- He probably didn't hurt himself... much. - Charles muttered, leaning over the boy and critically inspecting his head for any alarming signs. - Does he faint often?
- No idea. - she grumbled, staring at the blond's fluttering eyelids with a grimace. She only looked up when she felt Moreau's hand on her shoulder.
- Hey, calm down. He should wake up soon.
- I am calm. - she snorted harshly, irritated, pushing away from him. Nothing got on her nerves as much as that word, especially in the context of the events that had just unfolded, events he had caused.
- It's probably nothing. - he continued undeterred, as if trying to convince himself that everything was fine. It wasn't, but neither of them could predict this part of the encounter. - Let's move him.
Without a word, she helped him shift Odd onto the bed, which, no matter how dirty and dusty, was surely better than the hard floor. She took a moment to observe the fair-haired boy's chest rising and falling at a leisurely pace.
She stood there, staring at him, unable to force herself to think rationally.
What do you do with unconscious people? She had surely seen and heard a million times what to do in such a situation, so why was her mind blank? Was he breathing too slowly? Was his face always this pale? Or maybe something hurt him, and she didn't notice earlier? Maybe—
- I need to call. - she blurted out; she wouldn't calm down until she knew everything was okay in Lyoko.
The last time Odd fainted, XANA intercepted one of the girls' codes. She remembered it perfectly because it was the day she became a Lyoko warrior part-time. She wanted to believe it was just a coincidence, after all, XANA had attacked just yesterday, and there was no indication that anything was wrong with the warrior before he hit the floor. Still, her intuition whispered the worst to her.
Although specters preferred codes, she had experienced several times that she was just as tempting a target, and this time she wouldn't have anyone to help her in case of a possible attack. And even if it wasn't the work of a virus, another scenario was not better.
Young, healthy people didn't faint for no reason.
- Fucking signal. - she growled, seeing a tiny cross in the upper right corner of the phone, then looked back at Odd, who held her attention like a magnet. It was some sick joke. In one moment, he could invite her on a date, and in the next, argue with her friend, who suddenly went completely off, and now this.
God, it was so frustrating.
- If it's not a doctor, he won't be of much use anyway. - the boy's words were like a spark reigniting her anger. He tried to calm her down, but at this moment, he was the last person entitled to do so.
- So you'd rather call an ambulance? - she snapped venomously, with clear sarcasm in her voice and a gaze that could kill.
She saw guilt in the way he twisted his lips and averted his eyes, but she didn't care. Not when he was the reason why the blond wanted to leave them (her), in the first place. He should know how angry she was.
And he did. And he regretted.
- I'm just trying to help.
- Just like you helped me a while ago by insulting him for no reason? - she spat out, desperately holding onto the shreds of anger in her chest before it disappeared, leaving only tears behind. - You never acted like this before!
He looked at her with that painful glint in his eye that had always shattered all her resolutions to be consistent when the blame wasn't entirely on his side. The problem in arguments with Charles had always been her temperament; when convinced of her righteousness, she could be unbearably stubborn and decidedly too talkative. When she was younger, she often didn't stop talking until the other person agreed with her, for the sake of peace.
So it was easiest to catch her lying when she was silent, and they both knew it. When Charlie really wanted to sting her, he used that knowledge, like a few minutes ago when she didn't roll out all the arguments supporting Odd because she couldn't tell him the truth. He just knew her too well, and she couldn't effectively divert his attention elsewhere. Might as well try to convince him that the sky is green and the grass is blue.
- You've never lied to me before.
- Why are you fixating on this?! Did it ever occur to you that maybe you just picked on him, and you're making up problems?
- You wouldn't ditch me for some random guy if you didn't have a reason, and don't tell me it's love.
They both grimaced at the word 'love,' as if the idea of her feeling anything like this was absurd.
- You wanted me to make friends. And now that I really like someone, you have a problem with me?
- Of course, I wanted, and I still want! But since you started seeing him, you seem so... - he clenched his lips, trying to find the right words to express his concerns, but none seemed appropriate. - Nervous? Scared? I don't know!
- Why do you think that?
- Every time, you obediently run after him! One call, and you're gone, not answering me for hours, and-
- Charles, god damn it, I did it once or twice! It's normal not to answer you if I'm really having a good time with that idiot! - she nodded towards the blond, and for once, it wasn't a lie.
The brunet crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows.
- Stop it. I know something's wrong. If you have any troubles, you can tell me.
- I don't have any problems! And if I wanted to talk to you, I damn well would!
A moment of silence and one look in his direction was enough for her to reflect and get irritated simultaneously. She loved this man, despite his flaws, and sensitivity was the biggest one. She hated the fact that even though he had known her all his life, he still worried about her so much; probably for the same reason, she couldn't get used to it. She didn't like being in the center of his attention in this way; after all, he was her friend, not her father.
- Of course. - he nodded, lowering his gaze. - I'm sorry.
And again, that damn frustration filling her chest and the biting sense of guilt.
You should answer the message, Alex; he always answers.
It's his birthday on Friday, Alex. Remember that 2137 days ago, you said you'd go for ice cream with him to that cool café. Never mind that you don't have money right now.
You promised to go to the party with him on Friday. Never mind that you lost interest because the new school turned out to be much more demanding than your old high school.
His parents asked when you'll drop by. Mrs. Moreau made rice with chicken again for you; you should probably come.
She believed in the principle of favor for favor, but no matter how hard she tried, Charles always did more.
She didn't celebrate dates. He always bought her something for holidays, even if she asked him not to.
She wasn't reliable, even though she tried on really important occasions. He could remember even the silliest promises she had long forgotten.
She wasn't always honest because sometimes she simply couldn't be.
Family was never the most important thing for her; she hated her sister, her brother lost interest in her, and she still had many grievances against her parents. Completely different from the Moreau family, where brothers kept in constant contact, and parents supported their children and weren't afraid to talk to them.
She loved him, and in her own way, she cared for him, and he knew it. He never intentionally made her feel inferior; it was more a matter of their different approaches to the world that sometimes made it all just too much.
- Listen. - she began, her voice trembling with emotions that scratched at her eyes and tightened her throat. She wouldn't cry, wouldn't apologize. She had the right to secrets, even ones like this. It wasn't her fault. - Let's just drop it and take care of the sleeping beauty, okay? - he didn't respond, and she didn't want to look at him. - I'm going to catch the signal.
A sudden bang stopped her halfway.
She froze, listening to the sounds of the front door slamming, then the creaking of the floor under someone's footsteps. The intruder moved quickly and somewhat chaotically, as if not entirely decided on where to go, and with each step, her pulse quickened. A second later, they heard a loud clink of falling glass, then a hiss, and another blow and a series of muffled groans.
Again steps; Alex looked at Charles in horror as they both realized that someone was coming up the stairs. Someone was here, someone was heading their way. They had nowhere to hide, not to mention escaping, unless without Della Robbia.
Immediately afterward, the intruder suddenly accelerated, burst into the room, and collided with her, ripping embarrassingly loud screams from their throats. Only a few seconds later did she realize who she was really looking at.
- Aelita?!
The girl hissed softly, rubbing her shoulder with a grimace where she hit the door.
- Alex?! - she mumbled, squinting her eyes. - What are you doing here?
- Odd brought us here. - she replied in one breath.
And well, it wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't entirely a lie either.
- Us?
- Me and Charlie.
For a brief moment, neither of them could catch their breath, scanning each other with wide-open eyes, a mix of confusion and unease. However, Aelita's gaze, although fixed on the brunette, seemed blurry, scattered. And the confusion painted on the boy's face, after crossing glances with the girl, gave Meyer to understand that he had noticed it too.
And when she took a moment to look at the newcomer, she realized that she was actually in really bad shape. The girl's face was all red from effort, and in some places scratched, as were her arms and legs. She had leaves in her hair and on her clothes, which, by the way, consisted of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, which definitely wasn't typical clothing for a November afternoon.
- What about Odd?
- He fainted. - she announced, and when Stones didn't even look towards Della Robbia and Moreau furrowed his brows, she added. - And you seem to have forgotten your glasses, huh?
- Yeah, glasses. Right. I lost them. - she quickly caught the hint, squinting her eyes and blinking several times for a better effect. - Anyway, we need to-
- Wait, I think I missed something.- Charles interrupted her, looking at her from under his brow. - How did you even get here?
- Odd mentioned something. He wasn't picking up, so I came to find him.
Her tense body language, drawn facial features, and the way she jumped at every, even the slightest, sound clearly indicated that she was incredibly stressed.
- Without phone? - he raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged.
- Yeah, as you can see, I forgot that too. And as I said, we need to take him to the nurse.
He wanted to say something, but one look at Alex made him quickly change his mind.
- There's no way I'm moving him, certainly not alone. - he muttered instead. - He's too heavy.
- Okay. - she sighed, though her hands noticeably trembled as she ran them over her face. - Let's call Jeremy then. You have his number, right?
- No signal here.
- How no; - she cut in almost immediately and rolled her eyes. - Then find it.
It was hard to tell who she was really talking to, but for some reason, Charles felt responsible for carrying out this task. Alex looked at him in amazement as he reached for her phone, but apparently, she hesitated for a second too long.
- I won't be reading your messages. - he grumbled discontentedly, and it absolutely wasn't what she had in mind initially.
Because the only thing on her mind was that something made Aelita look this way. The same something that made her stumble over her own legs and probably lurked outside, ready to grab Charles in its claws and devour him whole.
- I know you won't. - she finally hissed. - But I can do it too.
- I'll go with you then. - Stones immediately interjected.
The boy looked from one to the other, then snorted and snatched the phone from Meyer's hand, heading towards the exit.
- Hey! - she protested, promptly following him. - I'm going-
- No! - he turned abruptly. - It's better if you stay here. - every word spoken by the boy seemed to sting his throat, but his gaze remained hard and cold. - With Odd and Aelita.
- I just want-
- You know me? - the girl's question completely threw Meyer off balance. She raised her eyebrows, disoriented, glancing questioningly at Charles, who crossed his arms over his chest, not taking his eyes off Stones.
- Yes. And by the way, I've never seen you wearing glasses.
- I usually wear contacts. - the lie smoothly slipped from her lips, but in no way convinced the boy.
- And do you usually run around to abandoned houses in the middle of the forest in this condition?
- Charlie! - the dark-haired girl hissed, to which the brunet silenced her with a glare.
- Should I ignore the fact that she looks like someone chased her all the way here?
- For your information, I was jogging! - Stones snapped.
- And you went jogging in glasses? Dressed like this? In the WINTER?
- Yes, I felt like it, it's not your business!
- Apparently. - he replied with an indifferent tone before a loud crash from below caught their attention. - Oh, great. - he sighed annoyed. - Who else?
As soon as he approached the guard, the orange aura pulled him inside, condemning him to a new vision, this time in the surroundings of the Cortex. He stood on a platform near the core, and his gaze quickly caught the figure a few meters away.
It was so strange.
To see oneself from the perspective of another person. A view so familiar, yet so alien, mainly due to the deep blackness covering the brilliance of his irises.
His evil twin, in turn, gazed at something that (as it seemed to him) was just behind his back. However, when he looked over his shoulder, he noticed nothing but the uneven structure of the Cortex. He felt a shiver down his spine when he sensed the presence of his clone, who leveled with him in a second.
- I won. - a quiet growl reached his ears, and the world swirled before his eyes as an unimaginable force squeezed his throat, pushing him straight into the abyss.
The sharp white light from above for a moment made it impossible for him to see where he was. He vaguely realized the chill radiating down his back, providing momentary relief to the fever burning through his body. He almost jumped when a muffled sound of an explosion reached his ears, echoing in the room. He looked down, barely suppressing nausea and the black spots wavering before his eyes, discovering that half of his body was crushed.
That explained the lack of feeling in his legs.
The rational part of his mind reminded him that it wasn't him, it wasn't his body, and none of this was really happening. However, it was so challenging to suppress all those emotions, all that fear and panic that robbed him of his sanity. When he looked at the world through someone else's eyes, he never truly had control, not in any of his previous dreams; so he wasn't surprised when, despite his will, he pulled himself up in place, and unimaginable pain pierced his nerves. Yet, he didn't stop, trying to crawl out from under the rubble as quickly as possible.
When he saw the fire, he understood why.
All words got stuck in her throat as the flickering fingers tightened on the door frame, and the gaze of wild, black eyes fixated on her.
The spectrum's face kept flickering and glitching, like an image on a television screen, not really showing any specific features. Nevertheless, they didn't need to see all the elements of the specter's face smoothly to know that it expressed absolute rage.
One look from the empty eyes was enough for both her and Moreau to freeze in absolute stillness. She didn't even flinch; she couldn't when it approached and leaned over her, scrutinizing her for a few chilling seconds.
- All three. - it murmured with that unnatural, electrically vibrating voice, revealing a dark abyss where its mouth should be.
She was silenced.
It was the first time she heard the polymorphic specter speak, and the fact that it hadn't done anything to harm them so far made everything even more terrifying. Cold sweat ran down her back, and her breath seemed to quicken with each second of his non-reaction; she felt like an animal waiting for slaughter. She had the sensation that it was probing her mind, with a few painful stabs inside her skull, before it just casually moved past her, heading towards Aelita.
Considering that it blocked the only exit from the room, the girl was quickly captured. The specter tightened its black claws on her shoulders, eliciting a short cry from her, along with the codes. But it wasn't that what terrified Alex; it was the sound Della Robbia made behind her. A stifled moan full of pain, which had to be extremely intense, given that the boy felt it even in such a state. A moment later, Stones fell to her knees, pushed away by the specter, and the spectrum's structure began to fade and reappear.
That was the moment she felt she had control over her limbs again. She ran to Aelita, avoiding the spectrum with a wide arc. It didn't move, but its eyes followed her, and she could swear it smiled before its body blurred and disappeared. For a long time, Meyer stared in that direction, and blood roared in her ears. It was only when her breathing calmed down a bit, and her heart stopped pounding through her chest, that she could look toward Charles, who blinked furiously, rubbing his temples.
She expected questions, panic, screams, but Charles seemed just dazed, as if pulled out of a trance - probably that was the case.
- Jeez. - he muttered, squinting his eyes. - What just...- he shook his head a few times, unable to gather his thoughts. Then he glanced at her, then at Aelita, whom she held in her arms, and raised an eyebrow. - happened?
- I tripped! - she blurted out immediately, getting up with a bit of help from Alex, who used it as an excuse not to look into her friend's face.
Then he would immediately realize that something is wrong.
- Everything okay? - he muttered, and his green eyes scanned the girl once again, growing more doubtful. Something didn't sit right with him, but he wasn't entirely sure what or why. - You look pale.
- I'm fine, thank you.
The brunette looked even more bewildered when, out of the blue, the cell phone in his hand vibrated. He glanced up in surprise at the top corner of the screen, where he clearly saw three full bars.
- I must have been looking in the wrong place. - he declared before extending his hand toward Aelita with an unreadable expression. - Here. I think this is for you.
The girl immediately grabbed the phone, swiftly exiting the room. The boy's green eyes followed her figure for a moment, noticing that, as he suspected, she suddenly stopped having any issues with stumbling.
Meanwhile, Meyer focused all her attention on Odd, who began to fidget restlessly in his place before finally opening his eyes and bending halfway, taking a deep breath. His body trembled, and a barely suppressed groan escaped from his open mouth as he tried to regain a steady breathing rhythm, to no avail. His gaze wandered around the room, attempting to organize the chaos in his head.
He shuddered at the sound of his name, barely noticeably, before taking another breath and blinking several times, finally getting himself together. Sweat glistened on his forehead, collecting at his temples as he covered his face with his hands. The touch on his skin was like an attempt to halt the chaotic flood of thoughts and images relentlessly returning to him.
It was just a dream, just a stupid nightmare.
He lifted his gaze, and the first person he encountered was Meyer, standing in the corner of the bed. Their eyes met, and a sense of relief crossed his face as he made sure he could see her, see her clearly, whole and healthy, in reality. Only then did he notice Moreau, and memories of their argument quickly flooded back, filling his chest mainly with embarrassment more than anything else.
- How long was I out?- he spat finally, grimacing as he brought his legs to the ground and dusted off the dark material of his jacket.
- Less than half an hour. - Charlie replied, and the girl was grateful for it because she still couldn't find her voice.
The blonde nodded. Okay. Less than half an hour wasn't much. What could have happened in that time that made the girl seem so frightened?
And then he noticed Aelita standing in the doorway, staring at the dark paint spot on the wall just to the left of the entrance, holding the phone in her hand.
Someone pinch him, for God's sake.
He didn't return to the room.
In fact, he didn't even return to the dormitory, too agitated to face anyone, pretending that everything was okay.
Nothing was fucking okay.
Jeremy called Aelita from the hermitage, making sure they were all fine. No one was fatally injured, and Charles seemed unaware of the specter's attack (although he had no idea how it happened), so Belpois didn't trigger the return to the past. Odd was well aware that if he didn't do it, it was solely because he couldn't.
He would bet all his money on it, just as he would on the fact that it was he who told Stones about their visit to the hermitage. And since the girl came running straight from the gym, he assumed he must have confessed it to her before the attack - damn traitor. However, that didn't completely absolve him of Ulrich's accusations, who could have said something to Yumi, something he would probably find out in a few hours when he showed up for the mission in the Cortex.
Anyway, the consequences of his own decisions hit him faster than he anticipated, and he hated it. Especially now, when he couldn't get all those visions and memories out of his head, putting his psyche in question.
As soon as he realized Aelita's presence in the hermitage, the first thing he did, almost against his will, was to look at her shoes. A shiver ran down his spine when he noticed the familiar pink sneakers, which he had seen not long ago in his dreams, and, moreover, a light scar running along her calf. That alone was hard for him to swallow, but then, when Stones offered to help him back to the room (probably to skin him alive there), Moreau noticed that it would be challenging for her to lead him without glasses.
Pink shoes. Gate. Wound on the leg. Vision problems.
He shook his head, trying to dispel thoughts and focus them back on the right track. It was just a damn dream. A million times he had dreamed of the hermitage or his friends, nothing major. All these details and the conviction that they weren't projections of his own brain? No, he was just oversensitive; it was nothing.
Nothing.
He glanced at the phone and bit his lower lip, unable to bring himself to press the receiver right next to Alex's name. And even if he mustered the courage, he really wouldn't know where to start. Should he ask her how she was? Apologize that her friend didn't speak to her almost the entire way because of his presence? Or should he confess that he probably was losing his mind, thinking he could predict the future?
He wasn't ready for this conversation.
He leaned back on the seat, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply, immersed in the darkness of his thoughts and the space around him. The chill of the night, penetrating to the bone and numbing his limbs, allowed him to maintain a clear mind. Unfortunately, it also made him realize that, for the first time in a very long time, he was so scared of the future and what it could bring and take away.
After all, he was a Lyoko warrior, the most reckless of them all, risking at every possible opportunity for fun. He didn't care about things like planning, responsibility, or duties; he always postponed them. And maybe that's why he didn't notice the moment when they all returned with double force, demanding payment.
He was eighteen. In a few months, he was supposed to finish school, and he didn't need XANA to find it frightening by itself. He didn't know what he wanted to do in life, whether he intended to stay in the city or leave, or if he even wanted to go to college. What he did know, however, was that he didn't want to part with the people he valued, who had become a closer family to him than his relatives, even if they could be just as annoying. And growing up seemed to be an inevitable part of all this.
He hated being alone. He hated this feeling of helplessness. He wanted to be confident and have clearly defined goals, just like others expected from him. However, he still hesitated and couldn't make any decisions. He disappointed people around him, especially those who believed in him, like his parents. They no longer told Delmas fairy tales about their extraordinary gifted child when he summoned them to the office, showing a report card. They no longer looked at him with that proud expression but rather with a gleam of disappointment, which they tried to mask with a restrained smile.
Interesting if they would still be so pleased with him if they knew their son was saving the world. But even in that, he didn't feel as good as he used to. Every time he tried to act, prove to himself that he could still do something, XANA forced him to take two steps back.
So time was slipping away, and he still stood in place.