Raden lifted his head. He was breathing heavily, panting from exertion. He smiled enthusiastically when he saw Michael, fighting through the stinging pain in his leg.
"I was bored staying in the room. What's actually going on?"
Michael offered a faint, tired smile. Raden tried to limp toward him, but his step faltered, his leg buckling. Michael stepped in quickly, draping an arm around Raden to support his weight, guiding him forward.
He lowered Raden into a chair with care. Raden groaned, clutching his injured leg instinctively.
"You have some nerve coming out here with a leg in that condition," Michael scolded, removing his hand from Raden's shoulder. "Did Mora's rampage get loud enough to drag you out of bed?"
Raden shifted, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. His breathing slowly leveled out.
"Yeah, Mora's screaming woke me up. But that is not why I came. I called for Timmy to come to my room, but he never showed up... I couldn't turn on the TV, couldn't get anything. I forced myself to stand. My leg was shaking and stinging like crazy, but the pain faded a little bit after a while. And here I am."
Michael chuckled, shaking his head. He sighed and looked Raden in the eye.
"You are stubborn as a mule... but I dig the attitude. Just don't make a habit of it, or you will literally lose that foot."
Raden gulped at the warning. He stared into the blank, massive monitor in front of him. The dark screen reflected his face, slightly distorted and vignetted by the fish-eye curvature of the glass.
"If I didn't force myself, I would have just been rotting in that room for days, maybe weeks. Just waiting for an update from you. I was going crazy with curiosity. Besides, I am sure the leg isn't that fatal. You are just being theoretical, right? You'll just tell me it will heal in a few days. My legs just couldn't handle sitting still anymore," Raden said, squinting at his own reflection in the monitor.
Michael laughed, slapping his own forehead.
"You really are hard-headed... You aren't wrong when you say I work with theories and estimates. But a leg that was nearly severed is not something to play with. I stitched that up with precision and care. Do not be reckless with your health."
Raden fell silent, the gravity of Michael's words sinking in. The atmosphere in Mora's workspace turned heavy.
Michael looked down at his hands. A smear of dried blood still clung to his index finger. He walked over to a tissue box on the desk, pulled out a thin sheet, and began scrubbing the spot. His eyes looked weary as he stared at his finger.
Raden watched him.
"You look like a man on edge. Trouble?"
Michael lifted his head slowly, his hand freezing mid-wipe.
"You could say that..." he replied, his voice barely a whisper.
Raden frowned. "Does this have to do with Mora?"
Michael swallowed hard.
"...Yeah. It has everything to do with her."
"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is it?"
Michael let out a heavy sigh.
"It is about a girl. From my past. She used to be Mora's best friend, and she had a thing for me back then. But now... she has changed completely. You know that gang of masked women that beat you to a pulp?"
Raden nodded. "Yeah, I know them. What is the connection?"
Michael pursed his lips.
"That girl from my past is the puppet master behind all of it."
Raden's eyes went wide.
---
Mora stepped out of the elevator, her pace frantic. When she reached her door, the scanner glitched, flashing an error. With a growl of frustration, she slammed her fist against the panel until it beeped its compliance.
The door slid open. Mora stormed in, hurling her jacket and watch against the wall with a hollow thud.
She kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the mattress, burying her face deep into the sheets. After a moment, she lifted her head, reaching for a framed photo on the small nightstand.
She stared into the image. Her fingers traced the glass surface. Her eyes welled up, and her jaw trembled.
"You... why did you have to turn out like this?"
The photo captured a different time: Michael, Mora, April, and Mora's father sitting in a wheelchair. They were all beaming, smiling wide under the bright, forgiving sun of a long-ago summer.
Mora closed her eyes, remembering the day the photo was taken. The wind had been strong, whipping her hair to the left over and over again.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She pulled the photo frame against her chest, hugging it tight.
Her mind drifted backward.
---
It was spring. Flowers were blooming in riots of color across a city that was usually gray with smog and industrial exhaust. The factories were all shut down for major maintenance, silencing the machines.
Academic classes were on hold. Students were just given journals and notes on microchip development to study on their own. Lectures lasted an hour, tops.
The air tasted sweet to Mora, fresher than she had ever known. Birds sang with more melody than usual. The sun was hot, but Mora didn't mind, she soaked it in.
Cheeks flushed, smiling ear to ear, eyes sparkling, Mora pushed April's wheelchair down the path
April was humming a tune, her voice precise and smooth, transitioning between notes like a perfectly played guitar.
Mora steered her toward a flower shop bursting with blooms. April's face lit up. She pointed excitedly at a specific flower, a purple one that stood out in stark contrast to the rows of potted plants. Seeing April's excitement, Mora wheeled her closer and picked one out for her.
April inhaled the scent deeply.
"The smell is weird, but I like it way better than roses!" she said, holding the flower up to the sky.
Mora smiled. "Hehe, that is lavender. It is definitely unique. How does it make you feel?"
April tilted her head. She smiled. "I feel like I am sleeping on clouds. And it is pretty... just like me, right?"
Mora nodded enthusiastically.
---
Mora's mind snapped back to the present. She lay on her side, clutching the memory in the frame. Her sobbing had slowed to a quiet rhythm. Sniffling, she wiped the remaining tears from her face and gently placed the photo back on the nightstand.
She rolled over, staring up at the ceiling, her right hand tracing aimless patterns in the air.
"Why... why did my life have to change so drastically?"
Suddenly, her earpiece buzzed. Mora tapped the device in her right ear.
"Mora? How are you and Michael? Your father and I haven't heard from you two in almost a month," her mother's voice crackled through the line.
Mora sat up instantly.
"Oh, Mom? Yeah... Michael and I are doing great here. We are eating well, sleeping enough. The people here are so friendly!" Mora forced a wide, cheerful smile, even though no one could see it.
"Is that so? Thank goodness... I am so glad to hear that. It has been years since you went there. Are you still not able to come home?"
Mora's smile faded.
"Yeah, Mom. I can't come home this year. Probably not next year either. You know how it is? Tons of work. They really like my work here, so they need me every day."
"Your father and I are doing well. He had his surgery a few years back. Slowly but surely, he is starting to walk without the wheelchair."
Mora's eyes widened.
"Really? Wow, that makes me so happy! I can't wait to see him walk again."
Her mother chuckled. "I will welcome you home properly when you are done with your work there. You are a strong, smart, beautiful woman. Just like I was when all the boys were chasing me in school."
Mora laughed. "Thanks, Mom. You are beautiful, too."
The line went quiet for a moment.
"Mora, can I ask you for a favor?" Her mother's tone turned soft, hesitant.
"Sure, Mom. What is it?"
"I haven't paid the administration fees for your father's hospital bill today. I don't know where else to turn..." Her mother's voice caught. "Could you transfer some money to me now?"
Mora swallowed hard. Her teeth chattered slightly.
"Um... I actually haven't been paid yet, Mom. But as soon as I finish this job, I will transfer it straight to you. Okay?"
"Oh. That's fine. I will wait. Sorry to bother you."
Mora smiled weakly. "No, Mom. It's no bother. To the usual account, right?"
"Yes, the usual one."
"Okay, I will let you know when I send it!"
"You really are a good, obedient child. Alright, I won't keep you from your busy schedule. Bye, Mora. Mom loves you."
"Bye! Love you too, Mom."
The call ended. Mora pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them.
"How many sins have I collected by now?" she muttered.
---
Back in the workspace, Raden shook his head in disbelief.
"Wait, so that is your old friend's doing?"
Michael sighed. "Yeah. It is definitely her. I remember her face clearly."
Michael turned his gaze toward the massive computer monitor. He didn't blink. He squinted, focusing hard until a small detail became sharp.
Raden looked at him, confused. "What are you staring at so intensely?"
Michael didn't look away. The more he focused, the clearer it became.
"Wait... I see something on the monitor. It's small, and the color is changing." Michael's eyes widened. "It looks like... a countdown timer."