Jayar's body tensed, but instead of panic, fury took over. He shouted into Kim's data terminal, voice shaking with years of restrained anger. "Why didn't you contact him? Three—no, four years!"
On the other end, Alex remained silent, letting the words hang in the digital air. Then, finally, his voice returned—low, teasing, almost mischievous. "And what about the intrigue…?"
Jayar exhaled deeply, letting the tension flow out in a long, controlled breath. He turned his gaze sharply to Kim, eyes hard and unwavering. "Do you know where this intriguer is now, Kim?"
Before Kim could answer, Alex spoke again, his tone calm, confident. "I live in the city of BI."
The words struck Jayar with the weight of inevitability, leaving a tense silence lingering between the three of them.
"I suggest we meet," Alex said, his voice calm but carrying weight. "Let's meet at our secret hideout—the one with the special portal passage, the K.L. I mean. The one Dugan created back in '79."
Jayar's mind raced, images of the hidden location flashing through his memory. The mention of the portal passage—the K.L. —sent a shiver down his spine. This was no ordinary meeting.
Kim glanced at Jayar, his expression unreadable, but neither spoke.
...
Kayav watched Felix closely. It was obvious—he was torturing himself with his own principles, letting them dictate every thought. His mistrust extended to new technologies, to anything remotely complicated, and it was slowly consuming him.
Finally, Kayav could no longer hold back. "Alright… let's go."
Felix looked up, startled. "Where?"
Kayav's expression was calm, almost unnervingly so. "I have a surgeon. He'll remove that chip from your head. No permission needed, no formalities. Just the procedure."
Felix's stomach twisted at the words. The thought of someone operating on him without consent both terrified and strangely relieved him. He opened his mouth to protest, but the look in Kayav's eyes left no room for argument. Or maybe he didn't want to.
Kayav led Felix to his car without another word. The door shut with a dull thud, and the engine hummed to life.
They drove in silence. Felix glanced at him several times, his voice tense. "Where are we going?"
No answer. Kayav's expression was unreadable, his focus fixed on the road ahead. Time dragged on, the weight of unspoken words thick between them.
Eventually, the car rolled to a stop in a dimly lit parking area. They hadn't left the Dome.
Kayav reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a small medical kit. From it, he took a roll of bandages and held it out toward Felix. "Put this over your eyes," he said flatly.
Felix frowned, incredulous. "What? Are you serious?"
Kayav didn't blink. "Tie it. Tight."
Felix glared at him, frustration boiling over. "Why? What's this for?"
No answer.
The silence stretched until Felix's patience snapped. "I'm not doing this. Tell me what's going on."
Kayav's tone hardened. "Then live with that chip in your skull."
The words hit like a slap. Felix clenched his fists, jaw tight. For a moment, neither spoke.
Finally, he muttered through his teeth, "Fine. But I'm not covering my eyes."
Kayav exhaled sharply, a short, dismissive sound—"Q̠!" It was the same as saying no.
And then the argument started again, sharper, louder this time—two voices clashing in the suffocating quiet of the car, each unwilling to give in.
Felix let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "What difference does it make? It's not like I'm going to run away."
Kayav didn't answer. He just held out the bandage again, his expression steady, unreadable. The gesture said more than words ever could — a quiet demand, an unspoken trust test.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The hum of the car's engine filled the silence. Felix looked at the strip of cloth in Kayav's hand, then at his friend's face — calm, resolute, unyielding.
With a frustrated sigh, Felix finally reached out and took the bandage. His fingers hesitated over the fabric, trembling slightly, as if he could still change his mind.
Kayav watched him silently, waiting.
The car started moving again. Felix sat in silence, the bandage pressing against his eyelids, plunging him into darkness.
He couldn't see a thing—but he could feel. The steady hum of the engine shifted; the smooth rhythm of the road began to change. The sound beneath the tires grew rougher, uneven.
They weren't on the main highway anymore.
He felt each bump through the seat, each small jolt as the tires met raw earth. The air grew heavier, thicker with dust. Somewhere outside, the faint hum of city noise faded into silence, replaced by the whisper of wind and gravel.
Felix's hands tightened on his knees. Where are we? he thought. But he didn't ask. Not yet.
Beside him, Kayav drove on without a word.
Before the car came to a stop, Kayav's voice broke the long silence. It was low, steady, but carried a cold edge of authority.
"Listen carefully, Felix. You don't take off that bandage until I tell you. When it's over—I'll be the one to remove it. Not before."
Felix turned his head slightly toward him, his voice tense with frustration. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
Kayav didn't answer right away. The car bumped along the uneven ground, each jolt making the silence feel heavier. Finally, he said quietly, almost to himself, "More serious than you think."
Felix swallowed hard. The darkness behind the bandage felt thicker now, suffocating. He had no idea where they were or what awaited him—but one thing was certain: Kayav wasn't giving him a choice.
The car jolted one last time before coming to a halt.
For a moment, there was only silence—the quiet hum of the engine, the faint hiss of cooling metal.
Then Kayav's voice cut through the stillness. Calm. Flat.
"We're here."
Felix froze. Beneath the bandage, his world was still pitch black, but he could feel it—
the air had changed. It was colder now, heavy with dust and something faintly metallic.
Wherever they were, it wasn't somewhere people were meant to come.