Aurex couldn't wait any longer.
He couldn't trust Torren. He couldn't trust Kaien. And he especially couldn't trust his family. His gut told him there was something important in that handbag, something he needed to see. And this time, he wasn't going to ignore the feeling.
At school, the day passed like every other. He kept quiet. Distant. No conversations, no eye contact. All his focus was on the moment he'd get home.
When he returned, he waited. Dinner. Routine. The usual forced smiles. Then, like clockwork, his parents began their nightly lecture at the table, reciting the Ten Rules. His sister sat beside him, her bag slung lazily over the back of her chair.
Now.
He glanced at her, then at the bag. Maybe… just maybe… they were like the others. If he didn't blink, if he just kept his eyes wide open, maybe they wouldn't even notice him move.
So he tried.
Slowly, carefully, he reached for the strap and lifted it off the chair.
No one moved.
He backed away with the bag clutched tightly in his hands, heart pounding in his ears. It worked.
Aurex crept down the hall and ducked into the corner near the stairs. Hands trembling, he slowly pulled open the zipper.
The second he saw it; a cold dread sank into his chest.
Inside the bag was a brain. A human brain. His sister had been carrying it around like it was nothing.
For a moment, he could only stare. His hand, almost on its own, reached in and touched it.
And everything changed.
The world blurred and collapsed around him.
He was on a bike, riding down a sunny street with friends. Laughter echoed through the town,real laughter. Not forced smiles. People argued. People cried. Some were kind, some weren't. But it felt real. It felt alive.
Another flash, he was in a small bedroom. A boy?, woke up to a mother scolding him for sleeping in. They laughed. She wished him a happy birthday. There were no rules, no fake smiles, no eerie silence.
Then another memory surged forward, quieter, more distant. He was standing under the rain, holding a yellow umbrella. Across from him was a girl with a scraped knee. She was crying. He remembered reaching out and offering her a piece of candy, trying to cheer her up. She took it without smiling. She didn't have to smile. That moment felt more human, more honest, than anything he'd seen in this town. The cold water on his skin. Her real tears. It was all so sharp, so alive.
Then, a mirror. He was brushing his teeth. He looked up.
And he saw his own face.
It was him. Aurex.
The memories snapped back into the present. His hands shook. His breath caught in his throat.
This is my brain.
The perfect smile he'd worn his entire life, flawless, unshaken, drilled into him like breathing, shattered in an instant. As the final memory flickered out, and he stared down at the brain cradled in his trembling hands, something inside him broke. A crack, deep and final, split through the mask he'd been forced to wear for as long as he could remember. His lips quivered, his jaw clenched, but he couldn't hold it anymore. The corners of his mouth collapsed. His face, once frozen in that awful, obedient grin, twisted into something raw. His eyes welled. His breath caught. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't smiling.
He was just a boy. Confused. Hurt. And terrified.
The weight of the truth crashed over him like a wave. He'd been carrying around a version of himself, hollow, smiling, artificial, while the real him had been torn away, locked somewhere deep inside this twisted place.
He was terrified, does that mean I am dead?
He wanted to touch it again. To remember more. Maybe even get answers.
But before his fingers could reach it, a hand closed around his wrist.
He looked up.
His mother was standing there. Smiling.
But her eyes, her eyes were crying.
"I'm really not sure," she said softly.
Aurex opened his mouth, his voice barely a whisper. "Mom?"
Light poured in.
His fingers faded. His arms disappeared. Then his chest. His legs. Bit by bit, his body vanished in silence, swallowed by the light.
The last thing to go were his eyes.
And in that final instant, there was no smile.
Only the truth.