On the way back, I thought a lot about Neight's words and came to at least two conclusions.

First, our perceptions of life and our worldviews are vastly different. Yes, I could have noticed it earlier from the subtle signs, but now I was absolutely convinced of it. Being a complete rationalist, he saw everything around him as mere tools to achieve his goals. It seemed like he was ready to take someone's life without hesitation if necessary. This trait of his scared me.

Second, I was needed by him, which was undoubtedly good news. On the other hand, the reasons for my importance were unclear. Maybe he truly saw me as a potential ally who could provide significant support in the future, but it was hard to believe. At the very least, it seemed that this wasn't the main reason. Still, whatever the case, he didn’t intend to harm me, which meant I could act more boldly.

I need to go back to those questions I didn't have a chance to ask due to the situation... Yes, I’ll do it! I should find out everything right now!

I took a deep breath to calm myself and muster up the courage. To be honest, I was quite nervous. Sure, all my reasoning and assumptions were fine, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be wrong. At the same time, I knew that the longer I hesitated, the more doubts would consume me, so I couldn’t delay any longer.

"Neight, I want to talk to you about something," I finally managed to say.

"And what might that be?" His voice sounded as calm as ever and, to me, not particularly interested. It seemed like he was asking more out of politeness and wasn’t eager to talk about anything. I wondered if I had really chosen the right time, but Neight brought me back to reality, "So, what did you want to talk about? Unfortunately or fortunately, I can’t read minds."

Thinking that there was no turning back, I made my move.

"The thing is, my memories of my last days on Earth have come back to me," I said, paying close attention to Neight's reaction. And either it was my imagination, or he flinched slightly at my words.

"Good for you. Memories are an integral part of us, shaping us as individuals, and therefore truly important."

As he once again started speaking in his intellectual tone, I rolled my eyes.

What else did I expect from him? I worried for nothing.

"Or did you want to discuss something specific? Is there something from your past that’s bothering you?"

I was surprised that he decided to continue the conversation himself. Then again, maybe it was just politeness?

"Yes, there’s one thing that’s bothering me. I knew someone," I paused briefly before continuing. "His name was Albert Cresswell."

Neight showed no reaction. Either he was very good at hiding his emotions, or he really didn’t care. I cautiously continued:

"Does that name mean anything to you?"

"I’ve only heard a bit about this person, but I don’t know him personally. I can’t say anything about him," he replied as unemotionally as possible, which only intensified my suspicions. "But why are you asking about him all of a sudden? Is this the most important thing among all the memories that returned to you?"

I felt like I was walking on thin ice. The situation was further complicated by the fact that I couldn't see his facial expression. He might have been controlling his voice, but subtle expressions could have been noticeable. On the ship, Neight would have definitely found a way to slip away from me and avoid the conversation under the pretext of some super important task that needed to be done right now, not a second later. But here, as we walked along a narrow path leading out of the forest, there was nowhere for him to go. So I decided to ask the main question that had been bothering me for several days.

"The thing is, you two look very similar. I’d even say, strikingly similar. Are you sure you don’t know anything about him?"

At that moment, Neight stopped dead in his tracks. Holding my breath, I waited to see what would happen next. The tension was overwhelming. It seemed as if even nature around us fell silent, leaving us in absolute quiet. I heard Neight huff and mutter to himself, "So, Albert Cresswell..." Then he abruptly turned to me.

"Let me clear one thing up. I’m not Albert, as you might have thought," he stated confidently.

"But why do you look so much alike?" I pressed, feeling a sense of security. It was hard to believe Neight’s words, and I wanted to get to the bottom of the truth.

"I don’t know what to tell you. Were there not many people in the world who looked alike?" There was a hint of irritation in his voice. The conversation clearly wasn’t bringing him any pleasure.

"Believe it or not, yes! I just want to know what happened to my friend... And I’m asking you to tell me if you know something," I continued to push.

Neight took a deep breath, standing with his arms crossed. He was probably considering what to tell me. Could it be that I caught him off guard?

"Listen, I really don’t know what happened to him or where he is now. I can only assume that he’s still in cryosleep in the lab where we escaped from, but I can’t be one hundred percent sure," there was doubt in his voice.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"I see..." My voice was tinged with disappointment. It seemed to me that Neight was clearly hiding something, so I wasn’t going to stop. "But how do you know about him? What do you know about him?"

"Don’t you think you’re asking some pretty tactless questions?" he suddenly shot back at me.

Hah! And you are the one talking about tact?! I thought.

"Maybe to some extent," I replied, trying to keep my irritation in check. "But these are questions of trust. You said it yourself—if we want to survive, it’s better for us to cooperate, and for that, trust is crucial. But you’re definitely hiding something from me, not giving me the full picture! And you expect me not to ask any questions?"

Having voiced my concerns, I mirrored his stance, crossing my arms in the same way. I needed answers, and I wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t going to back down. We stood there in silence, facing each other, until Neight finally dropped his pack and sat down on it, accompanying his movements with an annoyed click of his tongue.

"I suggest you sit too. Seems like we’re not going anywhere right now anyway. You want to know more? Fine, I’ll tell you something, since you’re so insistent."

At first, I was a bit taken aback, not expecting him to give in so quickly. Following his lead, I set down my load and got comfortable, preparing to listen carefully.

"I’ll start with the fact that I only heard about Albert Cresswell from the conversations of the lab staff where I was. All I know is that he’s the son of one of the scientists, but that’s about it. I had no idea how old he was, what he looked like, or where he was. I only found out we looked alike just now from you."

"Could it be that he really knows nothing about Albert?" I thought with frustration. I felt sad and somewhat disappointed that, once again, I hadn’t managed to learn anything useful. But it was too early to despair.

"You said you were in a lab?" I suddenly latched onto that word and cautiously continued, "Did this happen after cryosleep?"

"No," he curtly replied. "This was on Earth several years before the war began."

Now, this is interesting... I thought, perking up. Meanwhile, Neight continued:

"The lab was my home, where I lived for as long as I can remember. Honestly, I spent most of my time there. As part of tests and various experiments, I occasionally went outside, but not that often… And I didn’t interact with people living ordinary lives like you," Neight seemed to reflect on something after saying this. As for me, I was in complete shock, barely restraining myself from blurting out "What?!" or other similar exclamations that were swirling in my head. Sure, I suspected that Neight wasn’t an ordinary person and that something was off, but I didn’t expect such a twist.

"But don’t get me wrong," he suddenly continued, "I was completely fine with that life. The staff treated me well and took care of me. And I actually enjoyed the experiments. Through them, I learned and discovered more about the outside world."

What he was saying didn’t fit in my head. He lived in a lab? He was fine with it? He was cared for? This was coming from someone who was locked up most of the time, experimented on like a lab rat, and, from the looks of it, wasn’t even fed normal human food. I felt sorry for him; it seemed that he had never lived a normal life. Neither before the catastrophe nor after.

"But tell me," I began cautiously, "did you ever want to escape from there and, you know, start living a normal life like other people?"

"To be honest, I never really thought about it, except maybe once..." Neight hesitated meaningfully, "but, well, it doesn’t matter. I’ve already told you that I was completely fine with everything. At least until the war started..."

"And after that?" I asked carefully, waiting for him to continue.

"And then, some of us were liquidated."

No… I felt a chill run through my body. It sounded so wild to me. How could they just dispose of human lives like that?!

"The rest," Neight continued, "were put into sleep and taken off Earth. I was only awakened recently and…" He paused, perhaps finding it difficult to speak about it. "Honestly, I don’t want to recall what happened next. Is this enough for you?"

"Yes…" I replied softly. "I’m sorry, I truly am… I didn’t know you had to go through something like that…"

"There’s nothing for you to apologize for," Neight’s voice was even, as if the topic didn’t particularly bother him. However, I was struggling to process the information I had just received. So, some lab had been conducting experiments on humans. But for what purpose? The staff at that lab knew Albert’s father. What about my parents? They were colleagues with Cresswell. Did they know about these experiments? The mere thought of it made me feel deeply uneasy. I didn’t want to believe that my parents could have been involved in such things. And I was also terrified by the fact that, according to Neight, he wasn’t the only test subject.

"But what about the others? Are they still somewhere out there, and are they still… well, you know… being experimented on?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But you know what? I’m going to get my friends out of there. No matter the cost," he said this firmly and confidently. At that moment, I thought that he might help me save my loved ones too.

"And do you have a plan?" I asked hopefully.

"Only a rough one. But one step at a time. First, we need to take care of ourselves. If we die here on this planet, we definitely won’t be able to help anyone. You remember what our top priority is right now, don’t you?"

"Of course! Survival," I replied enthusiastically.

Apparently satisfied with my answer, Neight stood up, hoisted the pack onto his shoulders, and then said, "Great! Let’s move out. We’ve already delayed enough and are falling behind schedule. And you still have to cook lunch."

Damn, lunch... I already regret agreeing to that, I thought.

And though I silently lamented the unfairness of it all, I only nodded in agreement, got up, and strapped on the pack filled with blue berries. We continued moving through the wild forest, following the markers towards the ship.

----------------------------------------

The tree canopies began to sway noticeably from side to side, their leaves rustling. It felt unsettling. The sky darkened, and I could see heavy dark clouds rapidly sweeping across it, forming a strange and ominous pattern.

We emerged from the forest, and immediately some changes caught our eyes, signaling the upcoming difficulties. Ahead, the tall grasses, which usually stood upright, were swaying wildly in the wind, rustling and bending low again and again. The wind was strong for the first time. Pushing through the thick undergrowth was especially difficult this time. Plants kept falling on us, covering us from head to toe, obstructing our view, and blocking the path. The gusts of wind blowing from the side constantly threatened to blow us off the beaten path. To avoid getting separated and lost, we held hands. Neight slowly moved forward, and I followed him, resisting the wind and battling the annoying grass with my free hand.

Eventually, we made it to the ship, but we were completely exhausted. As soon as we passed through the airlock, we both collapsed on the floor in the corridor, pulling off our helmets and trying to catch our breath. And once again, Neight didn’t miss the opportunity to complain that we were totally behind schedule. Listening to his grumbling, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all. But one thing was certain—it looked like it was going to rain.