In my exhausted state, I yawned deeply, finally finishing making breakfast. Everything was pretty standard: mashed greenvegs and a little bit of softberry jam made from blue berries, which I hoped would lift Neight’s spirits. No matter how much he tried to deny it, I was sure he loved it. Could tell just by looking at his face...

What made me a little happier was that the kitchen was still in order, even after that crazy flight. Not surprising, considering everything that could possibly be screwed down was attached to the floor and walls. And we always kept the kitchen spotless, never leaving anything out of place. The same couldn’t be said for the storage room, though. It was a complete... nightmare. All the fruit we had gathered and hadn’t processed the day before was scattered and smeared everywhere. Just thinking about cleaning it up made me cringe. I could already imagine scrubbing the floors, walls, and cabinets... Ugh... Just horrible!

And meanwhile, Neight will just be lying there, resting... Not that I’m jealous, but it’s still kind of unfair… Just a little.

Mulling over the unfairness of life, I grabbed the plates of food and hesitated for a moment.

Maybe I should take this to Neight in the lab? He should be able to eat by now, right? I can check on him at the same time. Hopefully, I won’t bother him.

But before I could move, I heard slow, approaching footsteps, and then the door swung open to reveal Neight. When I saw him, I nearly dropped the plates in surprise. He was only half-dressed in his suit, with the sleeves loosely tied below his waist to keep the upper part from flapping around. His right arm was bent and pressed to his body, held in place by a plastic cast that looked like a big white mesh. Dark circles stood out under his amber eyes, and overall, he looked far from great. But despite all that, his gaze was clear.

"Hey, w-what are you doing here?" I asked, worried.

"It's breakfast time," he replied briefly in a weak voice, heading toward the table. I was kind of at a loss.

"Yeah, but you should be resting... If your treatment in the capsule is over, you should’ve gone to the cabin. I would’ve brought you something to eat."

I tried to sound as gentle as possible because I was really worried about him. It hurt to see him like that. Was it really so important for him to seem strong? Was he really willing to endure pain just to avoid showing weakness? I couldn’t quite understand what he was thinking at that moment.

"My condition isn’t that bad," he said as he carefully sat down at the table. I was about to argue, but I didn’t get the chance. He glanced at the plates I was holding, and his eyes lit up. "Is that jam?"

He’s so strange sometimes.

I smiled and just nodded, placing the plates in front of him.

"Enjoy your meal."

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

"We need to discuss our plans for today."

When Neight said that with all seriousness, I nearly choked.

Is he seriously still trying to stick to the schedule?! Though, why am I even surprised? I bet even on his deathbed, he’d still try to follow his routine...

"There’s nothing to discuss. Your plans for today and the near future should be only treatment and rest. End of story," I said as firmly as I could, hoping he wouldn’t argue with me. But judging by his calm reaction, he didn’t intend to.

"I’m all sorted out, you’re right. But what about you?"

"What about me? I just wanted to clean up a little, that’s all. I need rest too."

"Don’t waste your energy and resources on cleaning. No need to wash the dishes either—save water for now."

Reasonable. And I didn’t even think about that… I must look so dumb, I scolded myself.

"So, you’re saying I shouldn’t do anything today either? Besides cooking, of course?"

"Exactly. You don’t look great, so just rest up before tomorrow’s mission."

It was kind of upsetting to hear that. But what annoyed me even more was that, once again, he was right. I barely slept after the catastrophe, and my whole body ached as if I had spent all of yesterday hauling sacks of bricks.

"By the way, you still haven’t used the capsule, have you?" he suddenly asked, making me flinch yet again.

"No," I mumbled quietly, like a child caught misbehaving.

"You should have. You’d feel a lot better by now…"

"I feel fine!" I interrupted him immediately. Of course, it was a blatant lie, just to shut down the conversation. Naturally, I felt ashamed. But I just couldn’t force myself to get into that capsule. I just couldn’t. "And honestly, nothing really hurts. I’ll heal fast on my own, you’ll see!"

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Neight looked at me in surprise. It seemed like he had completely seen through me, but he didn’t press any further.

"As you wish," he replied shortly, making me feel a small wave of relief. "I’m going to the cabin. Thanks for the food."

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

After all the previous days, it felt so strange to just lie down and do nothing. There was nowhere I needed to go, no endless prepping to do, not even any cleaning required for the moment. But what was even stranger was that I wasn’t alone in the cabin.

I was resting on the top bunk since it would have been hard for Neight to climb up here for obvious reasons. Every now and then, I could hear him shifting below, likely trying to find a more comfortable position. Or maybe he was just in pain?

For quite some time, we lay there in silence, not saying a word, which made me feel oddly uncomfortable. Honestly, it was probably the first time we were in such a relatively informal setting, not on a mission or doing some other task together. Usually, whenever we had free time, we’d just go our separate ways: I’d head to the cabin, and he... well, presumably to the lab... I still felt guilty.

"Hey, Neight, are you asleep?" I whispered. There was a rustling sound from below.

“No.”

His voice sounded relaxed, with no tension. It didn’t have his usual coldness, his firmness. There was no commanding or dismissive tone. It was the voice of an ordinary, tired person. Just like me.

"Do you want to discuss something?" he asked bluntly, immediately shattering the impression and atmosphere that had built up, leaving me momentarily at a loss.

Incorrigible.

"Not anything specific… Just… Well…"

I was trying to find the right words, but I couldn’t finish the sentence. All I needed to say was a simple word, but the most important one: "sorry." Why is that always so hard? And the longer I hesitated, the more I felt my cheeks burning. Finally, I took a deep breath to clear my mind and calm down.

"S-sorry… I was being selfish. I took up the whole cabin while you… while you were stuck in less than ideal conditions…"

"Evie, listen, you don’t have anything to apologize for," he responded calmly and casually. "First of all, I was the one who suggested you stay in the cabin alone, remember? And second, maybe the lab isn’t the most comfortable place for you, but it’s not like that for me. We’ve lived in completely different environments, so our sense of comfort is different too. Honestly, the lab walls are more familiar to me…"

How is that even possible?! Did I make things worse by suggesting he move here?

"So, does that mean you’re uncomfortable here?" I asked, upset.

"Unfamiliar is a more fitting word. But really, don’t worry about it. I think I’ll adapt quickly."

So, he’s really staying here?

I didn’t know how to react to his words anymore. Should I be happy that he’d now live in better conditions, or upset because I’d essentially forced it on him?

Why is everything so complicated with him?

"Listen, you knew—or at least suspected—that I’d be better off in the cabin. I mean, you must have some idea of how ordinary people lived outside of lab walls, right?" As I said this, I suddenly realized I might be asking uncomfortable questions and hurriedly added, "But if you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to."

"Before the war on Earth, they ran a lot of tests on me and taught me many things, but my favorite subjects were history, psychology, and the everyday life of people," he began unexpectedly, clearly enjoying the memories. "They really told me a lot in broad strokes about how people lived outside, people like you, so I can roughly imagine what your life was like. Your family probably had a house or apartment where you all lived together. I bet you had your own personal space where you could rest. People your age usually went to school almost every day, where they could interact with each other and learn about the world, pretty much like I did in the lab. And so on."

"Amazing! I know I’ve asked you about this before, but I still can’t wrap my head around it… If you knew how people lived outside, didn’t you ever want to live that kind of life too? You know, be free and choose your own future?"

"No," he answered without hesitation. "Like I said before, I was satisfied with my life. And if I had the chance to return things to how they were, I would do so without a second thought."

I still couldn’t understand him. But there was one thing we had in common. I also wanted nothing more than to return to my old life, but I knew that was impossible.

"So, you’re saying you were happy back then?"

Neight fell silent, likely deep in thought.

"To be honest, I don't quite understand what it means to be happy, so I find it hard to answer," he finally answered, a bit confused.

So that's what's going on! His lack of emotion, restraint, and coldness... Maybe he just doesn't understand how to express other emotions! All his life, he was a lab rat who only ever followed others' orders and commands. But what about now? Is he acting of his own free will, or... And what was the purpose of all those experiments, anyway?

"Maybe I'm going to ask you an uncomfortable question... Again, if you don't want to answer, you don't have to, but... Do you know why they kept you there? What was the ultimate goal?" Truth be told, I didn't expect to get answers, but I had to ask.

"I can only guess," he said quite calmly and measuredly, surprising me once again. Was this the effect of that anesthetic gas? I couldn't find any other explanation for his talkativeness. "Most likely, so that in the future, I could perform work that other people didn't want to or couldn't do."

Of course! They were 100% making a super-soldier out of him. It all adds up. I should probably be more cautious around him... Just in case.

Despite my curiosity, I decided not to bother him with more questions. Moreover, I sensed fatigue in his voice. He spoke the last phrase so slowly and drawn out, as if he was about to fall asleep.

Better let him rest.

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

Time drags on painfully slow when you have nothing to do. Throughout the day, I must have reread my notes in the notebook five times. There really wasn't much to keep me occupied. A couple of times, I tried to chat with Neight on various topics, but he was no longer as talkative. It seemed to me that he was clearly not in the mood when he woke up at midday. Maybe he realized that he had said more than he should have?

I hope he doesn't think I deliberately took advantage of his weakness to extract secrets?

And although I tried to find excuses for myself, perhaps there was some truth to that.

Fortunately, this seemingly endless day came to an end. I was filled with nervous excitement about the upcoming mission tomorrow. After all, our lives depended on its outcome, so I couldn't afford to fail.

I can handle this... I'm sure I can! There's simply no other way...