I was back in my room.
Really back.
I took a shower—longer than necessary—letting hot water wash over me until the last traces of the forest, blood, and dirt felt unreal. When I finally stepped out and dried myself, the mirror reflected someone who looked… normal.
Too normal.
I walked out of the bathroom, towel still around my neck—
And stopped.
He was standing there, holding a neatly folded pair of suits.
"…Bro," I said tiredly,
"you don't need to do this."
The man looked up and smiled faintly.
His name was Evan.
He wasn't intimidating. That somehow made him worse.
Evan waved it off casually.
"It's alright, it's alright. Part of the job."
I sighed.
Helplessly.
There was no point arguing. I took the suit from his hands. The fabric was smooth, high-quality, the kind I'd never bought for myself.
"Thanks," I muttered.
He nodded and turned away as if it were nothing.
A few minutes later, I was dressed.
The suit fit perfectly. Too perfectly. Tailored in a way that felt intentional, not coincidental. I adjusted the cuffs, then the collar, feeling like I was stepping into someone else's life.
As we walked out together, something bothered me.
"…By the way," I said,
"I can't feel it."
Evan glanced at me.
"Feel what?"
"The tower," I replied.
"The connection. It's gone."
He stopped walking.
Then he shook his head slowly.
"That's normal."
I frowned.
"Normal?"
He looked at me fully now, his expression calm, almost apologetic.
"The tower doesn't stay connected," Evan said.
"It only summons at the end of the year."
I paused.
"…What?"
He continued, voice steady.
"Exactly at twelve o'clock. New Year's. Along with the new members."
The words settled slowly.
Once a year.
One moment.
One pull.
I stood there for a second, the hallway suddenly feeling longer than it should've been.
"So until then…" I said quietly.
"You're off the clock," Evan replied.
"Officially."
I exhaled through my nose and started walking again.
"…Guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts."
Evan didn't answer.
And somehow, that silence said more than words ever could.
A few minutes later, I stepped out of my room.
She was standing at the entrance.
The woman from before—still calm, still composed, hands folded neatly in front of her. She looked like someone waiting to greet a guest, not someone about to decide their fate.
I stopped a few steps away.
"…Where are you guys taking me?" I asked.
She blinked once, then smiled politely.
"Oh, nothing special," she said lightly.
"We'll take you to a detention facility."
My brow twitched.
She continued, her tone unchanged.
"Just for observation. If you're not harmful to society, you'll be released."
Pity crept into her eyes.
It wasn't exaggerated.
That made it worse.
I frowned.
"…What are you talking about?"
The smile faded.
The air changed.
The hallway felt tighter, heavier, like something invisible had been pulled taut.
Evan exhaled slowly beside me.
"Bro…" he muttered.
"Just surrender. This is for your own good."
I looked at him.
Really looked.
Then I chuckled softly.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just amused.
The panel flickered at the edge of my vision.
Sanity: 5%
"…You know," I said calmly,
"do you know what my sanity level is right now?"
The woman frowned.
She stepped closer.
Her voice sharpened.
"Hey," she said coldly,
"do you know who we are?"
She closed the distance deliberately, eyes locked onto mine.
"We're military," she continued.
"And don't think for a second that just because you spent one day in some tower, you're a superhero now."
Her hand moved.
Metal clicked.
"You're still human," she said flatly.
"And a bullet will kill you just the same."
Behind her—
Evan had already drawn his gun.
It was steady.
Pointed directly at me.
No hesitation.
No bluff.
The woman reached out, ready to restrain me.
The hallway was silent.
Too silent.
Nola shifted against my chest, her body tense.
And for the first time since I woke up—
I realized something.
They weren't afraid of the tower.
They were afraid of me.
I heard it before I fully understood it.
Boots.
Radios.
The faint mechanical hum of optics adjusting.
This wasn't my home anymore.
Not really.
When I looked past them—past Evan, past her—I saw it.
Soldiers.
Everywhere.
Down the hallway. Outside the windows. On nearby rooftops.
Snipers.
A tightening circle.
Something inside my chest twisted.
No…
This can't be home.
My vision sharpened.
The panel flickered.
Sanity: 10%
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was absurd.
The sound echoed unnaturally loud in the room.
Both of them flinched.
The woman stepped back instinctively. Evan's grip tightened on his gun, his hands no longer steady.
I kept laughing.
Then her phone rang.
The sound cut through everything.
She froze, glanced at the screen, then answered quickly.
"Yes, sir."
Evan leaned toward her, whispering urgently.
"Who is it?"
She swallowed.
"…Commanding Chief."
I stopped laughing.
Slowly, I walked over to the sofa and sat down. I crossed my legs calmly, leaned back, and stared up at the ceiling like I was lying in my own living room again.
I began to speak.
Not to them.
Not to the phone.
"To no one in particular."
"You know," I said softly,
"when my mom was dying…"
My voice cracked.
Just slightly.
"When my mom was dying, her last wish was—"
The phone crackled.
A man's voice boomed from the speaker, sharp and impatient.
"What are you morons doing?"
"How much time do you need?"
He sighed audibly.
"What's the target's condition?"
The woman looked at me.
At my unfocused stare.
At my quiet mumbling.
Her voice shook when she answered.
"…Sir. I'm afraid we can't control him."
There was a pause.
Then a snort.
"An uncontrollable weapon is useless," the voice said coldly.
"We don't need—"
A stone appeared in my hand.
No warning.
No buildup.
I threw it.
The motion was effortless.
The stone crossed the distance instantly.
It struck her head.
She fell without a sound.
Dead.
The room exploded into chaos.
Evan shouted, raising his gun, hands shaking so badly the barrel wavered.
"DON'T MOVE—!"
I stood up calmly.
Still talking.
"My mom's last wish," I continued quietly,
"was just for me to live well."
Evan backed away, terror flooding his face.
"Stop," he pleaded.
"Stop whatever you're doing."
I looked at him.
Then laughed again.
"Oh?" I said lightly.
"Are you scared?"
Outside, weapons clicked into ready positions.
Red dots began to bloom across my body.
And somewhere on the other end of the phone—
The commanding chief went silent.
To be continued.