Arthur didn’t sleep until dawn.
The piece of paper on his desk was still there.
Because we never put her there.
He read the sentence again.
And again.
Deceiving one person was easy.
Deceiving a group was harder.
But making dozens of people carry the exact same lie without contradiction…
That required organization.
Arthur slowly rose from his chair.
The emotionless composure that could dissect human behavior like a chessboard had returned.
But this time, he wasn’t studying people for curiosity.
He was hunting.
He chose an empty section of the wall.
The first photograph went up.
A security officer.
The second.
A corridor supervisor.
The third.
A member of the medical team.
The fourth.
A records department employee.
The fifth.
A former Area 19 operative.
Arthur wrote their names beneath the photographs.
Then stepped back.
“One of you is lying.”
Silence.
His eyes moved across the wall.
“No.”
His voice remained calm.
“All of you are.”
The wall slowly became an investigation board.
Photographs.
Strings.
Timelines.
Entry and exit logs.
Facility maps.
Surveillance frames.
Personnel records.
And at the center— one photograph.
Elera.
Arthur wrote beneath it in large letters:
TIME OF DEATH: UNCONFIRMED
Then:
NO BODY
A line.
NO MEDICAL CONFIRMATION
Another.
INCOMPLETE SURVEILLANCE
Arthur stepped back.
He stared at the board.
“If all of this is true…”
His eyes narrowed.
“…then she never died.”
There was no hope in his voice.
Only a conclusion.
The next morning, Arthur questioned the first suspect.
A records clerk.
The man sat across from him, visibly nervous.
“I already told you everything.”
Arthur placed a photograph on the table.
“No.”
The man looked at it.
“The cameras went down that night.”
Arthur placed another photograph beside it.
“The cameras didn’t go down.”
The man’s expression changed.
“The recordings were altered.”
“I didn’t alter anything.”
Arthur studied him.
Breathing rhythm.
Eye movement.
Shoulder tension.
Pupil dilation.
Stress response.
He didn’t need a machine to tell him when someone was lying.
“I know.”
The man blinked.
“What?”
“You didn’t alter the footage.”
Arthur leaned back.
“They told you to say that it was altered.”
The man’s face tightened.
Arthur continued.
“Now tell me who told you.”
The man remained silent.
Arthur glanced at his watch.
“You have three seconds.”
“I don’t know.”
“One.”
“I really don’t know.”
“Two.”
The man lowered his head.
Then whispered a name.
Arthur wrote it down.
He stood.
The man looked up.
“You said if I told you what you wanted—”
Arthur stopped at the door.
“You already gave me what I needed.”
The man’s face went pale.
Arthur left.
He didn’t look back.
Days passed.
Arthur barely slept.
Coffee cups accumulated across his desk.
Meals were forgotten.
His clothes remained unchanged for hours at a time.
Even when he lay down…
he rarely closed his eyes.
Because every time he did— he saw Elera.
But he didn’t allow himself to mourn her.
Not yet.
Grief was something you dealt with after certainty.
And Arthur had no certainty.
Only questions.
So he searched.
He tracked leads like an investigator. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Interrogated like an intelligence officer.
And removed obstacles whenever they stood between him and the next answer.
The wall grew.
Twelve photographs.
Twenty-one.
Thirty-four.
Forty-two.
Every face led somewhere.
Every contradiction opened another door.
Arthur categorized them.
KNOWS SOMETHING.
ACCOMPLICE.
USED.
LYING.
And most importantly—
BELIEVES SHE IS DEAD.
That last category disturbed him the most.
Because some people weren’t lying.
They genuinely believed Elera was dead.
Which meant the deception wasn’t only about what happened.
It was about controlling what everyone believed had happened.
One night, Arthur stopped before a photograph.
A man.
Arthur had seen him during the incident.
In the crowd.
But unlike everyone else…
the man had never panicked.
Arthur removed the photograph.
Placed it beside another.
Same man.
Different camera.
Different time.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“No…”
He added a third image.
The realization came instantly.
“You were there before it happened.”
He looked at the timestamp.
Then at the second image.
“And after.”
The entire pattern shifted.
Arthur had spent days constructing complicated theories.
But sometimes the biggest flaw in a complex operation was painfully simple.
Someone had appeared twice…
when he shouldn’t have been there at all.
Arthur found the man.
An abandoned warehouse.
Alone.
Waiting.
When Arthur entered, the man smiled.
“Finally.”
Arthur stopped.
“Where is Elera?”
The man’s smile remained.
“You really want to know.”
Arthur said nothing.
“Then tell me why you’re so certain she’s alive.”
Arthur studied him.
“No body.”
Silence.
“No death certificate.”
One step forward.
“No verified medical report.”
Another.
“And the surveillance footage wasn’t completely erased.”
The man’s smile weakened.
“Only selected sections were replaced.”
Arthur’s eyes hardened.
“And most importantly…”
He stopped.
“Everyone tells the exact same story.”
Silence.
“Too perfect.”
The man looked away.
Arthur continued.
“Real witnesses don’t remember an event with identical wording.”
Another step.
“You rehearsed it.”
The man’s expression finally changed.
“How much did you figure out?”
“Enough.”
The man inhaled slowly.
“Elera isn’t dead.”
For the first time, something moved in Arthur’s eyes.
But he remained silent.
“They neutralized her before the incident.”
Arthur listened.
“They prepared her beforehand.”
The man continued.
“She had a concealed blood capsule beneath the skin.”
Arthur’s expression remained unreadable.
“A specialized blank round triggered it.”
He paused.
“The blood you saw wasn’t evidence of a fatal wound.”
Arthur’s mind began assembling the sequence.
The angle.
The impact.
The sudden chaos.
The confusion.
The crowd.
Everything began fitting together.
“A staged wound.”
“Yes.”
The man nodded.
“Then they sedated her.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
The man looked at him.
“Long enough for everyone to believe she was dead.”
Arthur remained still.
“And while I was fighting…”
“You were distracted.”
The man’s voice lowered.
“A retrieval team entered.”
“They removed her.”
“And they cleaned the scene.” New chapters come out on g.com first.
Silence.
Arthur stepped closer.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“I swear.”
Arthur stared at him.
Then noticed something on the table.
A file.
He picked it up.
A single code was printed across the cover.
E-18 / TRANSFER
Beneath it— a date.
And a location.
For the first time in days…
Arthur felt his heartbeat accelerate.
The man noticed.
“They didn’t take her back to Area 19.”
Arthur closed the file.
“Then where?”
“Outside the original facility.”
“Why?”
The answer came immediately.
“Because if she stayed inside Area 19…”
The man’s eyes met Arthur’s.
“…you would have found her.”
Arthur said nothing.
He slipped the file inside his jacket.
Then turned toward the exit.
“Arthur.”
He stopped.
“If they wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”
No response.
“They wanted you separated from Elera.”
Arthur slowly looked back.
The man continued.
“Because as long as Elera was alive, she was the only person capable of keeping you from becoming A-1 again.”
Arthur’s expression turned cold.
He drew his weapon.
The barrel pointed directly at the man’s forehead.
“Wrong.”
The man froze.
“What?”
Arthur’s voice was quiet.
“Elera never controlled me.”
A pause.
“She reminded me who I was.”
The man’s eyes widened.
Arthur lowered the weapon.
For a moment, it seemed as though he might leave him alive.
Then—
Pfft.
One suppressed shot.
The man’s body collapsed.
Arthur turned toward the exit.
He didn’t look back.
At three in the morning, Arthur returned to the dormitory.
He entered his room.
The wall stood before him.
Dozens of photographs.
Dozens of red marks.
Dozens of people whose lives had become pieces of a single investigation.
Arthur removed the E-18 file from his coat.
He pinned it at the center of the board.
Beneath it, he wrote:
ELERA — ALIVE
He stepped back.
For the first time in days…
something resembling relief appeared in his eyes.
But it disappeared almost immediately.
Because one question remained.
Where?
Arthur switched off the light.
Before leaving the room, he looked at the photographs one final time.
“Now it’s my turn.”
The door closed.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Only one photograph remained visible beneath the faint light from the window.
A childhood picture.
Arthur.
Elera.
And a small toy between them.
Arthur had never seen the back.
But now…
the photograph slowly turned over.
There was writing on it.
A single sentence.
If you’re reading this, Arthur…
don’t look for me.
Arthur wasn’t there to see it.
And there was one problem.
The handwriting belonged to Elera.
But Elera had never written those words.
Someone had forged them.
Someone who knew exactly how she wrote.
Someone who had access to her old records.
Someone who knew Arthur would eventually find the photograph.
And somewhere in the darkness…
that person was still alive.
Watching.
Waiting.
Because the search for Elera…
had only just begun.
Arthur finally has what he spent days, sleepless nights, and countless lives searching for: Proof.
Or at least the closest thing to it.
But in Area 19, proof is rarely the same as truth.
A missing body becomes a trail.
A trail becomes a trap.
And a trap becomes a choice.
For the first time since Elera’s apparent death, Arthur is no longer chasing revenge.
He is chasing a possibility.
Yet every answer he uncovers reveals a darker question: If Elera is alive…
Who wanted Arthur to believe she was dead?
And more importantly…
Who forged the message that bears Elera’s name?
The next chapter will take Arthur beyond Area 19’s walls and toward a place that was erased from every official record.
Some secrets were hidden.
Others were buried.
This one was kept alive.