Jayar's voice came through the call, calm and even, though the static made it sound distant. "Kayav, I'm sending you my new data card. Use this one from now on."
Kayav exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. His eyes flicked toward Felix, who was pacing in the background like a caged animal. "Felix again… he took the old one. And now he's losing his mind over the chip in his head." His tone carried both irritation and an undertone of worry he didn't want to admit.
Another voice entered the conversation, cutting in unexpectedly—Kiwooin, who had been listening quietly all along. "Wait. How did Felix even learn that the chip might be dangerous?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. For a moment, there was only silence on the line before Jayar finally responded. His voice dropped lower, as if weighing each word. "Dunakay told me. And I told Kayav, so he could pass it on to Felix. I didn't mean to harm him—and I never intended to. I was only relaying Dunakay's words."
Jayar ended the call, lowering the virtual screen with a heavy sigh. His mind raced in circles, uncertain what to do next.
Kiwooin, who had remained nearby, adjusted his crimson-tinted glasses with deliberate precision. His voice cut through the silence, sharp with disdain. "You still don't understand where the roots of this begin, do you?"
Jayar looked up, startled, but Kiwooin continued without pause. "You're acquainted with not one, but two sons of K.L. Normally, GOR erases people like that from existence. And yet you—you—are connected to both. Do you really think all of this is coincidence? Do you believe he simply allowed you to hear that conversation with me… with him… by chance?"
He leaned closer, his tone dropping, heavy with contempt. "If you haven't figured out who is behind all of this even now, then I pity you. I pity you—and your friends."
With that, Kiwooin turned sharply on his heel and left, the echo of his words lingering in the air like a curse
"Bonamassa," came the reply from Kim, Jayar's old friend. His voice carried the weight of something Jayar wasn't ready to hear. "He deliberately allowed you to overhear that conversation—the one you were never supposed to catch. He wanted you to hear it. He wanted you involved. And then he sent Zak Rose on that mission, tying all of you into his scheme. Don't you see? He set the trap perfectly. The question isn't why you heard it—the question is how he knew everything in the first place, and why he was so certain about it."
Jayar stiffened, his jaw tightening. "That makes no sense. How could he possibly know? Where did he get that kind of certainty?"
Kim hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to even speak the truth. Then he sighed, his voice lowering to a grave tone. "Because Alex told me."
The name hit Jayar like a blade. His mind stuttered, refusing to process the words. He took a step back, shaking his head. "Alex? That's impossible… Alex is dead. He's been dead for years."
Kim's expression hardened, his tone merciless. "No, Jayar. You've misunderstood me. Alex isn't dead. Yesterday—I spoke with him myself. We talked. His voice, his words… it was him."
Silence swallowed the room. Jayar felt his pulse hammering in his ears. His throat went dry as the revelation tore through his mind. Alive? Impossible. And yet Kim's words carried a conviction that shook him to his core.
His voice broke, ragged with disbelief. "No… no, that can't be. Alex is gone. I saw it. I know it. Don't tell me you spoke with him—don't tell me he's out there."
Kim's eyes didn't flinch. He simply stared, unmoved, while Jayar felt the ground beneath him shift.
The certainty he had clung to shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. If Kim truly had spoken with Alex, then everything Jayar believed about his death was a lie.
Had Alex survived all this time? Or was something wearing his voice, his memories, his very soul?
All that escaped Jayar's lips was a single, broken word. "How…?"
Kim's reply was immediate, his voice cutting like steel. "Marty," he said. "He doesn't let his debtors walk away with their debts unpaid."
The words hit Jayar with the weight of a hammer. His stomach twisted; his mind screamed for answers, but his body felt frozen in place.
Then, without hesitation, Kim raised his data card. The projection lit up the room in cold blue light as he pressed the call sequence.
Jayar's breath caught in his throat. On the shimmering screen, the signal connected. The name glowed bright.
Alex.
Kim was calling him—right in front of Jayar's eyes.
The line clicked, and for a heartbeat there was only static. Then a voice broke through—steady, familiar, achingly real.
"Hey, Kim. Miss me already?"
The casual tone, the inflection, the unmistakable rhythm—it was Alex.
Jayar's entire body went rigid. His chest tightened as though the air had been sucked out of the room. His mind screamed that this was impossible, yet his ears betrayed him with the sound of a man he had mourned.
It was him.