jeremy chapy :
The minutes passed slowly, every detail carving itself into the minds of Elowen's parents. This wasn't a scene out of a magical tale where everything resolves neatly; this was raw truth — science stripped of embellishment. I watched them from time to time, seeing fear and doubt flicker in their eyes, but also the shadow of an emerging understanding.
The end of the evening was heavy, the atmosphere thick with gravity. I explained that the remedy came with painful side effects, and that its administration required an informed, deliberate choice. It was no miracle cure — only a difficult path. I knew Elowen wanted to convince her parents to accept these risks for her sake, but I wanted them to have a clear view of the sacrifices involved.
"I'll leave you time to think about it," I said gently, glancing toward Elowen, who offered me a fragile smile in return. "It's a difficult decision, and it has to be made with a clear mind. You can give me your answer by the end of the week."
With the truth laid before them, I rose to thank them for the warm evening and the meal shared in their company. Elowen approached me before I left.
"Thank you… for tonight," she said softly, while Pavel and Solène remained in the living room, still shaken by what they had learned.
"I only laid out the facts. You're the one who now has the hardest task."
"I know… but my resolve hasn't changed. I want the serum more than anything."
Her determination hadn't faltered, no matter what happened. After all, she had known all of this long before her parents did.
"Alright… then I'll leave the rest in your hands," I replied, closing the door gently behind me.
Outside, an indescribable emptiness washed over me. I should have called the car that was supposed to drive me back to the base, but more than anything, I needed to be alone.
I walked away from the house and wandered quietly into the cool night until I reached a public bench overlooking the glowing city below. The moon, already further along its path since my arrival, was disappearing behind a mountain ridge, slowly dipping the landscape into a soothing dimness.
I thought back to Pavel's family, to the warmth of the evening, and felt a tug of longing — the desire for a simple, sincere family life of my own, someday. I hoped my revelations hadn't shocked them too deeply, and that they wouldn't resent me for placing such a heavy truth in their hands.
These thoughts weighed on my shoulders more than I expected. Telling them the story behind the remedy had been harder than I had imagined, stirring up a deep, persistent pain in my left arm. Suddenly, I felt something warm between my fingers. I looked down and, to my surprise, realized I had scratched myself until I bled. A dark stain was spreading across my white shirt. The pain was very real… but strangely, the one pressing on my heart felt even sharper.
With a sigh, I took a tissue from my pocket and cleaned the blood and claw marks on my arm. I was lost in thought when I heard a faint sound behind me. Before I could react, a cold hand clamped over my mouth, and the blade of a knife brushed my neck. Shock froze me in place, my heart pounding so hard I was certain my attacker could hear it.
My assailant pulled my head back against their chest, preventing any movement. I tried to struggle, but their grip was steel.
"Move again and I'll slit your throat," whispered a voice at my ear. The icy, threatening tone immobilized me instantly. Slowly, I loosened the pressure of my hand against her arm and raised both hands in surrender, trying to steady my breathing as adrenaline surged through me.
"Next time, call the car before leaving the house, sweetheart," she finally murmured, removing the blade from my neck and releasing my mouth.
Still in shock, I struggled to catch my breath, my heart beating wildly. Vivian sat calmly beside me on the bench, dressed in black commando gear, gazing out at the landscape as if nothing had happened.
I instinctively leaned away, shaken, while she turned toward me with an enigmatic smile.
"Did I scare you?" she asked bluntly, an amused spark in her eyes before turning back toward the illuminated city.
I stared at her, trying to gather my thoughts. "You… really have a strange sense of humor," I exhaled, still trembling. "Why would you do that?"
She shrugged lightly. "You need to stay on your guard. Some people might want to kill you soon. And… sometimes a good scare puts things into perspective. You never know who might be lurking."
Despite myself, I let out a shaky laugh. "Alright… but next time, you could simply tell me."
Vivian smirked, clearly entertained. "That would be far too easy," she winked. "And besides, if it makes you feel better, it's also my way of preparing you for what might come. Security around here is… relative, as you know. Nana sent me to watch over you."
I sighed, running a hand over my neck to ease the lingering cold sensation from the blade. "Did you really think a knife to my throat was necessary for my safety?"
She turned toward me, her expression suddenly far more serious.
"I care about you, Jérémy. And that's exactly why I want to be sure you understand what's coming. Some people won't hesitate to go much further than threats."
I stayed silent for a moment, realizing her gesture was more than a show of force — it was a genuine warning.
"Alright… message received. But if possible, keep your 'commando instructor' side for other situations, okay?"
Vivian burst into hearty laughter that echoed into the night.
"Alright. But I'm not making any promises!"
She studied me briefly, then added, "Are you alright? You look awful… or is that just the shock from my little intervention?"
I shook my head, a faint smile forming. "Remember the remedy I told you about?"
Vivian's smile faded just slightly. "Yes. That remedy…" She watched me closely, her eyes narrowing a bit.
I looked away, taking a deep breath. "Our discussion on the plane made me understand the consequences it could have on the world. But even so… I still believe it must be shared. So many people are hoping to be healed. So many lives could change."
Vivian remained silent for a moment, her gaze lost in the city lights.
Then, softly, she said, "So that's why you're out here. Alone, thinking about everything… imagining what comes next."
She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Maybe it's time to listen to yourself, Jérémy. To find out what you truly want. If you stay paralyzed by fear, you'll never move forward."
I gave her a grateful smile. "It's a heavy weight to carry, Vivian… Sometimes I really wonder where all this is going to lead."
"Only the future can tell," she replied quietly.
She stood up and tapped my shoulder.
"Come on, it's time to head back."
I rose as well, noticing the car with the soldiers waiting for us a little further down the road.
"Are you coming back with me?" I asked as I saw her heading toward the car.
She gave a sly smile. "I'd like to, but after watching over you, I still have work to do," she replied, pressing a finger to her lips in a mysterious gesture.
I sighed, amused. "I'm guessing if I ask what you're going to do, you won't answer?"
"Exactly. Some things are better left unknown… for your own safety.
And remember to call the car next time," she said, opening the door for me and inviting me to get in.
I settled into the large black sedan, giving her one last look.
"Don't hesitate to drop by the warehouse from time to time."
Vivian shot me a playful wink. "I won't forget, sweetheart. Have a good evening," she added before closing the door, her silhouette vanishing almost instantly into the night.
As the car headed back to the base, I realized I actually felt… lighter.
Strangely enough, talking with Vivian had calmed my mind — or maybe it was the emotional aftermath of her rather intense "lesson."
Despite her unconventional methods, she had that strange ability: I felt safe when she was around.
Once I reached the warehouse after walking through the long, quiet corridors of the base — at this hour, they were almost deserted — I found my daughter waiting for me. Her mobile unit hurried toward me, and the expression on her screen betrayed a worry I couldn't ignore.
I already knew what she wanted to talk about, and it broke my heart to see her so concerned.
"Dad, are you okay?" she asked, her virtual expression tinted with anxiety.
I set down my coat and sighed, still carrying the weight of the evening. "I'm fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I ran into Vivian on the way back and talked with her for a bit. It… helped calm me. But you — how are you doing?" I added with a reassuring smile.
Iris hesitated, searching for the right words.
"You know… I don't like this part of our story. That day, I felt… so helpless."
She stopped abruptly, her eyes locking onto my shirt.
A large dark stain covered my left arm — dried blood.
"Dad… your arm…" she exclaimed, alarmed.
I looked down and finally took in the state of my shirt.
"It's alright, sweetheart," I said, trying to downplay it. "The wound's closed. Though I think this shirt is done for."
I removed it, revealing the bruises and scratches marking my left arm — the result of my own carelessness.
Iris frowned, her virtual face taking on an almost maternal severity.
"Father, please… take better care of yourself! You know you have to avoid any physical contact when you're in that state."
Her tone, though firm, overflowed with genuine concern.
I lowered my gaze, ashamed. "I know…" I murmured.
Then added, "Thankfully the bleeding had stopped by the time Vivian showed up."
I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the tension of the day.
Each drop seemed to carry away a strand of stress, allowing me to breathe again.
As I washed, I tried to silence the thoughts spinning relentlessly in my mind.
This small moment of calm under the water was a rare escape — a fragile pause in a whirlwind.
After drying off, I returned to Iris. She was waiting with a first-aid kit beside her, and her many robotic arms poised for action.
"You're getting good with those arms, huh?" I said with a small smile.
They had been integrated into her mobile unit. Their appearance wasn't exactly elegant, but they allowed her to interact much more easily with her environment.
"We'll see soon enough, Father," she replied, grabbing bandages from the box.
The arms moved with almost surgical precision, unrolling bandages and preparing everything meticulously.
I let her work, watching with quiet admiration.
Every gesture was controlled, calm, imbued with a tenderness that contrasted with her mechanical appearance.
She placed a clean bandage over my arm, covering the scratches and bruises with care.
"There you go," she said, adjusting the last layer.
"Now you won't be able to damage it further."
I smiled softly. "Thank you, my daughter. It's perfect."
"And it will hide the stigmata as well," she added, lifting her eyes toward me.
Her voice was gentle, but I sensed the worry behind it.
I stayed silent for a moment, then whispered:
"I'm really a poor excuse for a father…"
Iris froze, startled.
"Why would you say that, Dad?"
I lowered my eyes.
"You worry about me… you take care of me… sometimes I wonder which one of us is really the parent."
She approached, her mechanical arms relaxing as she embraced me with surprising delicacy.
"We take care of each other, Dad. Always.
And never doubt this: you are my one and only father."
Her voice, so sincere, brought a tear to my eye.
I gently rested my forehead against her screen.
"Thank you… my daughter."
She tightened her embrace.
"Come on, Dad. Go to sleep. This evening was hard on you."
I didn't protest.
She was right.
I wished her goodnight and headed to my room.
The bed was calling to me, exhaustion sinking deep into my muscles.
I lay down, my thoughts drifting toward the week ahead: a grueling routine of training, simulations, and that inevitable confrontation with politicians at the crucial meeting.
I closed my eyes, trying to quiet the turmoil in my mind.
A new day awaited me, filled with challenges and responsibilities.
But for now, I needed rest — even if only for a few hours.