The last signal

CHAPTER 2 — THE LIGHT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW

CHAPTER 2 — THE LIGHT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW

Leo woke before his alarm.

For a few seconds, he stayed still, staring at the ceiling while his mind tried to decide whether the previous night had actually happened. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the ventilation system and the distant sound of traffic beginning to move through the city.

Then he remembered the signal.

The blue light.

The symbol on the glass.

And the message that had appeared on the screen.

Leo sat up.

His phone was still on the desk. He picked it up and checked the time. No missed calls. No strange messages. Nothing that suggested the world had changed while he was sleeping.

That should have made him feel better.

It didn't.

He turned toward the window.

Morning light had begun creeping between the buildings opposite his room. The glass looked completely ordinary now. No blue glow. No strange movement. No line of light hanging across the sky.

Leo walked closer.

The symbol was still there.

He stared at it.

In daylight, it looked less frightening and more confusing. A circle crossed by a thin line, with two tiny breaks near the edge. It looked like something designed by a person who had spent too much time trying to make a simple shape look important.

Leo touched the glass.

Cold.

He pulled his hand away.

"Okay," he whispered. "That's definitely not something I imagined."

His phone buzzed.

Leo nearly dropped it.

A message from Marcus appeared.

You alive?

Leo stared at the message for a second before typing.

Unfortunately.

The reply came almost immediately.

Good. I still need your homework.

Leo smiled despite himself.

You're a terrible friend.

And yet you keep answering me.

Leo shook his head and put the phone away.

Marcus had a talent for making ordinary problems sound like emergencies. If Leo told him about the blue light, Marcus would probably listen for ten seconds, ask whether aliens had finally arrived, and then demand to know if aliens could help him pass mathematics.

Leo wasn't ready to tell him.

Not yet.

He dressed and went downstairs.

His father was already in the kitchen.

A cup of coffee sat beside him, untouched. He was staring at a tablet on the counter, although the screen was dark. His face looked tired.

Not ordinary tired.

The kind of tired that came from spending too many hours thinking about something you didn't want to think about.

"You're up early," his father said.

"So are you."

"I've been awake for a while."

Leo pulled out a chair.

"Couldn't sleep?"

His father glanced at him.

"Something like that."

Leo noticed the tablet.

"What's on there?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you staring at it?"

His father gave him a look.

"Do you ever eat breakfast without asking twenty questions?"

"Sometimes."

"When?"

Leo thought about it.

"Can't remember."

His father almost smiled.

For a moment, the kitchen felt normal.

Then Leo remembered the previous night.

He reached for a piece of bread.

"Dad."

"Hm?"

"What's Project Origin?"

His father's hand stopped.

The change was small, but Leo noticed it immediately.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Online."

"Leo."

"What?"

"Stay away from it."

"You said that yesterday."

"And I'll say it again."

Leo leaned back.

"Why?"

His father looked toward the window.

"Because some things don't become safer just because you understand them."

"Maybe. But not knowing is starting to feel worse."

His father said nothing.

Leo watched him carefully.

There was something behind his expression. Fear, perhaps.

Or guilt.

Leo decided to push harder.

"Did Mom work on Project Origin?"

His father looked at him.

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because her name is connected to it."

His father stood and carried his coffee toward the sink.

"Eat your breakfast."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the answer you're getting."

Leo stared at him.

He hated that sentence.

Adults always seemed to believe that refusing to answer a question somehow made the question disappear.

It didn't.

It just made Leo more curious.

He took another bite of bread.

Then he asked the question that had been sitting inside him for years.

"Did Mom leave anything behind?"

His father's shoulders stiffened.

"What makes you ask that?"

"I just want to know."

"Your mother left a lot of things behind."

"Like what?"

His father turned around.

"Things I don't think you're ready to understand."

Leo gave a short laugh.

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

"How do you know?"

His father looked at him for a long moment.

"Because I knew your mother better than you did."

The words landed harder than Leo expected.

He looked down.

There were memories of his mother everywhere in the house, but none of them were complete. A photograph here. An old scarf there. A recipe written in handwriting he could barely remember. His father had always protected those memories as if they were fragile objects.

Leo stood and picked up his bag.

"I'm going to school."

His father didn't stop him.

Leo reached the door.

"Have a good day," his father said.

Leo looked back.

"You too."

He paused.

"That was suspiciously normal."

His father almost smiled.

"Go to school."

For the first time that morning, Leo smiled too.

School passed without giving him much chance to think.

He sat through lessons, copied notes, answered when the teacher called on him, and spent most of the time wondering whether the symbol on his window had been left there by someone.

At lunch, Marcus dropped into the seat beside him.

"You look terrible."

"Good morning to you too."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Marcus laughed.

"Did you sleep?"

"A little."

"How little?"

Leo shrugged.

Marcus studied him.

"You saw something again, didn't you?"

Leo looked at him.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because every time you're hiding something, you start answering questions with questions."

Leo smiled.

"Maybe I'm becoming mysterious."

"No. You're becoming annoying."

"Same thing."

Marcus shook his head.

"Whatever is going on, don't do anything stupid."

Leo raised an eyebrow.

"You say that as if you know me."

"I do know you."

That was the problem.

Marcus knew when Leo was lying.

He also knew when Leo was about to do something reckless.

Leo finished eating and stood.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

Marcus looked at him.

"You're lying."

Leo smiled.

"See you tomorrow."

"That's not what I asked."

Leo walked away before Marcus could continue.

He didn't go home.

Instead, he headed toward the older part of the city, where renovated towers stood beside buildings that looked as though they had been forgotten by time.

The city had changed quickly over the years. New transport lines crossed streets that used to be crowded with old buses. Delivery machines moved along sidewalks. Giant screens advertised products that Leo couldn't afford and didn't particularly want.

But the older district had survived.

Leo pulled out his phone.

Most references to Project Origin had disappeared from ordinary search results. He tried different spellings. He searched old articles, archived reports, government pages, and discussion boards.

Nothing useful appeared.

Then he found an archived map.

Leo stopped walking.

A small location marker appeared near the edge of the district.

ORIGIN RESEARCH ANNEX.

His eyes narrowed.

He zoomed in.

The location marker carried the same symbol he had seen on his window.

Leo looked around.

Nobody seemed interested in him.

That didn't make him feel safer.

He continued walking.

The facility was partly hidden behind a newer technology complex. A fence surrounded the property, but the rear section looked abandoned. Weeds had grown through cracks in the pavement, and several security lights were broken.

Leo walked around the side.

A narrow maintenance door sat behind a wall of overgrown plants.

He touched the handle.

Locked.

"Obviously," he muttered.

He stepped back.

Something scraped against the other side.

Leo froze.

The sound came again.

Slow.

Metallic.

He stared at the door.

Nothing moved.

Leo waited.

Silence.

He looked around the empty alley.

"Absolutely not."

He took another step backward.

Then he whispered, "That is exactly how people in horror movies get themselves killed."

He walked away.

He didn't run.

At least, he told himself he didn't run.

By the time he returned home, his father wasn't there.

A note sat on the kitchen table.

Working late. Don't wait up.

Leo picked it up.

Something about the paper bothered him.

It looked old.

Then he noticed a faint smell.

His mother's perfume.

Leo stared at the note.

He turned it over.

Nothing.

He checked the table.

Nothing.

Then he noticed something underneath one of the chairs.

A small metal key.

Leo picked it up.

A symbol had been engraved into the metal.

The same symbol.

He stared at it for several seconds.

Then he looked toward the stairs.

His father's bedroom door was closed.

Leo knew he shouldn't go inside.

He went upstairs anyway.

The bedroom was dark.

Everything looked ordinary at first. Clothes. Books. A desk. Old photographs.

Then Leo noticed a small locked compartment at the bottom of the wardrobe.

He tried the key.

It fit.

The lock clicked.

Leo opened the compartment.

Inside was a metal case.

He carried it to his room and placed it on his desk.

For a moment, he simply stared at it.

Then he opened it.

Inside were three things.

A photograph.

A small data chip.

And a folded piece of paper.

Leo picked up the photograph first.

His mother stood inside a laboratory beside two researchers.

She was smiling.

Leo hadn't seen that smile in years.

He turned the photograph over.

A date was written on the back.

June 17, 2049.

Beneath it were four handwritten words.

We finally made contact.

Leo's stomach tightened.

He unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was his mother's.

If you're reading this, something went wrong.

Leo swallowed.

He continued.

Don't trust the first explanation.

Then he read the final lines.

Origin was never about sending information.

It was about receiving it.

Leo stared at the sentence.

Receiving it.

Not sending it.

He looked at the data chip.

A tiny blue indicator appeared on its surface.

Leo dropped it.

The light disappeared.

He stood completely still.

Then footsteps sounded outside his room.

The handle moved.

The door opened.

His father stood there.

His eyes went straight to the desk.

"Where did you get that?"

Leo looked at the metal case.

"Mom left it."

His father's expression changed.

"What happened to her?" Leo asked.

"I don't know."

"Did she die?"

His father looked away.

"I don't know."

"Then tell me what Project Origin was."

His father closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, there was something in his face Leo had never seen before.

Fear.

"Your mother wasn't trying to contact the future," he said quietly.

Leo waited.

"She was trying to find out who had contacted us first."

Leo didn't know what to say.

The sentence sounded impossible.

Yet his father's face made it difficult to laugh.

Outside the window, far above the city, a tiny blue light appeared between two buildings.

Leo didn't notice it.

His father did.

And the look on his face told Leo that whatever had started years ago had never really ended.

THE LAST SIGNAL