Clarity opened the door to reveal himself. The table was set, and the aroma of home-cooked food filled the air. Lydia, his mother, smiled as she welcomed him.
"How strange for you to come at this hour. What happened?"
Clarity set his bag aside and pulled off his hood, raising an eyebrow. "Have you forgotten?"
"Is there an important occasion today?"
"Ah... Mother... what is on your mind lately? Is it the knitting?"
"I’m not obsessed with it, and it’s not consuming my thoughts!"
"Balls of yarn are everywhere! I truly hope you can sell these pieces; at least we’d get some money."
"Stop pestering me."
"Let’s go back to the point. Did you really forget? The eleventh of April? I left Jake in the middle of an important situation and rushed home, yet you don't even remember!"
"I remembered! It’s your birthday!"
"Mother, seriously?"
Lydia hesitated, her voice trembling. "No, I was mistaken... well," she said, trying to force a smile, "you tell me. I’m a little tired."
"We were supposed to visit Father’s grave. He was your husband, after all... How could you forget that?"
"I’m sorry."
Clarity gasped, the memory shattering his composure. Countless similar scenes flickered before his eyes, vivid and agonizing.
He rose from the bed where he had been lying. Eve had told him to stay in this room while she finished her work—a small, dimly lit office where sunlight barely touched the corners.
Clarity stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, his eyes swollen.
"I hate you, Clarity. I hate you in every detail."
He grabbed a hair tie from his wrist, pulled his hair back, and tied it up. His appearance changed entirely. Perhaps he simply couldn't bear to see "Clarity" staring back at him—he couldn't stand the sight of himself.
He stormed out, heading straight for Eve’s office. He burst through the door without knocking, causing Eve to turn, her expression sharp with disapproval.
"Doors were made to be knocked upon!" she said. "They were made to prevent the entry of those who haven't been invited."
The office was vast, decorated with modern pink accents and lined with massive bookshelves. Eve stood by the window, then moved to her desk and sat down.
Moments of silence stretched between them. Clarity stood across from her, his eyes hollow. Seeing his state, Eve sighed. "Fine... I’ll give you a pass this time. Sit down, please."
Clarity sank to his knees, then sat on the floor, his voice breaking. "I want her to be okay. Please."
Eve rose and knelt beside him. "I am doing everything I can. I promised her as much."
"I will get the money... whatever it takes."
Eve stood again, walking back to her favorite spot by the window. She took a deep breath and asked firmly, "What are you to your mother? Any mother would want her children by her side. Were you really ignorant of her illness?"
"How much money do you need?"
"Are you trying to ignore my questions?"
"Miss Eve... I can't talk about this now. I will tell you everything that piques your curiosity... but later."
"It doesn't pique my curiosity this time. It concerns a patient important to me. But... fine. I will wait until you tell me yourself. Since you insist on the money, stand up and sit on the sofa so we can talk."
Clarity stood and sat on the sofa. Eve sat opposite him.
"This institution is supported by my grandfather and father, but I am the largest shareholder. It belongs entirely to me. As you can see, there are three floors. Each holds about fifty patients. As I told you, I am curious—I know the stories of all 150 patients here. I visit them often. They are like family to me. Your mother is no different."
"Some are already wealthy, so I take a fee for their treatment. The ones who cannot pay are treated at the institution's expense."
"I will pay for my mother's treatment."
"I don't take cash. I take shares in people’s properties—a percentage of their land, something like that. Perhaps you haven't heard of such an arrangement."
"I understand. But I don't own a single inch of ground in this city."
"Then I can treat your mother for free."
Clarity interrupted quickly. "No... I will pay in cash. You must agree! Give me an exception this time! I’ll try to find work, then I’ll pay for sure... Could I find a job here? The money I earn will go to her treatment."
"Do you think I’m an employment agency? And what are your qualifications, exactly?"
"I am strong, perhaps. I can work for long hours."
"Are these qualifications? But... a job did cross my mind. I’ll tell you about it later," she smiled faintly. "It suits you."
In the weapon storage, Jake was scrubbing the floor of burnt debris, his clothes stained black. He picked up a half-burnt piece of fabric, and the dust rose, making him cough violently. Just a normal cough...
But why can't I breathe?
The scent of ash. A distorted sequence of unknown memories flashed.
"What is this pain! My head feels like it’s going to explode!"
Jake rushed out, gasping. Something strange is happening lately. These headaches... these nightmares!
Apollo stood before him, smirking. He looked Jake over. "A sight for sore eyes! You look wonderful, Jake. Born to be here," he gestured to Jake’s feet, "I mean, born to be under me."
Apollo laughed. The other gang members gathered, whispering. Jake ignored them and turned back to the storage room, despite Apollo’s shouts.
Apollo followed. "When your leader calls, you listen!"
"You are a leader of nothing but yourself."
"Jake! Set your ego aside. The Boss’s law states that obedience to leaders is mandatory. Otherwise, there is punishment!"
"Either tell me your order or start the punishment."
"You are banned from eating here for a week."
"I’ll go to the restaurant and eat."
Apollo gritted his teeth. "And leaving is forbidden!"
"The Boss’s law states the first punishment is solitary and a warning. The second is from the Boss himself. The third is death. I thought I’d share that with you, as you aspire to be a leader. You can ask me anytime—I won't hold back. Now, leave before the ash hurts you."
Clarity went back to the third floor to steal a glance at his mother. She was asleep; the nurse said she was under sedation. He sat by the door, just... close to her.
He had ignored his hunger for too long, but his stomach was in knots. He drifted off, wishing his life would just... end.
He opened his eyes to see a boy in front of him. Who was he?
Cypher.
"Clarity... Clarity, wake up!" The boy shoved clothes into Clarity's hands. "I’m so happy! I won't be alone anymore!"
Clarity whispered, "What are you happy about?"
"You’ve been hired at the institution! You’ll work alongside me... as a Cypher!"
Clarity froze. As a Cypher?
Wasn't the Cypher the servant who fulfilled patients' wishes? The neighbor had told him it was a unique job—Eve’s own invention—but then whispered that it was a terrible position. A servant by any other name.