No One Will Ever Hurt You Again I Promise

He Is Waking Up

After this famous sleepover, H became a superstar, which meant that his popularity soared to another extent and he shot up on social networks, claiming more than one victim. Internet users loved his video. Above all, the charm, serenity and confidence he exuded won many over.

The few videos of him circulating on social networks went viral as soon as they were posted by his classmates. His father was able to intercept the ones in which he appeared most clearly, but others from his profile escaped him, which was not very pleasant.

Many other people reposted the videos with very promising hashtags, and with the way he was received, anyone could have seized the opportunity to make a name for themselves in the industry.

With the face that Howie has, it will be impossible for him not to break through; he is handsome, cold, distant, intelligent and very talented.

If only Howie were a normal person, a teenager like everyone else, dreaming of the same fantasies. He could have amassed hundreds of thousands of fans in record time.

He has all the qualities of a blogger or an ambassador or even a super singer. He's got it all, but because Howie is Howie, and Howie's needs are unusual, instead of seizing the opportunity he was given, he sank into a deep darkness.

He cannot take a step without girls swarming around him like bees in search of their natural habitat. He hates it when people approach him unexpectedly or jump around like sheep in his presence. It's far too much for him to bear and endure.

The people he associates with are the ones he chooses, the ones he feels some kind of connection with that he can't even explain to himself.

This is the case with his relationship with the twins, he can sense them ten thousand miles away from him. Like when they were hiding behind that wall, thinking they were discreet enough not to get caught.

After a few attempts to get to class and cope with all this change, he gives up, it's too much. There was nothing he could do, he couldn't stand them and, strangely enough, his classmates took his performance as an excuse to approach him, touch him and so on.

As a result, he no longer wants to get up in the morning to go to class, and school has become a kind of punishment for him over the past few days. All he wants to do is dig a hole and hide there for the rest of his life.

Ah, what a drag!

While the twins are having a great time with the situation, they enjoyed spending time with him at the party and like the fact that he doesn't react as abruptly and rashly as he does for the others when they approach him.

When reflecting on the mistake he made, he feels the urge to retreat from society and avoid contact. His father takes it upon himself to wake him up every morning, which is not a usual routine. Additionally, his father had to request a few days off from the headmistress by explaining that Howie is unwell.

He no longer runs at daybreak and avoids crossing paths with the twins at all costs. He blames them for his current situation.

However, the course of the evening changed unexpectedly when he unintentionally expressed his opinion, adding some excitement to the night. His friends then requested more songs.

He attempted to decline as he regained awareness of his actions and surroundings. Aike noticed his predicament and joined him, followed by his brother.

The trio played in perfect harmony, as if they had been performing together for years.

Their performance was a resounding success. The twins had never derived such pleasure from playing the piano; they were unaware of the enjoyment it could bring. They played solely to meet their mother's needs, not for their own pleasure.

At the time, he was content because the twins were with him. He had not anticipated their company after their mutual agreement to keep a low profile.

He was doing something he enjoyed with people whom he respected greatly, although he would never admit it aloud. Despite their occasional heavy-handedness, he appreciated them.

He allowed himself to be swept away by the current and the sense of well-being that the twins brought him.

At one point during the evening, Elie's parents became curious about the activities in the room and decided to take a discreet look. However, what they witnessed caught them off guard.

They had anticipated everything except for the sight of the three most enigmatic and unsettling individuals in Wood Hill, seated side by side.

The discretion they had discussed earlier had vanished, and they had entered the room and taken their seats next to Mice, one of the many children present. Mice, who was absorbed in singing at the top of his lungs, did not even notice them.

Céline was surprised. How could a boy who does everything he can to stay away from people enter into a perfect symbiosis with two other beings who are almost as mysterious and imperturbable as he is?

The three of them managed to create such an attractive, warm atmosphere, even though they were cold, insensitive people who didn't give a damn about anyone else. Let's just say that life has its mysteries.

"Children these days are full of surprises. We may never fully understand this situation. Using force and intimidation will only exacerbate the issue," she observes calmly.

Her husband looks at her affectionately, shakes his head, then puts an arm around her shoulders and gently kisses her hair.

"Yes, they are full of surprises, and we were not so different from them. Time has changed, but adolescence remains the same for everyone," he confirms, still with his mouth in his wife's hair.

Celine has known the twins since they were babies. She is almost a second mother to them. She has never seen them so happy, relaxed, and childlike. They have become cold and distant, with no enthusiasm for anything, trying to follow in their mother's footsteps.

They just do what they have to do without ever taking any detours, to the point where they have become one and the same, and no one can tell them apart.

It is as if they are robots programmed to perform the same functions. She records this magical moment on her mobile phone, perhaps to one day share it with Maryse and Lucian and remind them of the precious moments they have stolen from their two adorable sons.

She does this because she believes that such opportunities are rare.

Today, witnessing them laugh, play, and sing with a boy who is not even a part of their world is almost miraculous. Observing them in this manner, it appears as though the boy in question has always been a part of their world, as if he has always been there.

There is a peculiar sensation that the three boys are attuned to the same frequency and resonate perfectly together.

Their harmony is unusual, and what she sees is almost impossible.

When they offered their arms to her daughter, she felt the same way and was amazed at how easily they did it. She didn't say anything, but she noticed that they accepted Elie as she was, even letting her touch them.

Celine is in a good position to know how unusual that is.

If only Celine knew what Ayke was thinking every time he looked at her daughter, she would probably have an aneurysm by now.

Ah, Maryse, you may not realise what you've missed by raising your children to be emotionless machines.

Children have the remarkable ability to seek what they lack at home elsewhere. Children are not like adults who may endure discomfort for social reasons or other absurdities to please unrelated individuals. Fortunately, this need to conform and please has not yet corrupted the souls of these children like gangrene.

Celine considers, while imagining the potential loss if her husband and Raphaël had not assisted Elie with her transition.

After photographing the boys, she searched the crowd for her children. They appeared to be enjoying a concert or a holographic revival of past artists.

These evenings feature holograms performing as if they were still alive.

She captured a wide shot of her daughter laughing and dancing with Mandy, Esicar, and Tess nearby, which brought a smile to her face. Elie appeared comfortable in her two-piece men's ensemble, which stood out from the other girls' elegant choices.

Laughter is contagious. Genuine laughter that comes from the heart is more infectious than any disease.

After selecting the images she wanted to keep from that night, she tugged on her husband's shirt. He was lost in contemplation of the three young people at the piano.

He had never seen the piano used to its full potential and thought he would never see this day in his life. Here he was, enjoying such a spectacle for free.

In the end, it was not a bad investment. His children are more inclined towards DIY, breaking and tinkering things to their heart's content. Robotics and mechanics hold no mystery for them.

His wife tugs on his sleeve to signal that it is time to leave, and they crawl to the door, giggling like two mischievous children.

This night reminds them of the life they led when they were young and carefree. They admit that they were a real pain to their parents, and that makes them giggle all the more.

They retired to their room and spent an unforgettable night engaging in activities they had not experienced in their youth. It should be emphasised that they were far too prudish and reserved for such activities in the past.

It is worth noting that this night not only rekindled their childhood memories but also awakened their primal instincts and inner debauchery.

The missionary position and the use of a spoon were prohibited during their activities that evening. However, the shower, balcony, sofa, stool, and dressing table were all fair game. The night had been both hectic and erotic.

Although they had thought they had forgotten how to spice up their s*x life, they were pleased with the outcome. Since then, they have eagerly sought out opportunities to repeat the experience.

They even encourage their children to spend the night with their partners, so they have more privacy to explore the rest of the house.

The piano has found a new use for its abilities. The flame that was dormant in them has been rekindled and now burns like a furnace; they are on the verge of a volcanic explosion.

After the party, Raphaël made it his mission to mentor Howie. This is one reason why H has locked himself in his room, and the twins have found an excuse to break their self-imposed rules.

They deliberately sought out H, whether in the cafeteria, playground, or during personal development time. It all was overwhelming for H to cope with.

It seems as though the twins have been waiting for an opportunity to become a burden to the intolerant individual in their lives. H's familiarity with them is leading him towards his downfall. To make matters worse, he spends hours sleeping and shutting himself away from his father and everything else.

Marc, on the other hand, is afraid that this behaviour will lead to more violent outbursts or other unpleasant surprises that they are not prepared to face. He faces his nightmares alone and in his own way, even though they tend to overwhelm him.

Although he had to confront his nightmares on a daily basis, Howie faced them alone and in his own way.

His willpower is exceptional for a child, and he always achieves what he sets out to do. He demands a lot from himself, to the point where his father sometimes wishes he would never grow up.

Marc spends his days sitting in front of his door, flipping through magazines without being able to concentrate on the subjects or anything else. He only leaves his post when he needs to attend to his physiological needs.

Marc doesn't even bother cooking, as Howie can't swallow anything while he's in this state. There's no point in forcing him either, the result will be the same but much more violent. Any intervention will only push him further down the tunnel they don't want him to go.

The twins blamed themselves for what had happened to him and avoided disturbing him further. Marc explained that H had nothing against them, he just needed time to get used to the whole situation.

Sometimes they drop in to keep Marc company, quietly, of course. They walk the dogs with Alfred and look after them for days on end. This time even the divas, the huskies, have adopted them as their own. If H treats the twins well, they can do the same.

Marc was at his son's door when he heard a muffled noise outside. It was the boys bringing the dogs back to him after a week away from their own home, without catching the scent of their young owner, their father, in fact.

The twins thought it was time to take them home, maybe Ravi could help H get out of the bedroom more quickly. Ravi and Pin are growing at an incredible rate. It's incredible, it's as if they were never babies at all.

The dogs happily entered the house, wagging their tails in all directions. They ran up to Marc, who welcomed them with open arms, gave them a few cuddles, and talked to them softly while they licked his face and nibbled on anything they could get their teeth on - his hand, nose, ears, and so on.

The boys are proud to see them so enthusiastic as they wait patiently for their turn. Afterwards, the dogs sit with their ears flapping and tails tucked between their legs, looking sadly at the stairs.

The adults are the first to leave, emitting sad little whines. Marc sighed before he departed from them and approached the boys. He understood that they were upset, but he was unsure of what he could do to help. The situation was one of desperation and sadness. They must wait until Howie returns from the depths of his nightmare.

The boys greeted Marc with palpable emotion, and it was then that the twins realised how much they'd missed him.

Marc also realised how much they had become a part of his life and that of his son. How touching!

He embraced them tenderly as they let themselves go in his arms, as if they'd been waiting for this all their lives, closing their eyes to better appreciate the moment. He embraced them one by one, then both at once.

Alfred, as usual, remained at a good distance, watching them with a broad smile on his face. Marc beckoned him to come closer... he hesitated for a moment, then Ayke ordered him to obey his elder when spoken to.

He giggled happily but discreetly before joining the small group. They stayed like that for a while before Aike asked to come out because he was choking. It was the first time in a week that Marc had allowed himself to laugh; it seemed like an eternity.

When the group hug was over, Aike looked sadly up at the stairs leading up to the bedrooms and the terrace where H liked to hang out. He turned to Marc with the same sad expression that broke Marc's heart.

Marc didn't know how, but he had really developed a soft spot for these young people, so he beckoned him up without hesitation.

Without waiting, Aike darted towards the stairs with an agility that left the other speechless, without any restraint he devoured the stairs like candyfloss.

Ayke smiled as he watched his brother behaving without restraint or bothering to understand if Marc had really given him permission to go upstairs or not.

"Why don't you go up too?" Marc asked him when he saw Ayke staring at the stairs with a confused smile on his face.

"No, let him have some time with Howie, even if it's through a door, and I hate it when people are sad; it depresses me," he replied with a grimace.

His brother is sad; Ayke knows that all too well. He also knows that Aike is not the demonstrative type, but he can't hide his feelings and emotions from him either. Even if Aike doesn't talk about it, Ayke knows that H means a lot more to him than he lets on.

So he waits patiently for his brother to share his thoughts, ideas, wishes, fears and needs with him - they may be connected, but he doesn't want to invade his personal space either. He lets him breathe, he has to.

Aike found the pile of magazines piled up outside the door, sat down on the cushions on the floor and pressed his ear to the door, whispering like a prayer.

"You have to come out, please, we miss you. We are zombies without you. Your father barely eats, and Ayke is far too serious these days, he scares me. And the dogs wag their tails whenever they hear your name..."

"...You know how Alfred isn't much of a talker, I have to tell you that's changing too. He talks about everything and anything, like a real chatterbox, which isn't really like him. Without you, we don't know how to behave normally, and that sucks."

He paused, took a deep breath and let out a sigh that echoed through the corridor like thunder. He placed his hand on the handle of the door, which opened effortlessly, and glanced around the corridor before gently pushing the door open in front of him.

Carefully, he rose from the cushion and entered the room, closing the door without a sound. He tiptoed over to the bed where H lay. His hair was scattered in all directions, some sticking to his skin, his complexion pale and greyish.

"This is what it looks like when you go days without eating or drinking," Aike muttered through clenched teeth.

"Look at you now, you're unrecognisable. If I hadn't known you before, I would never have believed that you were one of the few beauties the world is lucky enough to see every century. Lucky for you, you've already won me over," he chatted on, examining H from head to toe.

H was sleeping peacefully... at least that was the impression he gave, the sheets barely hiding his body, his dry, rough lips slightly parted. Aike clicked his tongue against the side of his mouth in disbelief. He really could not believe his eyes, the H he knew would never let go in such a state.

He shook his head still in disbelief. And moving closer and closer to the bed, he leant forward a little and asked quietly, "So where's all your hostility, your feline figure and your smug noble features, hmm?"

He got no answer, nothing, not even a little sign of life or one of those sideways glances Howie often threw at him like he was a piece of rubbish. He sat down on the bed beside Howie. With his back pressed against the headboard, he looked at the sleeping face for a moment, then began to play nervously with his fingers, looking serious and anxious.

"You know, I didn't mean to touch your hand when we played the piano at the party. It just happened, I was looking at your fingers and then bam, I don't know how it happened. I'm sorry, I have to say I'm strange when I'm around you, you're like some kind of giant magnet that keeps pulling me in and I can't do anything to stop it. I have no power over this phenomenon."

"I know this isn't a reason and I have no excuse, but please forgive me. I know I made you feel uncomfortable, it was obvious from the way you reacted. It was as if you'd touched something disgusting. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips, then he wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye in a gesture that made him look vulnerable.

"Don't cry!" A voice echoed through the room.

Aike gasped at H's voice, which took him by surprise, and pulled his back away from the headboard of the bed, as if his back was on fire. The voice was a little hoarse and deep with an intense vibrating undertone that made it sound like something inhuman.

It was H's voice, but at the same time, it wasn't his. Aike doesn't know how to explain what he just heard, but he knows what the voice made him feel and hear.

He doesn't have the words to make anyone else understand if he had to explain it, but he only knows what his instincts tell him, it's dangerous.

He scrambled out of bed, his heart on the tip of his tongue, but when he got up he realised that Howie was still asleep. Worse still, Howie hadn't moved an inch in his comatose state.

He whispered his name under his breath as he had done before, but there was no response.

He cautiously approached the bed again and climbed onto it, kneeling down to get a better look at Howie's whole face. If this was some kind of trick Howie was playing on him, he swears to God, Howie is going to regret it bitterly. He was about to turn his head when Howie suddenly opened his eyes.

Aike gasped again, this time with a high-pitched squeal like a little girl, and hastily put his hand over his mouth to stifle his cry for fear of attracting the attention of the other inhabitants of the house. Fortunately, unlike the first time he met Ravi, he was able to control this little scream.

He should have followed Marc's instructions not to disturb Howie in his vegetative state. It is unclear why he chose to break this rule. Does he think he is so important that he can disregard the significance of people's personal lives? What on earth has gotten into him?

He eventually had to resort to calling his brother for assistance through their mind-link, but received no response. He began to panic when his brother didn't answer his call, as he always did. It seemed as if something had interfered with their signal, blocking them both out.

He tried to move, but he couldn't even wiggle his little finger.

"Now my body is giving up on me," he said. Tears of despair streamed down his cheeks, which were red with confusion and panic. The voice spoke again in the room.

"Don't cry, I mean you no harm." The vibration in those words could shake a continent.

Aike observed H's mouth, which moved minimally. He scanned the room for any cameras, but saw nothing new except for the out-of-place blue eyes staring back at him.

Without warning, he felt his muscles relax as if under anaesthetic, and he involuntarily tumbled into the void, free-falling with nothing to catch him. Suddenly, everything in his mind toppled over into endless nothingness.

Marc and the boys were in the kitchen talking, Alfred and Ayke. They try to distract Marc with all the nonsense they can find while telling him stories. Ayke tells him in detail how the sleepover went and how H has become a new kind of celebrity at school, this time not in a bad way as he is already known as the star of chaos.

He told it all, not even skipping the part where Kaeli took the liberty of giving Mandy advice on what kind of guy she should date. As Howie's unexpected behaviour had left him little time to give Marc a full report of what had happened, he used this little tête-à-tête to distract Marc a little. He doesn't like the tired look on Marc's face, it's not like him at all.

Marc laughs heartily, but it's not the story that makes him laugh, it's the silly face the boy makes that makes him laugh. Ayke imitated all the characters in his story that he found interesting. Suddenly, he stopped when he saw Marc's frightened face, as if he had seen a ghost.

He rushed over to Marc, who suddenly seemed paralysed and all the blood had drained from his face. He touched his shoulder and Alfred got up from his stool, waiting to see how he could be useful. He went to get a glass of water and handed it to Marc, who slowly began to regain his senses.

"What's wrong?" Ayke asked him worriedly. "You shouldn't get sick too. Who's going to take care of your spoiled son if you let yourself go too, hmm?" The boy continued in the same worried tone.

Marc looked at him dazedly and then a big smile appeared on his lips. "I'm fine, silly boy. Don't worry about me. I'll be with you for a long time to come. I promise, unless you don't want to see me anymore." Despite his smile, the worry is still there in his eyes.

"That won't happen," Ayke replies with relief. He puts his arms around Marc's shoulders and stays like that for a moment, he does it by reflex, it's the behaviour he always shows when he's with H. And these few times spent with Marc help him and his brother a lot, he's like a father figure to them.

Marc lets him do it whilst he thinks about what he has just heard. He wonders if Ayke has gone into the room or if it's his imagination playing tricks on him. He hasn't slept much in the last week, so anything is possible. But when Ayke suddenly starts convulsing, he realises that he wasn't dreaming, that he really heard it. He's there.

He definitely heard it…

"What's wrong, Ayke?" Alfred hastened to him. The boy began to convulse as he tried to answer the question, but to no avail, Marc took him in his arms and carried him into the living room, where he laid him down on the large sofa.

"Has this happened to him before?" Marc asked Alfred, who trailed him as he placed Ayke on his side to protect his head and teeth. Then the voice was heard a second time, Aike is in Howie's room, Marc mentally confirms.

Alfred is too scared to gather his thoughts to give Marc a clear answer. He's never seen a scene like this with the boys before, it's the first time and he's completely lost.

Not to mention the fact that they're not even at home, how is he going to explain all this? But for the moment, he doesn't think too much about it, he's just shocked to have witnessed such a thing.

"Alfred!" Marc shouted to bring him back to him because he was far away and his breathing was distorted. Marc needed his help; he could not take care of three ill people at the moment. And what was happening upstairs was even more serious. He had to look after Howie.

With Ayke unconscious and Alfred panicking, he couldn't go up and leave them alone.

"Alfred, listen to my voice, big boy, you can do it and breathe slowly. Listen, Alfred, Ayke has nothing serious... He just needs to rest for a while, and then we'll take him to the hospital. But for that, I need you to stay with me, my boy....yes, stay with me. That's it... now breathe... good lad."

Alfred tries to follow Marc's calm voice, trying as best he can to control his breathing. Suddenly, footsteps draw their attention to the stairs.

To Marc's surprise, Howie was coming down the stairs, completely blind, with an unconscious Aike in his arms. He rushed over to take Aike from his son's arms.

"Put them together, he needs his brother." The hoarse, deep voice ordered, but only Marc could hear it. Howie was still asleep, or rather still unconscious.

It wasn't him who carried Aike into the living room, it was something else. A cold sweat ran down Marc's back and his soul trembled with fear.

"He's waking up!"

He whispered to himself as he carefully removed Aike from his son's arms. Relieved of his burden, Howie collapsed at Marc's feet like an inflatable doll. Marc blocked him with his foot to prevent him from rolling down the rest of the stairs.

Once Marc was sure he was safe and stable, he returned to the sofa where he placed Aike next to his brother, his hand slipping into his brother's.

Then he went back to pick up his son, who was carelessly curled up on the stairs. He carried him into the living room and laid him down on the settee opposite the one occupied by the twins.

Ayke has calmed down, he is no longer convulsing, his face is turning pink again, and his brother is showing the same symptoms. Marc breathes a sigh of relief.

He checks his son's vital signs and then those of the boys, his face showing relief. "Everything's fine, they are fine." He mutters.

But there was something more worrying, something he had to report immediately...

He asked Alfred to keep an eye on the bedridden youngsters in his living room while he grabbed his phone and went down to the basement, where he sat in an armchair for a moment to collect his thoughts.

Everything had to be in place and he had to find the right words before he dialled that number.

He always thought he would never have to do this, after all, they brought Howie here to prevent him from meeting or crossing paths with his Aiguillon.

That bunch of charlatans of shitty prophets, they could have warned them that this Aiguillon could be anyone, in Howie's case, and that it did not matter to their world, their universe or whatever.

If they had only known, they would have locked Howie up and never let him out, but that would have been really cruel.

Ah, it's unbelievable!

He grumbled more and more with all the thoughts running through his head, but he had to calm down to give his employer a good report.

"What will the orders be now?" In spite of himself, he continued to think about the different possibilities to avoid a catastrophe, until he felt an incalculable migraine, which gradually overcame him.

He really doesn't need it, a migraine would be the extra straw that could tip over his already overflowing glass. It's enough for him to be swimming with no land in sight, he doesn't need a blooming migraine to knock him off his feet.

Another migraine is like digging his grave with his bare hands and burying him alive.

He started pacing the room in obvious stress. The calm Marc, always in control, was in the grip of a crisis that was turning everything upside down.

What a blooming mess!

"s**t, s**t, s**t! I'm up to my neck in it!" He shouted in a muffled voice as he kicked at a cardboard box not far from the chair he had been sitting in a while ago... The box toppled over and spread out on the floor, all its contents scattered from one side to the other.

With a weary sigh, he ran a tired hand through his hair, all the fatigue of the past few days hitting him at once like a lorry. Even his panda eyes, which had not been visible before, suddenly appeared, as if waiting for the right moment to destabilise him all at once.

Something caught his eye in the scattered contents of the box. He crouched down in front of a particular drawing that caught his eye. What he saw there left him speechless.

His blood froze in his veins and the vessels turned to ice. Every effort his heart made became a punishment for him as he felt his veins tearing with every beat.

Desperately, he began to rifle through the box, pulling out the drawings one by one and laying them out on the floor in chronological order.

He was stunned! Destiny or whatever it is, it's a damn b***h that got him, got them all.

He lets out a dry, joyless laugh, his eyes almost clouded with tears. He had been hit very, very hard. He would never have believed that something like this could happen to him, literally or figuratively.

"It was all there, right in front of us, but we were too busy trying to avoid the inevitable that we didn't see what was important... so we missed it all," he muttered, this time without irritation.

He burst into another fit of joyless laughter, a laugh that echoed like a whip on the bare skin of the damned. He picked up the drawings, which he had photographed one by one before placing them back in the box. This would be his new file.

He ran a tired hand through his hair, the dark circles under his eyes clearly indicating that he needed some rest, but he didn't think he would have time to rest after today... the holiday is over, Marc thought.

And what exactly will become of the boys' friendship?

"I like these kids," he admitted aloud.

The twins awoke and gazed at each other for a moment, bewildered and disoriented. Alfred, who was not far away, rushed to their aid and explained what had just happened: how Howie had carried Aike here and how he had since fallen back into a dreamless sleep or a coma.

Howie's arrival and subsequent descent into an unconscious or comatose state. He was unsure how to portray Howie's present condition.

With a touch as light as a feather, Aike stroked his brother's hand as he laid it on the sofa, giving him time to come out of his silence and understand what had just happened.

Aike turned in Howie's direction, jumped slightly when he saw him looking so pale, got up painfully from the sofa and walked towards him.

He knelt down in front of Howie and stroked his hair tenderly. He started talking to him again, whispering for him to wake up.

"Wake up, you have to I... Wake up, don't let us down, you have to fight... wake up, please, we need you," he grabbed Howie's hand and brought it to his forehead, leaning on his elbows on the sofa. "Come back, please."

He begged one last time, and under the gaze of Alfred and Ayke, who was far too exhausted to react or say anything, Ayke closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Marc, still in the grip of the wave of grief that had overtaken him at the thought of making this call, still did not know how to present his report. So he decided to take the plunge and wait for the sentence that would come later.

He grabbed the handset of the golden landline phone hidden behind one of the displays and pressed the only button on the device before lifting the handset to his ear.

His heart leapt as a distinguished, cultured, and familiar voice answered the line and said those two damning words.

"General, report."

With nothing left to do and the damage already done, he resigned himself, stood up straight like a soldier, and threw himself headfirst into the water.

Whatever happens, happens.

"Your Majesty, he is waking up!"