When Sara regained consciousness, the world seemed to spin around her for a moment. She lay still on the hospital bed, motionless, her body too heavy to move. But moments later, as awareness began to seep into her senses, a sudden jolt passed through her like an arrow. She sat up straight, startled.
The instant she did, a sharp pain surged through her skull, making her wince. Beside her, Sim was sitting quietly. Sara turned her head and looked at her. Something about her face felt oddly familiar—pieces of memory trying to click into place.
"You..." she tried to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm Sim," the girl replied softly.
And just like that, a flash lit up in Sara's mind.
"So you're that Sim... Maera's wife, aren't you?"
There was a brief pause. Sim nodded, the motion gentle, almost hesitant.
Sara's condition seemed far more stable now. She was speaking coherently, though her voice was frail—worn thin by weakness and whatever hell she had just crawled back from.
"Where's Maera?" she asked.
"She left with your friends for something urgent. But she'll be back soon," Sim answered quietly.
Before anything more could be said, the blare of sirens sliced through the moment like a blade.
Outside the hospital, a different chaos had begun to unfold.
Two ambulances screeched to a halt at the front entrance. From one, Maera stumbled out with Alexa in her arms—bloodied, unconscious. From the other, Sam emerged, supporting Zero, who was barely conscious, his shirt soaked in crimson.
"Call the doctor! Now—please, someone, hurry!" Sam's voice cracked as he shouted. He was shaking, barely in control, panic taking full hold of him.
There was no telling whether Alexa was still alive.
And in that moment, the quiet inside Sara's room stood in eerie contrast to the storm unraveling just outside its walls.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
The sound of Sam's screams and the shrill sirens drew the doctors out in a rush. Stretchers rolled through the corridor, wheels screeching as medical staff surrounded the chaos. Zero and Alexa were swiftly transferred onto them, blood staining the sheets beneath their bodies.
Sam, completely beside himself, couldn't stop crying. He ran alongside Zero's stretcher, refusing to let go, his grip white-knuckled with fear. His voice trembled as he shouted directions, pleaded for help.
From inside the hospital room, Sim watched it all unfold through the window. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she staggered backward, eyes wide, heart racing. The horror outside was overwhelming.
Sara, lying on the bed, noticed Sim's expression and instantly grew alert.
"What's happening?" she asked, her voice trembling as she attempted to sit up.
Sim rushed to her side, gently pressing her back down. "Hey, no, Sara—please—don't get up. It's nothing. Just... just some patients were brought in. That's all," she stammered.
But Sara wasn't convinced. Her body was weak, but her senses were far from dull. She could feel it—Sim's hesitation, the way her voice shook. Something was very, very wrong.
Outside, the chaos continued.
Zero and Alexa were wheeled into the operating rooms. Sam stood frozen, watching Zero disappear behind the surgical doors. It was as if the strength drained from his legs in an instant. He collapsed to the ground, defeated.
Maera rushed to him, catching him just in time. "Sam! Hey, breathe! Hold on to yourself—are you okay? Everything's going to be alright," she whispered, trying to keep herself together.
Sam sat on the floor, his face buried in his hands as he broke down completely. "Nothing like this has ever happened to Zero… never… His grandfather entrusted him to me. He said, 'Protect him.' And I couldn't... I couldn't protect him…"
His sobs grew louder, shaking his entire frame.
Just then, Sim approached slowly, her face pale, her steps uncertain.
"Mae..." she began softly, but the words caught in her throat. Her eyes darted between the blood-soaked clothes, the stretchers, and the panic.
"What is all this, Mae?" she whispered, her voice thin with fear.
She had never seen so much blood before. It coated Sam and Maera's shirts, stained their hands, marked their faces. Sim stood trembling, her breath hitching.
Maera pulled her into an embrace without a word. Sim collapsed into her arms, her body quivering, eyes brimming with tears. She was terrified—shaken to the core.
Maera held her tightly, even as her own hands trembled.
And then, as if the storm needed one final blow, Sim whispered something that struck like lightning.
"Sara… Sara is awake."
The words hit Maera and Sam like a thunderclap.
Both turned to her in stunned silence, their grief momentarily forgotten. A new wave of shock took hold.
Sara was awake.
And everything was about to change again.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Sam wiped his tears, voice thick with emotion. "Maera…" he murmured, barely holding himself together. "We can't tell Sara anything right now. She's not mentally stable. If she finds out and something happens—"
"No!"
Before Sam could even finish, Maera snapped. Her voice, usually so controlled, cracked under the weight of panic. She was unraveling now too. But before either of them could say another word, a loud crash echoed through the corridor.
All three of them froze.
The sound had come from Sara's room.
"Shit!"
Maera broke into a sprint, heart in her throat.
"Maera, wait—!" Sam shouted, chasing after her.
Sim stood still, stunned, unable to move as her mind reeled from the dread she'd just witnessed.
Inside the hospital room, Sara struggled to sit up. Her body felt foreign, too heavy. A sinking feeling churned in her chest—something wasn't right. The silence, Sim's hesitant smile, her friends' sudden absence—it all screamed at her. Something was very, very wrong.
She tried to stand, but her legs buckled.
As she fell, the wires and tubes connected to her body pulled taut, monitors jerked free, and the heart monitor crashed onto the floor with a shattering noise.
Sara gasped, disoriented, fear gripping her chest. She turned around, dizzy, trying to steady herself.
The door burst open.
"Sara!"
Maera rushed to catch her just before she hit the ground. Their eyes locked.
"Maera…" Sara whispered, blinking in disbelief. "You… what…?"
But then her gaze dropped.
Maera's shirt was soaked in blood.
Sara's breath caught.
"Whose blood is this…?"
Before Maera could answer, Sam stormed in behind her.
Sara's eyes widened again—Sam's shirt was also drenched in red. His hands were streaked in blood.
Sara stared between them, horror dawning on her face. The alarm in her gut, the one she had ignored, was now roaring. "What is going on?" she demanded, her voice growing stronger with panic. "What happened to you both? What the hell happened!?"
For the first time, Maera froze—truly frozen. The panic in her eyes mirrored Sara's now. They were caught.
They had no answer.
Just then, Sim rushed into the room, breathless. "They—They helped some patients," she said quickly, forcing a weak smile. "There was an accident. They were helping bring them in…"
It was a lie.
And Sara knew it.
She could feel it in her bones.
Maera and Sam nodded along stiffly, trying to make it believable. But their silence screamed louder than any words. Something was being hidden—something big.
Sara narrowed her eyes. Her voice was quiet, but it cut like a knife.
"Where are Zero and Alexa? Weren't they with you?"
Silence.
Three people. No answers.
It hit her like a punch to the chest.
Before anyone could speak, a doctor and a nurse entered the room.
"Sara? You're awake. How are you feeling?" the doctor asked gently, approaching her bedside with a practiced calm.
"I'm… feeling pretty good," Sara replied softly.
But inside, a storm had begun.
She wasn't "pretty good." She was spiraling.
Maera and Sam took the moment to quietly slip out of the room, vanishing down the hall while the doctor began his check-up.
Across the hospital, inside the sterile walls of the operating theater, two bodies lay on the edge of life.
Alexa's condition was beyond critical—her chances of survival were less than one percent. Zero wasn't far behind. His vitals were unstable, his body fragile.
The fight for their lives had begun.
And Sara didn't even know yet... that the people she loved were slipping away.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
"What the hell is this nonsense?!"A tall man, muscular, with a white mask and a large cobra emblem tattooed on his back, stepped forward and delivered a brutal kick to Griselda, who was already bleeding and spitting out blood.
"Boss, we had everything planned—but the police showed up out of nowhere," Griselda coughed, her voice shaky but defiant.
"I don't want your damn explanations," the masked man growled. "Finish them. Wherever they are—kill them.""Yes, boss!"
He sat down casually, crossing one leg over the other. "Who else is left?"
A guard dragged in a boy by the hair, his body bloodied and covered in bruises, barely able to stand."Boss, this is the one who tried to run."
The man—Asterus—glared at the boy and walked up to him."So you finally showed up. What did you think? That you could betray us and escape?"
The boy gave a faint, bloody grin and replied,"Scum like you will one day be crushed—by someone stronger, Asterus."And then he spat at him.
Griselda stormed forward and slapped him violently across the face."You bastard! You dared to talk back to the boss? It was you, wasn't it—you told the police everything!"
"YES!" the boy shouted. "I told them. They're my friends—I wasn't going to drag them into your filthy world. Your dark business has nothing to do with them!"
Griselda raised her hand again, but Asterus lifted a finger."That's enough, Griselda. Stop."
"But boss, look at his insolence—""I said I know."
Asterus walked slowly toward the boy, a smirk curling under his mask."You're the first one to say my name… out loud."
He gripped the boy's hair and tilted his head back, running his gloved fingers across the boy's face."Such a beautiful face," he whispered. "But what if… it lost its eyes?"
Terror gripped the boy's soul, and before he could move, Asterus extended a hand. Griselda placed a sharp knife into it without a word.
Without hesitation, Asterus plunged the blade into the boy's eye sockets, gouging both eyes out in one brutal motion.
"AAAAHHH! AAAAGGHHHH!"The boy's screams echoed like the cries of a dying animal, shaking the walls.
Asterus placed the bloody eyeballs gently into a glass jar."Now… your tongue."
He grabbed the boy's jaw, forced it open, and cut his tongue clean off, tossing it aside like trash.The boy writhed in unimaginable agony, blood pouring from his face.
Then, one by one, Asterus began slicing off his ears, his nose, then slowly—methodically—chopped off the tips of each finger. Every piece was carefully stored in separate jars.
But he didn't let the boy die.No. Asterus wanted him to live, to suffer, to serve as a warning—a message of what happens to traitors in COBRA.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Sim was visibly tense, her focus slipping away from everything around her. Sara was resting, and Sam wasn't there either. Maera noticed the stress in Sim's eyes and grew concerned.
"Sim, if you're not feeling okay here, should I drop you home?" Maera asked gently, her voice full of care.
"No... you're already doing so much. Don't worry about me, I'll head back myself," Sim replied with a soft smile, masking her anxiety.
"Alright... if you say so, I won't argue. But listen," Maera leaned in, speaking with gentle firmness, "be careful. Don't talk to any strangers, and stay alert."
"I will... I should get going now or it'll get too dark," Sim replied as she wrapped her arms around Maera in a heartfelt hug. "Okay then... bye, my dear."
Maera smiled and kissed Sim softly on the forehead. Sim picked up her bag and left, while Maera returned to her tasks, though a faint worry lingered in her eyes.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop...
Sam stood under the darkening sky, cigarette after cigarette burning between his fingers. His eyes were bloodshot, face weary. The night was heavy, thick clouds still veiling the stars. He leaned his head against the rooftop wall, lost in thought—Zero's words echoing endlessly in his mind.
He opened his crumpled cigarette pack. Only one stick left. He pulled it out, tried to light it—but after nineteen cigarettes, the lighter had finally died.
Frustrated, he kept flicking it, but it wouldn't spark.
Then—a flame appeared in front of him.
A hand lit his cigarette.
He turned.It was Maera. She had quietly joined him on the rooftop.
"You—" Sam began.
"Hmm..." Maera sighed deeply and stood beside him, both now staring silently at the sky.
"Sam," she said softly, "I never imagined a day like this would come."
Sam said nothing, but his silence was heavy.
"Neither did I," she continued, "that my childhood friend—the boy whose care was entrusted to me by his grandfather—would end up like this..."She swallowed hard."And Alexa… and Sara… it feels like someone cursed the bond we had."
A tear quietly rolled down from Sam's eye.
Maera suddenly noticed. "Sam… you're really possessive about Zero, aren't you?"
Sam gave a broken laugh. "Of course I am. He's my soul, my brother—not by blood, but by something deeper."
Maera looked at him with a strange softness in her eyes.And then, without knowing exactly why, she said:"You'll understand… one day."
She smiled faintly.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
After Asterus grew tired of playing with his toy, he threw the knife aside and lifted the boy up by his collar."Finally, this toy is broken," he muttered, then sat back down, licking the blood off his hands."Next time, bring me a toy that lasts longer," Asterus said with a cold smile.
Nearby, the others stood sweating nervously. Griselda stepped forward and started pouring wine."Boss, you've been playing for three full hours now," she said, serving Asterus a glass.
Asterus smiled and took the glass gently from her hand."Yeah? Then next time, bring me one that lasts four hours, Cherry."
Griselda smiled back. Asterus turned to Muri and two other men."Take his corpse away and burn it."
"Yes, boss."
Two men approached and began carrying the boy's empty corpse. Only the body remained now—missing limbs, eyes, nose, mouth, and even fingers had been cut off. The floor was soaked in blood, scattered with the boy's mutilated pieces.
Suddenly, a man rushed in."Boss, we've found their location."
"Good. Tell me everything," Asterus said.
After hearing the report, a sinister smile spread across his face."Well done."
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Sim had bought two cans of beer on her way home. The streets were quiet, cloaked in the chill of late night. Halfway through, she stopped at a small bench near the sidewalk, the cold air brushing against her cheeks. She sat down, opened one can, and took a slow sip, trying to collect her thoughts.
Just then, a young man approached.
He was strikingly handsome—tall, with soft features and kind eyes that shimmered even in the dim streetlight.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked gently.
Sim hesitated for a moment, surprised. "Y-yeah… sure, go ahead."
The wind picked up a little, and she instinctively tightened her grip on the can. She glanced at him sideways, then offered the other can with a small, polite smile.
"Wanna have some?"
"Thanks," he said, accepting it graciously. "By the way, my name's Dan."
Sim smiled. "Nice to meet you, Dan. I'm Similia… but my friends call me Sim or Simi."
Dan chuckled softly. "That's a beautiful name. And it suits you—did you know 'Similia' can mean cure in some contexts? It feels fitting."
She blinked in surprise, then smiled wider, touched by his words.
"Yeah… it does mean that in a way."
They both sat quietly for a moment, sipping in silence.
"It's getting late," Sim finally said, glancing up at the cloudy sky. "I should probably head home."
She stood, half-finished can in hand.
Dan hadn't even opened his yet.
"I'll walk you," he offered casually. "It's not safe to walk alone this late. Roads get too quiet."
She nodded, hesitated, then smiled. "Alright."
They began walking side by side, the gentle clink of the cans matching their steps. The night was still, save for the occasional rustling of leaves or distant car horn. Their conversation drifted from small talk to shared laughter… until soft raindrops began to fall again.
"Ugh, not again," Sim muttered, glancing up. She hadn't brought an umbrella.
Without a word, Dan took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
"Are you okay now?" he asked, his voice low, charming.
Sim's heart skipped.
"Y-yeah… I'm fine," she said, slightly flustered.
The rest of the walk was quiet. She didn't know why she couldn't speak. Maybe it was the way he walked beside her, shoulders damp from the rain but still shielding her. Maybe it was something else entirely.
By the time they reached her gate, she turned to him.
"Thank you, Dan… I'll wash your coat and send it to you."
He smiled warmly. "It's alright, Lilly. Don't worry—I'll come pick it up myself. Goodnight."
"Goodnight… bye," she said instinctively, not even knowing why she used that tone.
Dan gave a half-turn, smiled one last time, and started to walk away.
She watched him go.
Then she saw it—he stopped near the trash bin, and without even looking back, dropped the unopened can of beer into it.
Sim stood still.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Why… did that feel wrong?
Just a can. Just a small gesture.
But for some reason she couldn't name, it stung. Just a little.
TO BE CONTINEUD...