Chapter 262
Awake (3)
After the medical staff left, the room grew quiet again—only the faint hum of the monitor near the bedside filled the silence. The air still smelled faintly of antiseptic and cool metal.
Yohan stood by the edge of the bed, his thumb still fidgeting against his palm before he finally looked up. His tone was soft. "What exactly happened to you? Why did you suddenly pass out?"
IAM stayed still for a moment, his eyes fixed on the sheets rather than Yohan's face. His thoughts felt tangled, the images of what he'd seen — or thought he'd had — still lingered at the depths of his mind. After a long pause, he finally murmured, "… I don't remember."
The words came out slowly, as if each one had to be pushed past thick mud.
It wasn't something he could just explain. The reason was far too complicated.
And more than that, to tell them the truth would mean opening the door to everything he had hidden.
One of the biggest reasons was the fact that he wasn't from this world at all. Just thinking about saying it aloud felt absurd. He had no idea how they would react if they knew—whether they'd believe him.
He couldn't tell them he wasn't from here.
He didn't know how they would react to something like that.
Would they be scared, seeing him as something foreign, something dangerous that needed to be contained?
Would they take him away somewhere, dissect his mind, his body, just to understand what made him different?
Or worse — would they look at him with pity? With disgust? With awe he didn't deserve?
He didn't know.
No… whatever it was, it wasn't time yet.
He met Yohan's eyes again, his expression was unreadable. The lie was simple, but necessary.
"…I really don't remember," he repeated, quieter this time.
"Hmm." Yohan responded simply, deciding not to push any further.
Reuel dragged a chair closer with a scrape against the floor and plopped himself down beside IAM. A teasing grin spread across his face as he said, "I know the reason why. It's because he was getting his ass absolutely fried at Una! His heart couldn't take it!" He snickered, clearly proud of his own joke.
IAM turned his head toward him and gave a calm, almost tired look. "You are so annoying."
Reuel chuckled, but his grin didn't reach his eyes this time. Something about IAM felt different. He was the same as always, yet not quite the same.
Reuel couldn't describe it, but when he looked into IAM's deep, dark eyes, he felt that same strange pull again—an unexplainable magnetism that seemed to draw people in without effort.
There was something about the way IAM that gave off an aura of someone completely unfettered by the world around him.
It was unsettling and comforting all at once. Being near him made you feel oddly calm, yet somewhere in that calm was an undertone that pushed you away, a quiet warning that said don't get too close.
But now… now there was something else. Something new lurking beneath. In those same dark eyes that once seemed empty, there was depth—like a pond concealing something vast and dangerous beneath the surface. The emptiness hadn't disappeared. It was still there, but it no longer sat in plain view. It was submerged, hidden behind calm waters that seemed too still to be natural.
Now, as Reuel kept his eyes on IAM, a strange feeling began to stir deep within him—faint at first, like a ripple underwater. It grew the longer he stared, creeping up from somewhere he couldn't name until it settled uneasily in his chest.
It took him a moment to recognize it. Fear.
It was weak, almost imperceptible, but it was there—an instinctive, primal kind of fear that had no reason to exist. He could feel it like a whisper in the back of his mind, warning him of something he didn't understand.
Reuel swallowed hard and forced a quiet breath, shivering inwardly as he tried to shake the feeling off. What the hell am I thinking? he thought. This was IAM—his friend. There was no reason to feel like this. None at all.
Yet, even as he tried to dismiss it, his lips moved almost on their own, the question slipping out before he could stop it.
"Are you… really IAM?"
IAM's eyes narrowed, a sly smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he replied with a sarcastic tone, "No… I'm Liam."
The others chuckled, a little awkwardly, but even in their laughter, they couldn't entirely ignore what Reuel had felt. They too felt there was something different about IAM now.
Henry felt it. When you meet someone, you naturally get impressions—comfort, unease, curiosity, distrust, safety, tension, attraction, caution.
There's a natural intuition about another person's presence. Usually, with IAM, Henry never felt much at all. IAM was like a closed book, unreadable and detached. He could sense no danger, warmth or threat.
But it was because of this one can feel comfortable and uneasy around him.
But now… it was different. There was an undercurrent of something he couldn't name—a faint, prickling sense of danger, just enough to unsettle but not alarm. It wasn't strong enough to make him recoil, but it was undeniably there, coiling quietly beneath the surface. It was mpossible to read—like standing on the edge of a cliff where the wind was soothing but hide the drop.
It was strange, unfamiliar… yet strangely magnetic.
Yohan also felt the same subtle unease, the faint prickling awareness that IAM had changed in some imperceptible way.
As they spoke, they informed IAM that he had missed the entire day, lessons slipping past him while he was unconscious. Yet, as Reuel had already hinted with his characteristic half-smile, they were generous enough to share some of what they had learned, helping him catch up despite everything.
Gradually, the tension between them eased. The subtle unease melted away as conversation turned lighter, filled with small jokes and easy banter. Eventually, it was time for them to leave. With a few parting words and casual goodbyes, they stepped out, leaving IAM alone in the quiet room.
He looked around, shaking his head slightly, a wry thought flickering through his mind—was he doomed to always end up back in a hospital bed, no matter where he went?
But the thought quickly passed. His gaze hardened, shifting toward matters that truly demanded his attention.