He did not say, "My name is Victor."
The name left his mouth like a belated confession—something the body had known long before the mind recovered it.
Victor.
His voice did not tremble, but the room did.
Tension was not a feeling; it was matter. Something dense that filled the air, made breathing a conscious act, and made silence heavier than speech. The white ceiling lights did not flicker, yet they seemed to hesitate, as if thinking before granting light. Everything in the room was postponing itself.
Elio was the one who broke the suspension.
"And what comes next?"
The question was not aimed at Victor alone. It was directed at the room, at the missing years, and at something that had not yet been said.
Victor slowly turned his head. The movement seemed to precede thought.
"What do you mean by next?"
Before an answer could form, Louis lunged forward. He did not run; he surged, as if the ground itself had shoved him ahead. He grabbed Victor by the shoulders, his fingers sinking into the fabric as though searching for something beneath it.
"Tell me," he said too quickly, "what do you remember? What did you do before you met me?"
The question sounded less like an inquiry and more like a plea—or an accusation afraid of being true.
Elio pushed Louis aside. It wasn't violent, but it was decisive, like a choice made long ago.
"Step back. Don't question him too much."
He paused, then added in a softer tone:
"He hasn't fully regained consciousness yet. Don't pressure him. We'll know… soon."
Soon was a flexible word. It could mean minutes. It could mean years.
Victor lifted his eyes to Elio.
"You're… Elio, right?"
"Yes."
"I feel…"
He stopped. The word refused him.
"I feel like I know you."
Elio didn't smile. He didn't deny it. He only said:
"Don't try to remember. Your head will hurt, and you won't remember anything anyway. Information doesn't come back all at once."
He lowered his voice.
"It flows… one piece at a time."
Victor nodded, as if testing the weight of his head.
"No. I remember. Not everything, but… a part of it. Something small, like a shard of glass lodged in memory."
He looked up directly.
"What year is this?"
Elio didn't hesitate.
"The year 3000."
Victor laughed. It wasn't a laugh of joy. It was the laugh of someone who hears a joke and doesn't know why it's funny.
"Really?"
He murmured:
"That's… strange."
"It doesn't matter now," Elio said.
Then he turned slightly toward Hamilton.
"Louis is with me. We're going to reinforce the others in Verdantiz."
"I'm coming too," Victor said.
The words came out before he thought about them, as if the decision had existed for a long time, waiting only for a voice.
Hamilton cut in immediately.
"You can't."
"I have to."
Victor's tone wasn't defiant. It was final.
"You have no authority over me."
Hamilton's voice rose—not in anger, but in fear disguised as an order.
"I won't let you go. Lock the doors."
The doors didn't lock. Orders sometimes arrive late—when they're already too late.
Elio turned to Victor.
"Why do you want to go?"
Victor didn't think long.
"Because my memory is incomplete. Distorted."
He paused.
"And because there are two capsules… still missing. I'll look for them."
Elio raised an eyebrow—a small movement that said a great deal.
"And how will you do that?"
Victor smiled, the smile of someone who had caught a thread in an unfinished conversation.
"I understand from what you're saying that you have a way."
Elio let out a short, soundless laugh.
"Hah. Interesting."
Then he studied him for a long moment.
"You're different from before."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing."
He paused, then said:
"How about you join us? We recover the capsules together. We need them too."
Victor didn't extend his hand.
"Maybe."
He said it as if weighing the word.
"But don't assume I'll do everything you want."
"Do what's appropriate."
Elio finally extended his hand.
"So we have an agreement?"
"Most likely," Victor said.
Before their hands could meet, a sound cut through the room.
Emergency call.
Elio answered through his earpiece.
"Alex, what's going on?"
The voice on the other end was fragmented, as if the words were being torn from the middle of an unheard chaos.
"Elio… we're in trouble."
Hamilton snatched the receiver.
"Alex! What's happening there?"
Silence. Then—
"We're taking losses."
"Answer me!"
"The first squad—"
The voice broke, as if it had swallowed something sharp.
"They've been wiped out. We found their bodies in their positions. In formation."
Nothing fell in the room, yet everything felt as if it had.
Louis didn't scream. He didn't move. His anger was calm in a terrifying way, like a sea without waves.
"I'm going now," he said quietly.
"No," Hamilton said. "Don't. Don't let your emotions lead you."
"I'll go with you," Victor said.
Elio looked up at the ceiling, then spoke as if to himself.
"It seems to be R-308."
He exhaled.
"He's been causing trouble for years."
"That's impossible," Hamilton said.
"Is he capable of breaking a balanced formation?"
"We noticed he isn't balanced at all. Like the other Unsynced."
His voice grew colder.
"This is our chance to take him down. We've failed because of him more than once."
Hamilton shouted:
"Listen to me!"
But Elio spoke at the same moment, with a calm more frightening than shouting:
"Sir Hamilton… the decision is no longer yours."
Then he glanced toward the corridor.
"They've already left."
They were gone.
Elio handed Victor a weapon. It wasn't large, but it looked like something that knew exactly what it was meant to do.
"What is this?" Victor asked.
"Pulse."
"The observers had them too."
"Observers… strange term."
Elio smiled.
"But you're right."
Victor looked around.
"And Louis?"
"Angry."
Elio said it like a weather report.
"The first squad was his family. Two boys and a girl. Friends."
He paused.
"That's why he's angry."
"That sounds cruel."
"We're not talking about this now. Let's not talk about this now."
Hamilton's shouts followed them, but they didn't catch up with their decisions.
The vehicle sped off. The road wasn't clear, but speed compensated for uncertainty.
Verdantiz.
The forest wasn't green; it was ancient. The trees didn't rise—they accumulated, layer upon layer, like memories that had never been erased.
"Elio is coming. And Louis with him."
The voice came from the shadows.
"Looks like he's going to do something reckless."
"That's fine. We control everything here."
A soft laugh.
"The forest helped us. Its resources… generous."
The vehicle stopped.
Elio got out first.
"Alex. Is what you said true?"
"Yes, but…"
He hesitated.
"The bodies… weren't… complete."
Louis had already walked away.
"Elio."
He said it without looking back.
"The mine. It's the only place left, right?"
"Yes."
"Why do you want to go?"
"Because I don't believe they're dead."
"Victor will follow you."
"I'll go unnoticed."
"Fine."
Elio turned to his comm.
"Hamilton, set the lines."
"Calling all units."
Hamilton's voice was broken.
"Take your positions. Prepare your weapons. Don't let anyone leave the mine."
He paused.
"And if you see R-308… eliminate him."
"Copy."
"Copy."
"Copy."
Then, in a less formal tone:
"Son… be careful. I don't want to lose you."
"Understood, Dad."
Louis turned away. In his mind, there was only one thought: Victor.
He knocked on the glass.
"Victor! Open up, I want to—"
The door opened.
No one.
Only air.
"What…?"
"Dad," Louis said slowly, "Victor got out of the vehicle."
"Elio! Did you see him?"
Silence.
"Louis…"
Elio said, his voice stripped of everything:
"Don't tell me."
"Calling all units!" Hamilton shouted.
"Have you seen a young man in his twenties?"
"No."
"No."
"We see someone running… heading toward the resource building."
"Louis!" Elio shouted.
"Go. We can't leave him alone."
And Louis ran.
Deep in the jungles of Verdantiz, Victor was running.
The gun in his hand. His wallet pounding against his chest in an uneven rhythm.
And in his mind, a few words, carved deep, impossible to erase:
I have to go before it's too late.
And he didn't know…
what he would miss.
To be continued…