"Soren! Hurry up... we are late for class." Pencil hurried as fast as his protruding tummy could allow him—swinging left and right like a simple pendulum bulb.
He would look at Soren behind, urging him to walk faster.
But Soren knew that there was no need. They were already late for the class.
Also, he needed to think. And his current pace helped the process.
Images flashed in his head.
The Black-clad figure (Shade Killer)
The presumed dead cadet in his room.
The CCTV cameras not showing his attacker.
Tommy's mysterious disappearance from the detention center that the authorities were trying to hide.
They were all connected somehow.
The puzzle pieces were falling in place—all elements of a bigger picture his subconscious was begging to make sense of.
What other piece was he missing?
Yes.
There was also—
"Soren! Soren!!"
He raised his head to Pencil
"Not that door," Pencil whispered.
