertainty dancing in his eyes.
- But what about Blue? We can't leave him!
- If we make a noise, we'll attract attention. We need to move carefully, - Ignacy replied, feeling his words fall on receptive hearts.
Teodor, still tense, finally exhaled, and his hands dropped to his sides.
- Fine, but what next? What's your plan?
- Plan? - Ignacy laughed, but there was no joy in his laugh. - Just don't let them catch us. We need to find a way out of the city. Blue can wait, but we don't have much time.