Liam kept walking. He made his way down a quieter corridor, away from the bustling center.
His destination was clear: the old building on the west side of the school. A structure rarely visited by students, used only for storing equipment or occasionally as a patrol route for security guards. If he could reach the back staircase and climb to the third floor, then from that rooftop—the back rooftop—he could jump over the fence and directly enter the small forest area behind the school.
His steps quickened as the corridor grew quieter. The sound of his shoes hitting the old, rarely-trodden tiles echoed. The noise from the field grew fainter, replaced only by the rustling of the wind and a faint ringing in his ears.
The stairs at the end of the corridor were in sight.
But just as he was about to step onto the first stair, his body jerked.
"Ah…!"
His head felt like it had been struck by a hammer. His vision blurred, and a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. He grabbed the wall to steady himself, but the world around him spun.
Blood.
Dripping from the corner of his eye.
"No… not now…"
Liam touched his face, finding blood dripping from beneath the soft lens—Hiyana's soft lens—which was now shifting due to the pressure from inside his own eye. He staggered, took a few steps back, and collapsed against the wall. His breath was labored.
A burning sensation seared the back of his eyeballs. A faint, buzzing sound began to echo in his mind—not from outside, but from within. Like the roar of thousands of whispers gnawing at his thoughts.
His hands trembled as he opened the door to the nearest bathroom, slipped inside, and locked himself in.
He bent over the sink, washing his face, but the blood kept flowing. His vision was blurry. When he looked into the mirror, he saw his own eyes—one glowing red, the other beginning to turn black. His contact lenses could no longer withstand whatever was happening.
"What is this…? Why now…?"
Liam whimpered softly, biting his lower lip to suppress a scream. He collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor, his body shaking violently. His breath caught in his throat. His heart raced wildly, irregularly, as if something was struggling inside him.
"Please… not now…"
But there was nothing he could do—except endure. Hold on.
Meanwhile, outside, the faint sound of sirens began to echo. Whether from medical personnel, police, or… additional Nexaris forces.
Liam struggled to rise, gazing at the mirror as he leaned his body against the sink.
Damn it… can't I just shatter this head?!
Liam growled softly, biting his lower lip as he endured the piercing pain in his head. With trembling hands and labored breathing, he felt his eyes—trying to remove the soft lens that had shifted and felt painful.
"Come on… come on… hurry…"
His body was drenched in cold sweat, his fingers continuing to dig until he finally managed to pull the lens out of his left eye. Clear fluid mixed with blood immediately dripped, staining the bathroom's ceramic floor.
Liam's eyes were now clearly visible—red and glowing, emitting a faint, eerie light, as if crying blood. A thin wound was visible beneath his eyelid.
"Damn it… what's this now…"
With his left hand still holding the removed contact lens, his right hand hurriedly wiped the blood from his face, trying to erase the abnormal traces visible. The bleeding had stopped, leaving dry bloodstains around his eyes and cheeks.
Liam stared at his reflection in the mirror—silent, cold, alien.
Those red eyes. That wasn't him. That… was something else.
"I'm not a monster,"
he muttered firmly, more to himself than anyone else. Like a mantra he repeated to stay sane, to feel human.
But that calm lasted only a moment.
Footsteps. Clear in the outer hallway—rhythmic, slow but steady, approaching. Someone was there.
Liam's face grew wary. Panicking, he tried again to put in his contact lenses. But his fingers were still shaking violently. He failed repeatedly, nearly dropping them.
"Damn… hurry, hurry…"
Finally, with great effort, he managed to cover his red eyes. His breath was labored, his body limp. But the footsteps grew closer.
"Oh God… when will this end…"
He bowed his head, trying to steady his breath, then bit his finger—hard. Fresh blood immediately flowed from the deep wound. Liam clenched his teeth, enduring the pain.
"This... will be the perfect excuse..."
He quickly washed his hands, wiping the wound as best he could—just enough to make it look like a normal accident. The wound would explain his bloody hands, his pale face, his trembling body.
And just as he lifted his face from the sink...
Click.
The bathroom door slowly opened. Liam suddenly straightened his body, his breath caught as two figures in dark uniforms stepped inside. The silver NEXARIS emblem was neatly pinned to their left chests—a symbol of power, surveillance, and unquestionable authority.
The first to enter was a man with sleek, silver-black hair combed neatly back. His gaze was sharp, calculated. Liam recognized the man—and did not want to meet him again so soon.
Thiago Lucien.
The agent who had visited him at the hospital. Back then, his words had been gentle… but his eyes always held a cold distance. Not compassion, but a scientific assessment of an "interesting subject."
"Mr. Louren," Thiago said in a calm yet authoritative tone. "We anticipated such reckless actions from you. Therefore, the procedure to implant the tracking device—the internal GPS—was carried out during our first visit to the hospital.
I hope such actions do not recur."
Liam's heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened.
"Bastard… This situation is really bad," he thought to himself. "But… when did he install the GPS?"
His mind began to spin. He lowered his head, averting his gaze to avoid eye contact with him.
Soon, Thiago continued,
"We cannot take risks with individuals like you who have unstable biological potential.
Your presence is a top priority in our regional reports."
Liam couldn't speak. The entire situation was beyond his expectations. If he had known it would be like this, he would have chosen not to go to school today.
The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. A middle-aged man entered the room. His gaze was deep and authoritative. He wore a black uniform with gold stripes on the shoulders, complete with the high-ranking NEXARIS emblem on his chest. His language didn't need to explain who he was—the aura he exuded was enough to make anyone bow their head.
Eren Marcier.
Deputy Head of the Southeast Asia Operations Division, NEXARIS Organization.
"William Louren?" Eren's voice was deep, clear, and firm.
"I hope you understand how far our tolerance has been tested this morning."
His gaze lowered, focusing on the faint bloodstain on Liam's uniform.
Liam, now increasingly aware that the situation was beyond his control, quickly raised his left hand.
"I just got scratched while heading back to class… so I went to the bathroom first, yeah… to clean this wound,"
Liam said. His voice trembled, and each word sounded hesitant and nervous.
Eren looked at the wound for a moment, then back into Liam's eyes—as if trying to penetrate the deepest layers of his mind. But there was no comment. Just a small nod.
Thiago patted Liam on the shoulder. Not too hard, but enough to make him step back.
"Don't cause more trouble. The situation outside is already chaotic enough. Journalists are starting to arrive. Some parents are even nearly storming the principal's office. We don't need additional chaos from an unstable kid."
"We're going back to your classroom," Eren added flatly. "You'll remain under supervision."
Liam only nodded—there was no other choice. His body felt weak, his mind spinning, but one thing was clear:
They would never let him go.
With slow steps and a tense body, Liam walked between the two agents. Thiago was on his right, Eren on his left. They made their way through the school hallway, which was starting to get busy again, though the low murmur of students and teachers could still be heard from various corners.
Some students glanced at them with confused, fearful looks, even stepping back. They knew... if a student was being escorted directly by a NEXARIS official, something major was happening.
Liam didn't utter a single word throughout the journey. His chest still felt tight. In his mind, various possibilities swirled—about his future, about who he truly was, and about the entity beginning to grow within him... something he couldn't even understand himself.
And this time, he felt…
Completely alone.