8:20 PM
Back at the hospital
Zuri and Jamal sat handcuffed on a cold bench outside Daniel's hospital room. The sterile hallway buzzed faintly with fluorescent light, but the tension in the air was louder than anything.
"Officer, I know what my wife did was wrong," Jamal said, his tone calm but firm.
"But we've been waiting a long time. Can we at least see our son? Or just… tell us if he's okay."
"Be quiet,"
One of the officers snapped, turning her head.
Jamal's hands clenched in his lap. His jaw tightened, and the cool in his eyes vanished, replaced by rising heat.
"Don't argue with them, hun."
Zuri's voice came soft, not calm, but hollow.
Jamal, still seething, turned to look at Zuri.
But the moment his eyes met hers, the anger drained from his face.
That fire behind his frustration flickered... and died.
Her eyes were red. Not just from crying, but from fighting not to cry.
The spark in her tone was gone. She didn't look angry anymore. She looked tired. Like something inside her had dimmed.
"Zuri, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Jamal leaned toward her, trying to pull her into a hug, but the handcuffs got in the way.
Zuri trembled. Her voice cracked.
"I—I… I'm scared, Jamal. I don't want to lose our son."
She looked up at him, her lip trembling.
"I can't go through that pain again. I can't lose someone I love… not again."
She leaned into him, helpless against the weight of it all, and finally let go.
The tears came in torrents, falling fast, falling hard.
"Everything is okay. Remember what the officers said—Daniel walked away without a scratch."
Jamal leaned in, wrapping his arms around his wife, trying to steady her shaking frame. His voice was low, reassuring.
"It's going to be okay."
"Yeah, but… but…"
Zuri stuttered, wiping the tears from her eyes with trembling fingers.
"Why did he suddenly collapse like that?"
"Her voice cracked — soft, shaky, and full of dread.
"You… you don't know what these monsters are capable of. What if they planted something inside him? A parasite? Or made it seem like he wasn't hurt—just to mess with us later?"
Her thoughts spiraled. Her heartbeat quickened. Her breath hitched in her throat as terrifying images clouded her mind.
"Isn't their whole goal to torture humans? To play with us like toys before they kill us?"
"Zuri, hey-hey, look at me."
Jamal gently cupped her face as best he could with the cuffs still on.
"Calm down. Remember your breathing exercises. Come on… breathe in."
He inhaled with her.
"Now out."
Zuri mirrored him, unsteady at first, but slowly gaining control of her breath. She blinked rapidly, tears still clinging to her lashes, but her panic began to settle.
Creeeeak.
The door to Daniel's room opened.
A man stepped out, clipboard in hand, white coat crisp, stethoscope hanging around his neck. He looked composed, professional… almost too calm for the moment.
"Mr. and Mrs. Smith?" he asked, his tone even.
His presence alone made their hearts freeze.
"Yes."
"Yes!"
Both Jamal and Zuri replied at once.
Zuri turned her head with haste. Her voice cracked slightly, sharp with urgency — a mix of hope, fear, and exhaustion all crashing together.
The doctor cleared his throat before speaking.
"We ran several tests on your son, and I just want to reassure you… He'll be fine."
"Oh, thank God…"
Zuri let out a heavy breath, like a boulder had been lifted off her chest.
"S-So what happened?"
Jamal leaned forward, nearly falling off the bench. "Why did he collapse?"
The doctor adjusted his glasses and lifted the clipboard with one hand.
"Well… it turns out he experienced a mild case of Primal Pressure Dysregulation — also known as an Aura Break."
"Aura Break?"
Jamal's brow furrowed. "That doesn't make any sense."
Zuri looked up at him, confused. "Hun… what does that mean? What's Aura break?"
Before Jamal could answer, a new voice cut through the hallway:
"We might be able to answer that."
Everyone turned.
"Hey! Who are you?" one of the officers barked.
A tall teenager approached, hands tucked casually in his pockets. He moved with quiet confidence — calm, sharp-eyed, and composed.
"Second Lieutenant David Blackthorne," he said, holding out his ID.
"Serial Number: 2104–ARC–UK03."
"And I'm here to inform you that you're dismissed. The army is now taking over this investigation."
David, without pausing, his voice sharp and unwavering.
"Dismissed? On whose authority?"
James stepped forward, his tone laced with disbelief.
A nearby officer leaned toward Detective James and whispered in his ear.
"Sir… his last name."
James furrowed his brow.
"His what?"
He repeated, confused.
But before the officer could clarify—
Crkkk! Radio static flared to life.
"Detective, I assume by now you've met with Lieutenant Blackthorne."
"Blackthorne…"
James's thoughts stalled.
"Wait—that name... why does it sound familiar?"
"Detective."
He jolted upright, caught off guard.
"Uh—yes, sir."
"Good. Then you know what to do."
"But sir—"
James tried to protest.
"That's an order, James."
The line went dead.
James gritted his teeth in annoyance, squeezing the radio tightly in his hand.
He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, then slowly lowered the radio. frustration clearly etched into his every movement.
Ssshhhkk.
He clipped the radio back on his belt and let out a low, measured breath.
"Release them," he said, voice low and clipped.
The officers complied, removing the cuffs from Zuri and Jamal without a word. The tension in the room thinned, but didn't disappear.
James turned and walked away—calm, deliberate steps. He moved down the corridor until he reached a patient's room.
He opened the door.
Inside, Davis sat upright in a hospital bed, nose wrapped in gauze, a plastic cup of pudding in his hand. He didn't look up.
"What are you doing?" James asked.
Davis gestured vaguely at his face.
"Bleeding."
James stepped further into the room. He didn't raise his voice.
"You look comfortable."
"They gave me vanilla. Not my favorite." Davis shrugged, still spooning the pudding.
James stared at him for a moment.
"We're off the case."
The words came cold and matter-of-fact, like a door slamming shut.
That got Davis's attention.
He lowered the spoon, finally meeting James's eyes.
"…Since when?"
"Since now."
James turned to leave, hand already on the door.
"You can finish your snack in the car..."
"So, do you want to know the truth and what's going on with your son?"
David asked, his voice calm but firm.
"Yes," Jamal replied quickly, his posture straightening. He was eager to hear what this young man had to say.
"Alright then. This is my partner, Rachel."
David gestured to the girl standing beside him, who gave a respectful nod.
"And we're part of a task force called the Archangels. And we're here for Daniel."