So, hi again! I know, it has been so much. But here in Italy, school during lockdown was hell on earth, from organization to homeworks to...everything. But here i am, with a new chapter, divided in two parts!

Now, probably most of you, while reading this, will think "Is this Code Lyoko? What the hell is this dream-simulation-sequence like stuff!?". Well, the thing is that: when i was writing and creating the whole plot and characters of this fanfic, i didn't want just to do a "more of the same series". I wanted to write all this also as a more unique story. Yes there's Lyoko, XANA, the old group etc. but at the same time i want to introduce more: more psychological matter, a whole new virtual world, more characters, adding info and fan made lore...

But enough with my bullshit, here's chapter Eight! Read, Review and Rate!

19 DECEMBER, 00.35

RICHARD'S ROOM

He was neither asleep nor awake; at that moment Richard was in a kind of limbo between tiredness and being well awake, while he was thinking, as always, of everything that happened in these months, almost as if he wanted to fix them in his memory, like notes.

December had already arrived, Christmas ("because the Feast of the (False) Happiness Tax was not very effective") was definitely close, but the atmosphere and the situation were certainly not festive: at the moment, the file recovered from the NCP server, after a very difficult duel between him and a mysterious professional hacker, was only 50% decoded; that version of Hoppix, in which the file was written, was so damn complex to interpret.

And he wasn't even doing everything: Jeremy and Aelita, being computer geniuses, immediately started to give him a hand, avoiding him a handful of sleepless nights and the consequent stress. But they hadn't got that far yet.

But there was something too strange about this whole situation: in the months following the digital "duel," XANA hadn't attacked. Literally nothing, whereas before that it was a real "jackhammer of calamity".

"No use thinking about it all the time; no matter how slow, we're making it. And now to sleep, before I feel like working at night."

The list of thoughts, however, was not finished, and this continued to deprive the boy of his sleep. Especially because it was something more personal: Sylviane Cellier, better known as Syl.

Both of them were in what Richard called "the strangest human relationship I've ever had in fifteen years": it was as if there was some kind of spring between them, since they always seemed to be getting closer, but without ever getting to a point. Now, it wouldn't be possible to draw up every single moment (whether it was during a XANA attack or not) when there was progress in their relationship: either because they were days and days of events, or because they were subtle issues, but at the same time with a silent importance of their own.

But if that sort of statement, or teasing, made by Syl some time ago had been the spark, October 4th had been the fire that had begun to blaze: it was from that same day that both of them, more or less unconsciously, found themselves watching each other's back, both on Lyoko and in "normal" life, and they could say that they had developed a strong bond that had never been made explicit in words.

Richard never told anyone, but on that autumnal day he had felt a double guilt: not only because he felt himself quite as an asshole in letting a friend cry, while she was beaten the shit out of her, and reattaching the call to her face when she asked for him; but above all because he had only later discovered that Syl, despite everything, had tried to run to his rescue (while Richard was freezing in the freezer, with a burnt hand), having her back almost broken by a specter of XANA.

Richard had never felt so much considered, what's more, by someone who went so far as to sacrifice himself to save his ass from an almost certain death. He couldn't explain why Syl had gone so far, worrying so much about him, the one that put on her and all of them the burden of having to protect the world, because of him and his damn curiosity?

And the more time passed, the more Richard saw in Syl something that raised her a notch above, for example, his friendship with Edward; with Maya then he had a sort of "big brother" relationship, even if everyone in the group treated her a bit like a "Princess 2.0", just to quote Odd.

But he hadn't yet reached a point that would allow him to answer the question that had been going on for months: how could he define his relationship with Syl, and above all, what did he feel?

Faced with these constant questions, his brain decided to plunge him into an increasingly heavy sleep. Only for a very small moment he did seem to hear in the distance the echo of a door being opened. Well, maybe a student wanted to sneak downstairs and stuff like that.

SYL'S ROOM

With that shot of the pages, another book was finished: and while Syl, in the middle of the night, rests that novel (strictly psychological horror) on the bedside table next to her, a small thread of thought was unraveling in her mind:

Why, among 7 billion people on earth, had she gone to infatuate herself with Richard?

"Why, why", ... she had never liked that word since she was a child, that continuous demand for a precise, logical, or else, motive for everything, has always bothered her. But she couldn't help but look for a valid answer, listing the various moments that determined her infatuation with that specifical guy: the first time she had felt a kind of feeling for him was when, while she was one step away from being eternally disintegrated by a sea of pixels and data, was saved by Richard, who had reacted without any hesitation; which, outside of her family, she would have considered even impossible to happen.

And this had struck her so much that she gave him, as a sort of thank-you/premium, a cross between a confession and playing with him a bit, with that kiss given the next day (although it is better to say day before). Then there was October 4th, when that beating suffered by Auguste & Co. had awakened in her memories that she had long buried, as in a coffin; and Richard himself that time had shaken in her the trust placed in him. But it was also the day when, first of all, he remembered to ask forgiveness for his gesture of abandonment towards her. And already at that time, knowing how much that boy worked day and night for the team, she readily understood and forgave him.

But it was only later that Syl had learned, through a private chat with Edward, about Richard's past and how he had been abandoned by his family for a rather futile and smoky reason; the French girl recognized in him a person who had no one who cared for him, except themselves, his friends, more than his own guardians.

She had come to feel a kind of understanding, compassion, and perhaps even a kind of love-type affection, towards him, and this had led both of them to a kind of "deep friendship", even outside the struggles against XANA.

But the question remained, why had she fallen in love with Richard? And more importantly, what did he really think of her?

Mhh... knowing that he's a very direct guy...yes, I'd better ask him one day without fear; I'd prefer a no to a continuous silence, or a back and forth in which none of us decide to come forward. But now, better go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a heavy morning... Who knows who just opened the door in the hallway? Usually everyone's asleep by now...

00.48 - MAYA'S ROOM

When it is said to have a light sleep: it was enough that kind of that thud, coming from outside her bedroom door, to wake her up suddenly. With messed up hairs and dazed eyes, Maya dragged herself, almost with difficulty, towards the door, and then opened it just enough to take a look in the corridor: there was no one there and nothing seemed to have fallen to the floor or sort of.

Whether it was a dream or not, it didn't matter; Maya just wanted to go back to sleep. But in those days it was becoming more difficult, and she knew why: she felt a burden to the group.

Yes, she was so important because only she and her mother could deactivate the towers, and so she was protected by the rest of the group. But she was, in fact, protected, like a helpless child: she couldn't fight, only run away, while the others had to work hard to get her through that virtual tower, knowing that if she couldn't activate the Code Lyoko , it would be the beginning of the end. And deep down, she never asked for this burden, she just wanted to live a quiet life.

But even if they could rewind time, they couldn't do it with choices.

And perhaps sleep would ward off these thoughts. Thinking too much doesn't allow you to be lucid and choose the best option.

But still: wonder who was the student walking around the corridor at that hour...

8.32, KADICK GATE

Officer: "Very well, Mr. Poulain, we'll let you know as soon as we have any information we obtain. We'll also send you the results of the search of their rooms."

Mr. Poulain: "I see. Thank you, Officer, I rely on you."

Just as the cloudy sky was gloomy, so was the situation on that Thursday morning at the Kadick, while the siren of the police car was ringing more and more in the distance: three students disappeared into thin air, leaving no trace; and guess who it was...

Mr. Poulain was grieving, even more so than the students and the teachers; as headmaster it was his duty to protect every single boy who resided and studied under the roof of the boarding school; and moreover he had the "defect" of getting too attached to the boys, like a grandfather with his grandchildren, making him feel even worse about this tragedy. So he had brought forward the suspension of all the lessons until today; everyone was already quite tense enough without having to think about tests and various school tasks, and in any case from tomorrow the Christmas holidays would begin, and the boys would go to their families, while few of them stayed at the school.

Meanwhile, under a secluded section of the building's porch, the whole old quintet, plus Maya, was gathered.

Odd: "I think XANA has been very insistent in inviting his guests."

Maya: "I think so, too, if only it weren't-"

Jeremie: "-that there's no active tower; and this time the superscanner doesn't look faulty."

Yumi: "But it's too strange that three students disappear in the night; especially if we're talking about them; they're certainly not careless."

Aelita: "I'm also worried about something else: the police are searching their rooms, and they'll surely check their PCs and cell phones; what if they find out about Lyoko?"

Maya: "This won't be a problem; Richard told me that he found a way to keep someone from sticking his nose around."

Ulrich: "Let's hope so."

9.13, RICHARD'S ROOM

This was the strangest case he had ever worked on; not only because of the situation itself, but also because he had returned to the Kadick after so many years. He missed those corridors, the classrooms, the dormitory; even his friends, although he had been in their way for some time.

Meanwhile, Richard Allen didn't seem to be a suspicious boy: playbooks, comics... nothing illegal or unusual, in short.

That's when his transceiver began to crackle...

"Officer Dunbar, do you read me?"

"Yes, sir; have you found out anything about the girl?"

"I think so. In a drawer, under a hidden compartment, there were two items: a simple ornate letter opener... and an empty syringe."

"Hmm. Drugs, you say?"

"Who knows, no trace of any drugs have been found. Maybe these are items left by the student who was staying here last year."

"I see. In the case of the other guy, Richard, I didn't find anything unusual; now I'll take one last look at the smartphone and I'll be done here."

"Copy that."

William Dunbar connected Richard's computer to his smartphone with the USB cable, in order to access his files: again, exploring among the various folders and files, there seemed to be nothing strange, nothing that could be a clue about the disappearance of him and the other two students. However...

Wait, this file is encrypted! I may have found something interesting.

Law enforcement, and therefore William too, had recently been trained to force and open encrypted content in suspects' computers and mobile phones, a necessary skill in today's technological world; moreover, you could discover many things in people's devices, sometimes among the most bizarre ones.

Okay, that seems to have been easy! Let's see what our missing student has to hide...

As soon as he opened the folder, now decrypted, the following things happened: the screen seemed to freeze, no longer responding to any keyboard or mouse commands; then it started flashing, showing images, frames and glitches on the screen at an almost inhuman speed; finally both the mobile phone and the pc "exploded": in a sea of sparks from the devices, the circuits had burnt, becoming a pile of smoking metal pieces, completely useless and with a strong acrid smell.

"What the hell happened!?"

It was not common in police investigations to witness computers "magically" blowing up after clicking on a folder; the story became more and more complicated: who could have kidnapped any three students, and why? Also, what the hell was in that encrypted file?

"Sir, are you receiving me? This is still Agent Dunbar: I had just found an encrypted file in the boy's phone, but when I tried to access it both the smartphone and the computer "burst" and now everything is burned. This is getting weirder and weirder. "

"Copy that. I'll ask to take the devices away and we'll see if we can salvage anything; I'll give you the night off for today."
"Thank you, Sir, out."

William then decided to leave the building immediately and get into his car. Ironically, neither the group of old acquaintances nor himself had seen each other during the search.

With the accelerator set in motion and beginning to head towards the police station to leave the car, William thought how chaotic these months had been, starting in October: in addition to the mysterious figure linked to terrorism, who had fled the Czech Republic and is currently wanted, another fact, this time much more macabre, had occurred at the end of that month, now far away; and not in France, but in America: two spouses had been massacred in the most unusual way, that is, by an armoured military vehicle which, with its machine gun, had opened fire on the house, killing both husband and wife. But there could not have been any driver arrested for the terrible act, since the driver had committed suicide just before the police and SWAT arrived. William also remembered that the poor men had a daughter, now adopted who knows where.

And today three students, in the same boarding school where he had been possessed by an artificial intelligence gone mad for quite some time, had disappeared, (almost) without any trace.

But XANA couldn't have come back, could he? Yes, in these months he had had some dejavu, but surely it was only an impression: his work was stressful of his own, and let's face it, you can't blame XANA for all the crimes and strange events; the world is full of them.

Isn't it?

FIRST UNKNOWN PLACE

As he regained consciousness he felt his face glued to a rough, woody material, but the air was still cool. His body, however, had a strange sensation, as if only half of it was there, with half the nerves gone.

Edward, realizing that he had woken up, rose up from the floor. If this was a dream, then it was quite strange: he was in a kind of house made entirely of creaking wood, completely empty, without any furniture, and with dirty old windows.

The only object in the room was a... a Polish sabre? It didn't seem to make any sense, yet there it was, without its sheath, shiny and brand new looking.

But... what kind of dream is this?

He tried to perform the litmus test: slapping himself on the cheek and see if he had woken up in his room at Kadick. Nothing: and the strangest thing was that he soon realized that all of his physical sensations were too accurate to be the fruit of his imagination. He realized that this was not just a dream, but he couldn't say for sure if it was a real place.

No... no! How did I end up here!?

Panic was pumping through his veins like a dose of heroin: he had to do something, starting to understand this crazy situation a little bit better. Step one: check for other people.

"Richard! Maya! Syl! Are you there!? Is anybody here!? There was a kind of response: the usual creaking of the wood, which confirmed Edward's loneliness in that place. He was alone, frightened, without his friends, in a place so remote that as far as he was concerned he could be at the edge of creation.

Edward had been paralyzed in the human terror of loneliness, but he also took a moment of courage: perhaps he would have had a clearer picture of the situation as he went out, not that he could do anything else inside that hovel. Without thinking, his instinct as a hema fencer led him to pick up that Polish sabre from the floor, its handle icy to the touch, but comfortable in the shape. As soon as he lifted the weapon off the floor, he noticed a hint of movement on one of the four walls of the room: a door seemed to have appeared just as Edward had picked up the sword; he had not noticed that the door was not there before, or rather, he had taken it for granted.

Slowly, and with the sword in his hand, pointing forward, Edward opened the squeaky wooden door: the outside light, stronger, blinded him for a few seconds, but as soon as he regained his sight he took a couple of steps beyond the threshold, admiring the place where he was now: an endless moor, which seemed to continue beyond the horizon, as the sun began to set, painting the sky red and orange.

Edward: "...where am I?"

"Where you will make a choice!"

The boy's head turned with a snap towards the origin of that thundering, yet fake, voice: it was a dark and imposing figure, whose face was concealed by a black mask, without any shape or squiggle to outline its features. He was dressed like an Eastern European nobleman of 1500, but he wore a cape over his shoulder, with a coat of arms embroidered on it, which, although stylized and geometric, instead of round, Edward had immediately recognized: the eye of XANA.

Edward: "XANA! Where have you taken me and what have you done to everyone else!"

Figure: "Partially wrong! I am also a part of you, my boy: a fear of you."

The figure slowly raised a gloved hand, turning its palm towards Edward; the latter immediately found himself with blurred eyesight and his ears whistling: within himself he could perceive something... they were his friends: he couldn't see them or hear them, but he had a sure feeling, safer than his own being alive, that they were in danger, in a place he couldn't reach.

As soon as he regained control of his senses, Edward was tearful and furious; the knuckles of his right hand, as he held his saber so tightly, had turned white.

Edward: "Damn you, what are you up to!? Let them go at once!"

Figure: "Only if you succeed. I challenge you to a duel: if you win you can save two of them, but one will die; if you lose one chosen by me will survive, and the others will die. Or you can retire, but only you will survive."

Edward: "What kind of rules are these!? Somebody's gonna die anyway!"

Figure: "Everything has a price, my boy, and deep down you know it: heroism is paid for. Do you accept the challenge?"

It was the worst dilemma of his life, but Edward didn't want to believe it in any way: No, it had to be a trick, there was the answer somewhere, and it wasn't running away that he would find it.

I musn't run away... I mustn't run away!

Edward: "All right XANA, I accept the challenge!"

Figure: "You fool, you just won't accept me as part of you..."

The two fighters stood at a distance, the tips of their blades almost on the point of meeting.

CENTRAL SEWERAGE MANAGEMENT SYSTEM

Gilbert Mallet always wanted to be anywhere else, rather than having to deal with people's shit: as a child he was the classic spoiled daddy boy, and he was sure that life would be radiant for him only. Too bad that his daddy found himself in such serious economic troubles that the family plunged into poverty, forcing Gilbert, after some very bad studies, to fall back on a job like this; okay, actually he didn't worked in the sewers directly; he helped in the management of the control units, getting access to various control rooms. But the thought of working for the sewer system made him nauseous. The fact is, however, that you have to make a living.

At that exact moment he had just finished his first shift, and he really felt the need to use the bathroom: he opened the door of the squalid place, and after using the toilet, he went to the sink to wash himself: only when he opened the tap, the water that came out of it was completely black: then, so fast that Gilbert could not even realize the situation, it became a substance that went all the way up his arm, up to his face, and then into his nose, mouth and eyes, shaking him like he was on shock.

He fell to the ground like a stone dead, only to regain consciousness after a few seconds.

Looking in the mirror, XANA admired the newly possessed body - an identity that would allow him to make one last attack before focusing all his attention far away from Lyoko. Or France.

SECOND UNKNOWN PLACE

She woke up from the bed, soaked in sweat: it was as if she was sleeping peacefully, until her brain had registered a kind of shock; it had been a strange sensation, as if she had felt something change in her surroundings.

Syl immediately got out of bed, alarmed, only to notice in a couple of seconds that she had gone to bed fully dressed; she couldn't remember this particular detail. At that moment her only thought was that she had woken up by chance, while someone in the corridor had made ruckus again. She then approached the window overlooking the park and opened it, so that she could get some air. But there was something wrong with the sky: the stars had literally disappeared, and there was New Moon, facing the unlit side.

But it wasn't cloudy, so the sky was actually empty, vacant; the light was provided only by electric lamps and street lamps fixed in the concrete of the streets.

Wait a minute... something doesn't feel right; but I mustn't panic, I'm going to go out the door and wake up Maya. It's probably an hallucination of my own, a dream... or at least I hope that...

Slowly and quietly she opened the bedroom door and went out into the women's dormitory corridor; the lights, of course, were off and there was a smell of desolation in the air, as if Syl had been in an abandoned place for a long time. Needless to say, she didn't like the feeling at all.

At a sneaky pace she went toward Maya's bedroom door, knocking lightly with one knuckle; but as soon as she touched the door, it opened by itself, slowly and squeakily... showing that the room was empty: not even a trace of Maya, the bed tidy as if it had never been used, the bare desks, the bare walls, without any poster or shelf. The only thing noteworthy that was present in the room was... a flashlight left on the floor.

No...no: let's use the logic. It's just a lucid dream... even though it feels too real... Let's try to find Richard... I should be able to wake him up ...

She took the flashlight off the floor, her hand slightly shaking, which showed a certain nervousness in the girl's soul: there was something wrong inthis place, and deep down she wanted to look for Richard, in the men's dormitory, because she was, deep down, afraid that he had disappeared too.

As she left the room, she was halfway between the center of the corridor and the exit door leading to the stairs, when she noticed two other disturbing details: the first, the most (relatively) quiet one, was that all the doors of the rooms were open, and inside they were as empty as Maya's. They were all gone.

The most disturbing detail was a very faint hissing sound behind her; it was not a wind blow, but more like ...a breath. She turned her head and looked down the end of the women's dormitory hallway... finding a completely "black as pitch" wall, without any light, even when the girl pointed her torch at that exact spot, which seemed to overlap the proper wall at the end of the corridor. It looked like something that shouldn't have been there, something alien. Staring at that sort of black spot, without taking any steps that would bring her too close, Syl realized that she had a terrifying feeling: she felt observed by that strange shadow.

"And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you..."

STREETS OF PARIS

Bye-bye rest: at the very moment that the police station was practically at short distance away from him, William's radio began, again, to crackle. And that meant more work.

"Officer Dunbar here, what's going on?"

"To all the cars in the area: an employee in the sewerage plant has started attacking the staff; we fear that there may be injured, or that he wants to tamper with the sewer system. He appears to be dangerous, so be cautious, and in self-defense you may open fire."

"Roger, sir, out."

At that moment, four other cars left the police station on their way to the sewerage plant, and William joined them. The only good thing about this was that it was a more... adrenaline-fuelled operation.

ABANDONED FACTORY, LABORATORY

Jeremy: "Oh no, no, NO! This is a disaster!"

The quintet plus Maya had unanimously decided to control the supercomputer: if the superscanner on Jeremy's laptop or Maya's cell phone wasn't working, maybe it was XANA's fault; maybe he was able to bypass those radars? Apparently it was so.

Odd: "So, did you find out where our three lost children have gone?"

Jeremy: "Yes, and unfortunately the situation is disastrous!"

Maya: "What do you mean daddy!?"; inside her head fear and panic began to spread, while her heart was beating at a fast pace.

Jeremy: "XANA kidnapped and virtualized them into a simulation bubble on the net! They're living in a world that looks real, but it's all fake; it's not the first time he's used this trick!" And Aelita remembered it well: in one of these simulation bubbles she thought she had met her father again, but that time too it was the usual XANA's trick.

Ulrich "Well, it doesn't seem so bad. Let's deactivate the tower and set them free, right?"

Jeremy: "No, the situation is far worse! Look at this: I'm monitoring their vital pulses, and they're slowly dropping! And all of this while 2 towers are activated! Simply put, we've got to hurry or... or they'll die of brain death."

If fear was a person, at that moment it was choking Maya more than anyone else: it wasn't the usual mission to deactivate a tower: here their life was even more at stake. The paranoia and terror of not making it was clouding her mind, in a look that showed the full meaning of the word terror.

Yumi: "How do we split up, then!?"

Jeremy: "Ulrich, you must take Aelita to the active tower in the Forest sector; Yumi, Odd, protect Maya and deactivate the tower in the Mountain sector! And please, hurry as fast as you can!"

Ulrich: "Don't worry Jeremy, we'll get them out even before XANA could say "Lyoko"! "

They didn't even have time to use the elevator, opting directly for the stairs.

TRANSFER

SCANNER

VIRTUALIZATION

WRECKED PHONE BOX, UNKNOWN PARIS STREET

It was not the best way to end his sleep: just opening his eyes and raising his head a little bit had generated a strong painful twinge that started from head to toe, and once the brief moment of hell passed he felt a strong pulse in the left side of his chest, as if someone had made a deep, but sharper cut.

Richard's eyes, as they regained their sight, saw the place where he found himself: an abandoned telephone booth, with broken glass, a telephone without a handset, and a rusty steel frame, while his body was as if it had been thrown there like a sack of potatoes.

Moving his left hand on the ground, groping, attempting to get up, he felt a minor twinge on his back: he had bumped his hand against a sharp piece of glass. Richard did not even have the strength to swear as he got up and realized other details that were all too strange: he felt dried blood on his right temple, his clothes were broken down and worn out, and, above all, the right pocket of his jacket was pierced and burned, as if someone had put a cigar on it; moreover, the contents inside it was quite heavy.

I woke up in a smashed telephone booth, among shards of glass, and with a burnt jacket pocket... it's a dream; it's the only explanation that comes to mind.

But a voice in his head convinced him otherwise in a very short time; it was strange, he felt that so separate from his thoughts, but it was as if it was the voice of that friend with whom you instantly agree, as soon as he opens his mouth.

Don't bullshit me: if you knew you were in a dream, that would be a lucid one, so you'd be in full control, which you're not. Deep down you know that everything you're seeing and feeling, even that cut, is real. Oh right, check out what's in that pocket...

Richard didn't even think about it for three seconds: while listening to that voice in his head, which strangely had the same timbre as his own, he went through the hole in the pocket, pulling out a deformed metal object: looking at it better he realized that it was a kind of photo pendant, made of silver and octagonal shaped, and the engraving on it had been erased by a bullet, which had literally squashed on the pendant, blocking the fatal blow.

No, wait. Since when do I carry pendants in my pocket?! And...no...I've been shot!?

And it was at that very moment that, while Richard had grazed the spot hit by the bullet with his thumb, his vision became blurred; and that's when the whole situation changed.

His sight was that of a person lying on his right side, on what was a hard, rough floor. The pain on the left side of his chest was even stronger, but he couldn't do anything: he couldn't get up, couldn't talk, nothing, he could only look at a kind of room with walls all blurred and indistinguishable, as if they were made of smoke.

Little by little, however, Richard's sight was occupied by the most terrifying spectacle he had ever seen in reality (in which he was now convinced he was): two bodies were lying on the ground, immersed in a pool of blood, also them were blurred; but they were also strangely familiar, as if the appearance, build and clothes had already seen them somewhere...

But then he heard a burst ringing so loud in his ears that it was as if he were in a chamber made entirely of steel; it sounded like a revolver shot, and a large caliber.

And on the ground fell, a few inches away from him, a figure that he could not confuse; those clothes, those hairs that partially covered that face, those eyes...

Syl had just fallen in front of him as a pool of blood began to drip from his chest. She'd just been shot. The bright color of her crimson blood, in contrast to her darker clothes and her hair, created a terrifying, but in a sick, twisted way, beautiful vision. And her intact face, despite the fatal blow, had not lost its charm...

Richard could do nothing: it was all so shocking that he could not even exhale a mental cry: he could just but observe, motionless, the one who had always cared for him, die. However, she didn't exhale her last breath at once, because her hand slowly crawled towards Richard's, until she held it with the few forces that remained in her body: despite the pain, Syl's face managed to sketch a smile; a smile full of pure love, addressed only to Richard, who could not bear the sight: seeing someone die was already a lot, but Syl, who used her last breaths to give him that little bit of love left... no, it was too much to bear.

And Syl exhaled her last breath with a word, barely whispered: she hadn't heard it, but Richard was sure that he had read Syl's lips correctly.

"Live."

And her eyes closed.

That bleak, sad picture of death disappeared from the boy's sight, only to be replaced by two figures in the distance: both were dressed in a pastel white suit, and armed with revolvers; but while one was literally bald and with a face all too anonymous, the other remained imprinted on Richard's mind: short, carefully combed hair, goatee, and a face with a devilish grin; a face that showed no hesitation or remorse in killing four boys only 14-15 years old.

Both of them, as the guns smoked, began a brief dialogue, their voices with a loud Russian accent echoing in Richard's head:

"Don't you think that was excessive? I mean, they were just kids." began the man with the anonymous face.

"They were kids who stuck their noses in the worst place they could do it; I feel sorry for you, but that's also our job. Let's forget about it anyway."

"What do we do with the bodies?"

"We'll throw them away; for example: the guy in the airman's jacket you can throw him in a smashed phone booth nearby; he was the one who gave me the most trouble, the little bastard. We can throw the rest of them directly into the river."

"Copy that, boss."

"Oh yeah, you gotta bring me back that 10 pounds of heroin; remember the address?"

"23 Rue Parchappe, near the garage; I remember it."

"Good; and please avoid playing with guns like you usually do; that Saiga-12 better stay in the trunk."

"Easy, boss, easy."

And Richard went back, out of that memory that had just been relived, next to that smashed phone booth, the pendant in his hand and his body shaking. They were all dead, there was no illusion for him: Edward was dead, Maya was dead.

Syl was dead. And with her, at that moment, Richard's soul was dead.

In all this he had not noticed until now that the pendant had opened, showing in its socket a little bent piece of paper, strangely untouched by the bullet; Richard, with a glassy look, took it and unfolded it, his hands trembling.

I'll be honest, I didn't know what to give you, so I tried to find something to remind you of me; it's a Cthulhu pendant, a bit obvious on my part, but at least it will be easy to remember me; and then inside it I wanted to put a picture of the two of us, it seemed the most symbolic; but if you want to replace it with something more "intriguing" just ask, hihi!

I love you Richard

Syl

And with that last sentence, Richard's brain shut down. The reason, the sadness, the desire to scream; everything had been erased, formatted like a hard disk and replaced by only two things, which were repeated in his head, non-stop, obsessively.

The image of Syl, immersed in her crimson blood.

And the address 23 Rue Parchappe.

He'd have a lot to do there.