Kai Langford -December 2120
We make our way down the corridor toward the abandoned side of the building, the part of Trinity everyone pretends no longer exists. The lights flicker overhead in tired bursts, painting the walls in pale gold before plunging them back into shadow.
Monica pushes open the door to one of the old classrooms and slips inside first. Gerald follows after her while I close the door quietly behind us.
Dust hangs in the air untouched. Broken desks sit scattered around the room like corpses left where they fell.
The second the latch clicks shut, Monica speaks.
"We found him. Alive."
I lean against one of the desks. It groans beneath my weight, wood scraping sharply against the floor.
"Where is he?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
"He's hiding in some house outside the city," Gerald says. "Looks like he's alone too."
Monica lets out a short laugh.
"I guess poor Christopher doesn't have many friends left now that GeneX knows he betrayed them and especially now that all his little counterfeit projects got wiped out."
Christopher Oswald.
When Ray told us he killed him, but I never fully believed it. Ray abandoned Trinity, sure, but murder in cold blood? That never sounded like him.
So the moment I woke up, I asked Monica and Gerald to investigate quietly. They complained about it, especially Monica, but I knew they'd get results. They always do.
If Oswald was alive, then I would be the one to finish it.
"What's the plan now?" Gerald asks.
"I will make sure he never becomes a problem again" I reply.
Monica sighs dramatically and leans back against the wall, crossing her arms.
"Are you sure that's smart?" she says. "Your shadow situation still isn't exactly stable."
"I'll handle it."
The words come out sharper than intended.
Ever since I started training again, things have improved. My body feels quicker. Stronger. Like something inside me finally woke back up.
But sometimes the shadows still move when I don't tell them to. When my focus slips, they react on instinct instead of command.
"Right," Monica mutters. "Because that's reassuring."
Gerald glances between us before speaking again.
"When do we leave?"
For a moment, I consider going alone. It would be easier that way. But Monica and Gerald are reliable, and if things go wrong… they'll do what needs to be done. Even if I can't.
"Tonight, I say, pushing myself away from the desk.
Monica groans loudly.
"You're kidding. It's Christmas."
"Exactly," I reply. "Everyone will be too distracted celebrating. Plus, Oswald won't expect anyone to come after him tonight. Plus we can't risk him staying alive any longer than he has. He knows where Trinity is"
Gerald nods once in agreement while Monica reluctantly throws her hands up in surrender.
"Fine. Whatever."
Then her expression shifts into something smug.
"And what about lover boy?"
Ethan.
That part is complicated.
Ever since I woke up, he's barely let me out of his sight. He notices everything now. Every missing glance, every hesitation, every slight change in the way I breathe.
If I try to leave normally, he'll know before I even reach the front doors.
I exhale slowly.
"Leave Ethan to me," I say. "Just meet me at the entrance later."
_________________________
I make my way back toward the canteen, rubbing my cold hands together as I push open the door.
The room is quieter now.
Most of the younger kids have disappeared outside, and through the large windows I can see them racing through the snow with new toys clutched in their hands while some of the adults try and fail to supervise them properly. Laughter carries faintly through the glass.
For a second, I just stand there watching.
Then Ethan notices me immediately.
Of course he does.
It doesn't matter how crowded a room is or what he's doing. Somehow, he always notices the moment I walk in, like part of him is constantly search the future for me to arrive without even realising it.
The thought makes my chest tighten awkwardly.
"Hey," Ethan says brightly, lifting a hand toward me.
"Hi," I reply quietly as I walk over. My fingers brush across his back before I sit down beside him.
Noah studies me for about half a second before speaking.
"What was that about?"
Straight to the point. Typical Noah.
"They just felt uncomfortable," I say. "You know… since it's our first Christmas in a long time and all that."
The lie leaves my mouth smoother than expected.
I thought it was believable enough to stop further questions. Instead, all three of them go strangely quiet.
I glance between them.
"What?" I ask, shifting slightly in my chair.
Did they not believe me?
For a moment, nobody says anything. Then suddenly Ethan bolts upright so fast his chair nearly tips over.
"Oh my God."
I blink at him.
"I didn't even think about that."
Before I can react, he grabs my face between his hands, squishing my cheeks together painfully.
"You haven't had a proper Christmas in years," he says, horrified at himself.
"Uh… yeah?" I mumble through crushed cheeks.
His expression immediately softens into something devastatingly affectionate.
Then he pulls me against his chest without warning, wrapping both arms tightly around me as he sways us side to side dramatically.
"Then we're making this your best Christmas ever."
I stare blankly over toward Noah and Finn for help, but neither of them save me.
Finn looks suspiciously amused while Noah gives a small nod like Ethan's just proposed a perfectly logical scientific solution.
A knot of guilt twists heavily in my stomach.
I only meant for the lie to buy me a few hours.
Now Ethan's looking at me like he wants to rebuild every lost holiday I've ever had with his bare hands, and somehow that feels worse.
____________________
The rest of the evening spirals completely out of control after that.
Not in a dangerous way, but an a loud Ethan way.
At some point, someone drags speakers into the canteen. The younger kids start throwing wrapping paper at each other like it's a battlefield while Christmas music echoes through the room far too loudly. Someone burns half the biscuits. Someone else starts a snowball fight through an open window and immediately regrets it.
For the first time in a long while, Trinity almost feels normal.
Almost.
I sit beside Ethan while people move around us in messy waves of noise and laughter. His shoulder presses against mine constantly, warm and grounding.
Every few minutes he glances at me like he's checking I haven't ran away.
Sneaking out of here is going to be a lot harder than I thought.
"You're thinking too hard again" he says suddenly.
"I'm literally sitting here."
"Yeah, but emotionally you look like you're standing on a rooftop in the rain."
I stare at him.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means this face." He pokes between my eyebrows. "That's your existential crisis face."
Finn snorts into his drink from across the table.
"He's not wrong," he says.
Noah barely looks up from where he's examining one of the cheap Christmas cracker toys with scientific seriousness.
"Your expression shifts downward by approximately twelve percent when you're overthinking."
"How do you even measure that?" I ask.
"I estimated."
"That somehow makes it worse."
Ethan laughs loudly before throwing an arm around my shoulders again.
More alcohol starts appearing not long after that.
Somebody sneaks bottles into the canteen from one of the storage cupboards, and suddenly the night gets progressively more chaotic.
Finn drinks slowly, but steadily enough that the sharp edge of his composure softens. Noah claims alcohol has "minimal impact" on him right before losing an argument with a paper snowflake for five straight minutes as one of the kids bet him he couldn't do it.
And Ethan?
Ethan becomes aggressively affectionate.
"You know," he says, pointing dramatically at me with a cup in hand, "you're very pretty."
I nearly choke on absolutely nothing.
Finn immediately looks away to hide a smile while Noah watches with detached fascination, like he's observing a rare behavioural phenomenon in the wild.
"You're drunk," I mutter.
"No, you're the drunk one here."
"If you say so"
"Yep... I do" Ethan says cheerfully before leaning halfway across me to steal another drink.
I pretend to sip from my own cup while nobody pays attention. The liquid barely touches my mouth before I set it back down again.
I can't afford to lose focus tonight.
Not even slightly.
Not with what's waiting for me after midnight.
Still, I keep up appearances. I raise the cup when everyone else does. I fake small sips. I laugh quietly at the right moments.
And somehow that almost makes things worse.
Because for a little while, sitting there between Ethan and Noah while Finn argues with Monica across the room about whether Die Hard counts as a Christmas movie, it feels painfully easy to forget why I planned to leave at all.
The warmth of the room settles into my chest like something dangerous.
Something soft.
Ethan eventually ends up half draped over me, thoroughly drunk and entirely unaware of personal space.
"You smell nice," he mumbles into my shoulder.
"You said that ten minutes ago."
"I meant it emotionally this time."
I close my eyes briefly.
Across the table, Finn quietly raises his glass toward me in silent sympathy.
Noah watches Ethan for another second before speaking with complete seriousness.
"I believe he's reached the stage where his cognitive processing has become significantly impaired."
Ethan lifts his head immediately.
"Whatever you just said. It's not true"
Noah considers this.
"I very much doubt that"
Finn bursts out laughing hard enough to nearly spill his drink while Ethan gasps in betrayal.
And despite everything waiting outside these walls tonight, despite the shadows twisting restlessly beneath my skin, despite the lie sitting heavy in my chest...
I laugh too.
Just for a moment, the sound escapes before I can stop it and Ethan immediately lights up like he's won something priceless.
Ethan nearly falls out of his chair trying to reach for his drink again.
I catch him before he can hit the floor, one arm wrapping around his waist as he stumbles directly into me with a tired laugh.
"There you are" he mumbles like he's only just realised I exist again.
"You're drunk," I say quietly, steadying him.
"Nuh uh."
"You tried to drink melted candle wax ten minutes ago."
His face twists in concentration.
"…that explains a lot actually."
A small laugh escapes Finn from across the table.
"I think that's our cue to end the night," he says, pushing himself to his feet.
I shift Ethan carefully onto my back, hooking my arms beneath his legs as he immediately melts against me bonelessly. His chin drops onto my shoulder, warm breath brushing against my neck.
"You're comfy," he murmurs.
"You say that every time you're tired."
"Because it's true every time."
I ignore the way my chest tightens at that.
Across the room, Noah looks seconds away from passing out sitting upright. His eyes are half closed behind the glassy exhaustion alcohol has finally dragged out of him.
Finn notices too.
"Right," he says, nudging Noah lightly with his elbow. "Time for you to shut down before your brain explodes."
"My brain is functioning adequately," Noah says immediately before almost nodding face-first into the table.
Finn catches him with practiced ease.
"Very convincing."
I shake my head slightly.
"Night," I say as I start toward the exit with Ethan clinging to me like an oversized blanket.
A chorus of tired goodnights follows behind me.
The canteen has mostly emptied now, leaving behind abandoned cups, torn wrapping paper, and the lingering warmth of laughter still trapped in the walls. Christmas lights blink lazily overhead in mismatched colours.
As I near the door, I notice Monica and Gerald standing near one of the windows overlooking the snow-covered courtyard.
Waiting.
Monica's arms are folded while Gerald watches the hallway carefully. The second their eyes meet mine, the atmosphere shifts.
I give the smallest nod.
Tonight.
Both of them understand immediately.
Gerald straightens subtly while Monica's expression hardens beneath her usual sarcasm.
Then I'm moving again before Ethan can notice the tension in my body.
The corridors are quieter now. Most people have gone to bed or fallen asleep wherever they ended up after the celebrations. The distant sound of wind rattles softly against the old windows of Trinity.
Ethan shifts slightly against my back.
"Did I tell you that your so pretty" he mutters sleepily into my shoulder.
"You already said that."
"Still true."
I bite back a smile despite myself.
By the time we reach the bedroom, Ethan is barely awake.
I lower him carefully onto the bed, making sure he doesn't hit the wall with his head like last time. He lets out a tired noise of protest the second I pull away.
"Stay" he mumbles.
"I'm right here."
I pull the blankets over him properly, tucking them around his shoulders while snowlight spills dimly through the curtains, painting silver across the room.
For a moment, I just look at him.
At the softness alcohol and exhaustion have pulled from his expression. At how safe he looks here.
It makes the guilt twist deeper. But this is why I have to go. To keep him safe.
I lean down and press a kiss against his forehead.
The second I move back, his hand catches around my wrist weakly.
"Where're you going?" he asks, words slurred together with sleep.
I freeze.
Even half unconscious, he notices.
Slowly, I kneel beside the bed and brush lights curls away from his face. His eyes struggle to stay open, heavy and unfocused beneath the dim light.
"I'm just getting some fresh air" I lie softly.
The words feel heavier than they should.
Ethan studies me for a long moment like some small part of him senses something wrong beneath the surface.
Then exhaustion wins.
"Okay…" he murmurs quietly. "Don't be long."
My chest aches unexpectedly.
"I won't" I whisper.
His fingers slowly loosen around my wrist as sleep finally drags him under completely.
I stay there for another second longer than I should.
Then I lean forward, kissing his forehead one last time before standing.
The shadows beneath my feet stir instinctively as I move toward the door, spreading thinly across the floorboards to soften each footstep into silence.
The room darkens around the edges as if the shadows themselves are helping me leave.
And somehow that unsettles me more than anything else tonight.