Noon, the following day.
"Hey, hey! I think you got this part wrong!"
Zheairn voice rang out beside Rain's ear.
The two of them were seated next to each other in the library, hunched over textbooks in preparation for the afternoon class.
They sat on the same short-legged table as always, the floor beneath them covered in a soft mat.
There were five of them total.
Neither Eliza nor Zyn seemed remotely interested in their own books.
Instead, they both stared intensely—almost suspiciously—at Rain and Zheairn, brows furrowed so tightly it looked painful.
Rain leaned forward onto the table, resting his arm on the surface as he responded quietly,
"Ohh… so I should put this here, right?"
"And this part down here is the converted answer from above—dividing the coefficient and applying the exponent."
Zheairn continued cheerfully, his voice light and carefree.
It was as if he naturally radiated positivity.
Eliza shifted closer to Zyn and whispered softly,
"Hey… who is that guy?"
Zyn turned her head slightly, covering her mouth as she whispered back,
"Apparently… his name's Zheairn. Rain met him yesterday."
Eliza glanced over again, her face skeptical, then turned back.
"When did they even get close?"
Zyn shook her head subtly, as if to say, "Beats me."
At the corner of the table, Gaia sat in silence.
His eyes swept steadily across the page of his book, word by word,
paying no mind to the conversation around him.
He flipped the pages one after another with calm precision.
And yet… from time to time,
a faint smile crept across his lips,
as though he had stumbled upon something… interesting.
Gaia was now fully immersed in his own little world.
While Zheairn and Rain continued their quiet chatter, and the two girls still stared at them with unwavering suspicion, Gaia remained silent—emotionally distant and clearly detached from the present moment.
Seated at the head of the table, he bent over the book in his hands with intense, focused eyes.
It was a manual on mechanical engineering—filled with intricate schematics and machine theory.
He turned each page slowly, barely blinking.
A faint smile curved his lips as he read,
as if he were genuinely entranced by the subject.
In his mind, the machines from the pages had already come to life.
Pistons pumping.
Belts spinning.
Gears turning with flawless precision and smooth momentum.
…The sounds of imagination echoed only within his mind.
Gaia felt a small itch on his neck.
He raised a hand to scratch it,
but his fingers brushed against the edge of his collar instead.
He froze for a moment.
Then gently, almost absentmindedly, began running his fingers over the surface of the metal band.
The collar was black, sleek but firm.
Bright white letters glowed softly against its surface: his ID code — A5-029-BX.
He traced his fingers along the metal, inspecting it, feeling every contour like he was trying to memorize it by touch.
Slowly, his fingertips followed the grooves, searching for any kind of mechanism or hidden button.
But there was nothing.
Smooth.
Still.
His eyes never once left the book, and yet there was something deeper behind them now—something fascinated, absorbed.
Unknowingly, a soft blush had colored his cheeks.
He let go of the collar and placed his hand gently back on the book.
A faint smile remained on his lips.
And then… he looked up.
The first thing he saw was the eyes of his four companions, all fixed directly on him.
Eliza and Zyn glared in perfect synchrony, brows tightly knit in suspicion.
Rain, seated nearby, tilted his head slightly to the side, studying him with quiet curiosity.
And Zheairn—still beside Rain—wore the same bright, friendly smile as always.
All of them were watching him.
"Uhh… Is there something on my face?"
Gaia closed the book with a finger tucked between the pages, wearing a faint, puzzled smile.
He looked around at his friends, all of whom had just been staring at him.
The four of them…
immediately shook their heads in near-perfect unison—
as if absolutely nothing had happened.
Rain reached over and gently patted Gaia on the shoulder.
A silent gesture of reassurance.
Which, oddly enough, only made Gaia more confused.
"…What is going on?" he wondered.
Rain simply returned his gaze with a soft smile and a small nod, as if to say,
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
Gaia let out an awkward little chuckle,
blushing slightly—still with no clue what had just happened.
Rain withdrew his hand and turned back to his own book,
and the atmosphere around the table quietly reset itself to a calm normalcy.
Zyn and Eliza bowed their heads, whispering softly to one another about the material in their hands.
Zheairn—who, aside from Eliza, was probably one of the more naturally adept at the subject—
leaned toward Rain again and pointed to a question on their book.
Seeing everyone immersed in their own world again, as if the odd moment hadn't even occurred,
Gaia scratched his head in mild confusion, then let out another soft smile.
"…Was there really something on my face?"
He rubbed at his cheek lightly,
then opened his book again to the same page as before—
and slipped right back into the mechanical world waiting for him on paper.
________________________________________________________
"Ah—hahaha!"
"Catch me if you can!"
A boy's bright, ringing laughter echoed through the corridor—
a place that had been silent just moments ago,
as if lifeless.
Now, it was filled with the sounds of rushing footsteps
and carefree shouts of joy—
children running, chasing one another with unguarded innocence.
"Wait up!"
Another boy's breathless voice called out from behind.
He was trying to keep up, feet pounding hard on the floor of the long hallway.
The slap of running shoes, the laughter, the gasping for air—
all blended into a chaotic, joyful rhythm.
Smack!
"Got you!"
The boy who landed the tag grinned wide,
his hand still resting on his friend's shoulder.
The one who had been caught dropped to a crouch,
hands on his knees, shoulders heaving with each panting breath.
The boy who'd been chasing wiped sweat from his forehead and spoke between gulps of air:
"I… tagged you last… huff—I think we should… pant go back and tell the others to take a break…"
...
"Hey… I think we've run really far… Let's head back already."
The boy who had been doing the chasing raised his hand, motioning for his friend to return with him to the indoor playground. His voice was laced with exhaustion, his breathing still ragged.
But his friend didn't move.
He stood still.
Eyes locked on the far end of the corridor—
a corridor that stretched impossibly long, fading into the hazy silhouette of multiple branching paths.
He said nothing for a while.
Just as the silence grew heavy,
a faint, unplaceable sound seemed to echo from somewhere far ahead.
"You okay?"
The first boy asked, stepping closer.
The other finally turned to look at him—
then slowly lowered his gaze to the floor.
His shoes were just a few inches from a painted red line that ran across the cement floor.
Bold white letters were stamped across it:
"RESTRICTED AREA – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY"
A soft voice escaped him.
"…What do you think is beyond this line?"
The question made the first boy freeze.
He turned to look at the red stripe with hesitation.
Curiosity danced on the tip of his tongue.
But fear—and the weight of strict rules—pressed heavily against his chest.
The warnings were clear.
The line was not to be crossed.
"…But we're not allowed to go in there,"
he answered, stepping back slightly, eyes filled with uncertainty.
"Wanna go take a look?"
The boy standing just behind the red line spoke in a whisper—
his voice uncertain, but the glint in his eyes burned with wild curiosity.
The other boy, who had just suggested they head back, stopped mid-step.
His eyes widened slightly.
"But what if we get in trouble…"
His voice trembled just a little.
Worry laced every word, but it couldn't completely hide the flicker of temptation in his eyes—
as if his heart was being pulled between the warning they'd always been told and the need to know.
The first boy looked around.
The hallway was empty.
No guards.
No footsteps.
Not even a camera.
Only the soft, flickering ceiling lights overhead—
and the kind of silence that seemed to press against your lungs,
making your breath quieter than you meant it to be.
He turned back to his friend, a faint smile on his lips.
A smile that barely managed to hide the thrill he was feeling inside.
"No one's gonna know... There's no cameras, no guards…"
"C'mon. Let's just sneak a peek. Just for a second… then we'll run back."
Both boys remained frozen at the red line,
hearts pounding erratically,
as if the whole world had fallen silent—
leaving only the sound of their own racing pulses.
The boy closest to the line held his breath.
And in a single heartbeat, he made up his mind.
He stepped forward.
Just the tip of his foot touched the floor beyond the boundary—
It lasted only a fraction of a second, but—
***
WEE-OO WEE-OO WEE-OO!
A shrill, piercing alarm burst out from his collar.
Red light flared violently through thin slits along the metal edge,
pulsing rapidly,
like someone's heartbeat about to explode.
Then came the cold, emotionless voice of the automated system:
; "You have exited the authorized area.
Please return to the safe zone immediately.
Repeat—You have exited the authorized area.
Please return immediately."
WEE-OO WEE-OO WEE-OO!
The boy flinched hard.
He yanked his foot back into the safe zone in a panic.
Instantly, the siren cut off—
as if nothing had happened.
The red light dimmed…
flickered once…
and died.
Only the sound of his heavy breathing remained—
and wide, shaken eyes.
The other boy, still safely behind the line, stared in stunned silence.
He slowly reached out a hand, his voice trembling:
"…L-let's go back…"
His words were barely a whisper, but they trembled in the air.
He kept his hand out—halfway—like he wanted to pull his friend away.
"I'm serious… let's go."
The boy turned to face him,
his expression still shell-shocked.
He gave a faint, shaky nod.
"Y-yeah… Let's go back…"
They walked away quietly, side by side.
Not saying a word.
Just the soft patter of their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
Leaving behind only the red line on the floor—
still resting there,
silent and unmoving,
like a vein etched into the skin of the building...
The two boys were already on their way back,
retracing their steps quietly…
but—
—they were being watched.
From somewhere far, far down the corridor,
something was staring at their backs.
The hallway seemed endless,
stretching into a blur—
and at the very farthest edge,
something was there.
Too distant to make out clearly.
Too still to notice.
Too quiet to be heard.
But it was watching them.
Only one pair of eyes.
Locked onto them.
Watching.
From the shadows beyond sight.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The sound of a clock echoed faintly.
_______________________________________________________
Meanwhile, Gaia sat peacefully,
focused on his book among friends.
The atmosphere was calm, comfortable.
But in a single fleeting moment—
he felt something.
A faint tremor.
So soft it was barely perceptible.
So subtle it could be mistaken for imagination.
But he had felt this before.
Once.
He frowned slightly, setting the book down on the table.
Then slowly leaned forward—
placing his ear flat against the wood,
pressing in close.
There it was.
A subtle vibration.
Whispering through the table, into his ear.
Faint… distant…
and then—
gone.
Just like last time.
His thoughts drifted back to that first time he had sensed it.
What was it? Why again now?
He sat back upright, thoughtful.
Picked up his book again.
Even as a sliver of unease crept into his mind,
he kept his expression neutral—
said nothing.
Gave no hint to the others.
And resumed reading,
quietly…
as though nothing had happened.
***********************
The barrel lowered—slowly.
The man in black blended seamlessly with the darkness.
Still. Silent. Focused.
He had been tracking the movement of the distant figures—
two small lives, unaware.
They had turned back,
retreated,
and eventually vanished from sight.
A quiet breath escaped from behind his mask.
He relaxed his stance.
Lowered the gun.
Then, without a sound,
he slung the weapon to his side
and straightened up.
One step back—
into shadow.
Each movement was deliberate,
disciplined.
Trained.
And then—
gone.