QUESTIONS (4)

Chapter 55

Questions (4)

"Have you ever questioned it?"

Raj blinked.

"…What?"

His voice was confused, caught off-guard, quiet—because there was something in IAM's voice that didn't match his usual tone. Something too quiet . Too eerie.

IAM didn't look at Raj. He was staring out the wide window, where the Hold's metal walls stood in the grey hue of the deadline. Watching the metal buildings that pierced the landscape like graves. He watched the soldiers pass by, the sand stretching beyond—endless and heavy—and above it all, the fog. The unchanging grey shroud that hung over everything in this cursed land.

There was no beauty here. No hope. No future. Just Survival. And Death...

And silence.

He finally answered, voice barely above a whisper.

"Everything."

One could hear the slight tremor. Just enough to feel. These were thoughts that had been gnawing at his soul for far, far too long.The word landed like a stone dropped in deep water. And in that ripple, Raj understood: this wasn't a sudden thought. This had been building. Layer upon layer. Quiet and festering. This was the scream you didn't hear until the person stopped speaking altogether.

Raj stood silent, the air between them stretching.

IAM took a breath. "I don't understand. What is it that we're supposed to understand?"

He blinked hard. His eyes stung. His voice lowered.

"In this world… all that has plagued me is questions. Questions upon questions. But it feels like they have no one to answer them. Or maybe… maybe there isn't an answer. Or maybe we don't deserve one. Or maybe—maybe the answer is something we're not ready to face."

He closed his eyes. Slowly. Painfully. And when he did, he felt like the whole world narrowed into a single point of pressure behind his ribs—where the grief lived. Where the guilt had nested.

Raj remained still. He didn't try to interrupt. Didn't try to comfort him. He just waited, standing in the heavy quiet like he somehow knew IAM wasn't done.

IAM's hands were still, resting on the thin sheets of the infirmary bed. Then, slowly, one rose to his chest. Fingers splayed, pressing down like he was feeling for his heartbeat. Like he wasn't sure it was still there.

"I have so many questions, Raj…"

The sound of his name was barely audible.

"Why does understanding give us power? Where does that even come from? Was it created by the Seven Heroes, or was it always there? And if it's always been here… then why? Why does it exist?Do you know the answer, Raj?"

A pause.

"I don't know," Raj replied, gently.

"Where do the Deadline creatures come from? Why does their mere presence rot the planet? Why are they so strange—so inhuman, so utterly alien in everything they do and are? Why do they get stronger over time? Why do they vanish into nothing the second they die, like they were never real to begin with?"

"Do you know why, Raj?"

"I do not," came the reply, quieter now.

"Why was there a Tragedy? What was it? Why is there a blackout in history? That hole in time that no one knows about? Where did the Seven Heroes go? What happened during that time? Why is there a silence around it that no one dares break?"

"…Do you know, Raj?"

"I don't know."

IAM's voice was becoming faster now. Not louder, just more urgent. More strained.

"Why are there massive walls around every country in the world—rising thousands of metres high and circling everything? Who built them? How? Was it to hide from something… or to trap something inside? What was so terrifying that the entire world are to live behind cages?"

"Do you know why, Raj?"

"I don't know."

His voice cracked.

"…Why did they die?"

A silence, far heavier than before, filled the room.

"Why was there a Devil? Why… why me? Why did I get to live? Why didn't it end with me too? Why did I survive, when Kon—when Jas—when Mia—when Leo—when Bryan—when they all didn't?"

His voice broke again.

"Do you know why, Raj?"

"…No. I do not."

"…Why…"

IAM's voice was suddenly softer than before. Much softer. It almost didn't sound like him at all.

"…why do I not feel as sad as I should be?"

That was the one. That was the wound no one could see, the one that festered beneath the rest.

There was silence.

"I feel horrible. I grieve them. I know I do. But I can feel it, Raj. The pain—it's already fading. The images are still there. The blood. The screams. The way Leo stood in front of Jas. The way Kon clutched his own heart. The way Mia…"

He shook his head slowly, like the memory burned too much to finish.

"But the ache. The sorrow. It's not as sharp anymore. And that… that feels worse than anything else. Am I even human, Raj? For feeling like this? For feeling nothing where grief should be?"

He swallowed.

"Do you know why I feel like that?"

"…That," Raj said softly, "is something only you can answer."

IAM finally turned. Slowly. His face still and unreadable. But his eyes—his eyes were dark, the deepest they had ever been.

"…Come to think of it," he whispered, "I don't really know you either."

Raj blinked again.

"How did you end up here, Raj? In this forsaken land, where all we do is fight, and bleed, and hurt? Do you know… why you're here?"

Raj looked down at his feet.

"…That is a story," he murmured, "for another day."

IAM stared at him a moment longer. Then slowly turned back to the window.

"…I'm sorry."

Raj said nothing.

The moment lingered.

IAM leaned forward just slightly, hands clenched in his lap. His voice, when it returned, was quieter than ever—but sharper. More focused.

"So, so many questions. About Althea. About Ryan. Kepa. Regina. About all of them. But there's one that burns deeper than the rest. One that cuts every time I try to ignore it."

He didn't look away from the glass. From the fog.

"Why was I brought into this world?"

Raj didn't speak. Couldn't. He couldn't even pretend to understand what IAM truly meant.

IAM's tone softened again—like a child reaching for something long out of reach.

"…I might never understand why I came to this world. But here I am . So I must live with it."

His voice trembled just slightly.

"Even if it hurts?"

Raj nodded. "Even if it hurts."

"…But I hate pain."

His voice cracked on that last word. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't theatrical. It was simple. Quiet. Real. Like the words of someone who had lived inside pain long enough to finally say it aloud.

"I—" Raj began, but IAM spoke over him.

"I want to know. I want to know the answers to these questions, and every new one that comes along. I have to know. Even if the truth is ugly. Even if the lies are sweet. I don't care. I need to know… because if I don't…"

He closed his eyes again.

"…this pain will never disappear."

Raj studied IAM for a long time. His expression unreadable. Then, finally, he nodded once—slow and firm.

"I hope you find the answers," he said.

"Even if you regret them."

"…Even if I regret them," IAM confirmed.

His voice was solid now. Steady.

His eyes were still covered by fog, but even so—he would walk this path.

Even if he couldn't see the road forward.