"How is he, Doctor?"
"He's stable now. Just needs a little rest. But... if you could step outside with me for a moment."
The sound of warped voices echoed inside Isaac's ears, distorted, distant, like underwater murmurs.
He opened his eyes slowly. Blurred vision greeted him, the ache in his skull pulsing like a drumbeat behind his temples.
Through the haze, he saw Patricia speaking with an elderly man in a black suit. Their silhouettes moved toward the door, then disappeared beyond it.
Even from outside, Isaac could hear fragments of their conversation bleeding through the walls:
"It's bad..."
"Inexplicably bad..."
"I'm going to..."
"Run some tests..."
"Not sleeping well..."
"Trauma..."
"Brain migraine..."
"Tumor..."
He shut his eyes again, and tears slipped silently down his cheeks, soaking into the pillow.
Moments later, the door creaked open. Footsteps, slow, deliberate, approached his bedside.
He heard someone crying softly. Then warm, trembling hands found his, and tears, undeniably hers, dripped onto his skin.
"Oh Isaac... what happened to you out there?" Patricia's voice cracked. "You must be suffering so much. And instead of easing your pain, I made it worse by fighting with you..."
"This is all my fault. I'm so sorry... I'm sorry..." she sobbed.
Isaac's heart clenched. That unbearable ache always returned when his Sweeches cried, especially because of him. He had sworn never to let her shed another tear after all the heart-rending pain she'd endured in her life. But now, here she was... crying. Because of him. Because of that bloody cursed thing he touched.
That damn thing. What was it?
Ever since he laid hands on it, the dreams had started, twisted, vivid, and relentless. They kept him awake, trapped between confusion and skull-splitting agony.
And the blue veins... those grotesque, glowing lines. Had his blood turned blue? What was that thing doing to him? And how could he stop it?
"Urrr... urrr..."
Isaac groaned as the pain surged again, thoughts spiraling into chaos. He knew he'd stirred something dark...brewed a storm he couldn't contain. But he needed answers. Even if his mind held none, he couldn't stop searching.
Then, just like that... the pain began to fade. As if the storm had passed. Two warm hands massaged his temples...gentle, soothing, like healing balms poured into his skull.
And for a moment... it felt nice. Almost peaceful.
"Shh… shh… it's okay. It's alright. Don't think about anything, okay? Just calm down. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. Shhh… it's okay," Patricia whispered, her voice soft as silk as she massaged Isaac's head.
His breathing slowed, each inhale gentler than the last, until it became clear—he'd fallen asleep.
The door creaked open slightly. Alisha peered in, then stepped inside quietly, her presence like a hush in the room.
"How is he?" she whispered.
Patricia looked up, her eyes glassy with tears.
"He… just fell asleep," she sniffled.
"He's in so much pain, Ali. And I can't help but feel… like it's all my fault."
"Hey… hey. Don't say that," Alisha said gently, placing a comforting hand on Patricia's arm. "It's not your fault. I'm sure it's going to be okay. What did the doctor say?"
Patricia wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, steadying herself.
"Let's talk outside," she murmured.
She leaned down, gently repositioned Isaac's head on the pillow, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Then, with one last glance, she walked out of the room with Alisha.
.....
In the kitchen
The scent of herbal tea drifted through the air as Alisha poured it into a delicate cup and handed it to Patricia.
"Here… this'll help you calm down a bit," she said softly.
Patricia offered a faint smile and took the cup. "Thanks."
Alisha settled into the chair opposite her, the kitchen table between them like a quiet barrier.
Patricia took a slow, measured sip, then exhaled shakily.
"The doctor said it's bad," she began.
"Isaac hasn't been sleeping well for a while. But it's not insomnia. The doctor said something is keeping him awake—something he can't explain. He's hoping more tests will give him answers soon. Because if this continues… Isaac could be at high risk of developing a brain tumor. And a tumor without a known cause could be… untreatable."
Her voice cracked as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Alisha reached across the table and took her hand.
"Oh my gosh, Patricia. I am so sorry. Poor Isaac. He must be suffering so much. But… I don't understand. How can the cause be unexplainable? What else could keep someone awake like that if it's not insomnia? I mean, insomnia is the illness caused by lack of sleep—but if this is something else, something that leads to a tumor…"
Patricia shook her head, wiping her tears. "I don't know. I have no idea what to do. I can't bear to see him in pain, Ali. And knowing it's all my fault—for involving him in all this —I just… I can't."
She broke down, her voice trembling. "Why is life so cruel to me? Why?"
Alisha rose and wrapped her arms around her sister.
"It's okay, Sis. Don't carry this alone. Everything is going to be fine. Isaac's strong—a fighter. He's faced death before and survived. He'll survive this too. You two were kept apart for so long, but now that you've found each other again, fate won't tear you apart in such a painful way like this. Not now."
Patricia leaned into the embrace, then slowly pulled back. "Thank you, Ali. I truly hope and pray everything will be okay. Because I can't lose him. He's the only man who pulled me out of the storm—out of pain and heartache—in such a short time. I don't know why, but I feel complete with him. Like he's another piece of me. Without him, I'm not whole. I'm incomplete. I've never felt this before. It's like...Isaac and I have this...unexplainable connection like..like we are not just lovers but we are destined...you know. Like we're destined. It might sound crazy, but it's real. And I can't bear to see him suffer. Especially because of me. I am the one who involved him in this whole mess with Montenegra. And now...he is paying for it and in the worst way. It's just too much...Ali. Just to much. "
Alisha gently wiped her tears with her thumbs.
"Hey, Sis. We're going to get through this. Isaac needs you strong—not just for him, but for yourself. You've got the big race in a few days. How do you think he'll feel if you show up broken? This is the moment we've all worked for—to prove you're the champion Dad always saw in you. What Isaac, Zach, Nicole, Philip, and I know you are.
I know it's sudden and hard to process, but crying won't fix it. Be alive. Be the sister, girlfriend, and friend who fights for us. Now that we know what Isaac's facing, it's only a matter of time before we find the right treatment. He will be okay. And we will get justice. We'll wipe those bastards off their glory seats and celebrate in victory. But we can't do that if you act like it's the end of the world."
Both women chuckled lightly.
"That's true," Patricia said, her smile returning. "I guess my somber mood would only drag our plans face-first into the mud. And I really don't want that to happen."
"See? That's the spirit!" Alisha grinned. "We want this to be a success, so no gloomy vibes allowed. We should be cheerful—especially with the thought of how we're going to crush our enemies. They messed with the wrong girls. The Milton daughters are not to be trifled with. Otherwise—" she kicked her leg out dramatically, "—you get the boot and land face-first in horse dung!"
Patricia laughed. "Ha! You're truly something else, aren't you? I guess our enemies won't know what hit them until they're rolling in the dung—and we'll be too busy laughing at their messy defeat."
"Exactly. And I'll enjoy every second of it," Alisha said with a wink.
Patricia's laughter faded into a soft sigh. "Thank you, Ali. I really needed that. With Isaac's sudden condition… I didn't know what to think or feel anymore. I kept blaming myself, thinking I was the cause of his pain. But now I realize—we're in this together. It's not our fault that cruel people exist in this world. So instead of wallowing, I should be planning our next move, to get justice and bring all our enemies to ruin. So that they would pay for everything they did us. And I'll find Isaac's treatment, too—so he can go back to being my annoying, cocky, handsome secret agent boyfriend. Thank you. Truly."
Alisha smiled warmly. "It's okay, Patty. That's what sisters are for—to turn each other's frowns upside-down. And hey… everything's going to be fine. Trust me. Isaac did a lot for you before you even knew him. I think it's only fair you do the same for him now."
Patricia's brow lifted. "Wait..what do you mean, Isaac did a lot for me before I knew him? What are you talking about? I only met Isaac three months ago. Are you saying he knew me before that?"
'Shoot. Shit.' Alisha cursed inwardly, realizing her slip. It seems that Isaac still had not told Patricia that he knew her before they officially met three months ago and she just unknowingly spilled the beans.
Patricia's gaze sharpened, confusion and suspicion swirling in her eyes.
"Answer me, Ali. What do you mean Isaac knew me before we met three months ago? And what other things did he do for me? Tell me!"
Alisha swallowed hard, then forced a nervous chuckle to feign ignorance and stir away the storm.
"Wait—what? I said that? No… I meant, Isaac must've done a lot for you before and you met. Like… before that day at the cemetery, when he saved you from being shot. I mean, he must've been tailing you for a while, right? Like you know.. protecting you from the shadows or something. I mean...before officially introducing himself to you, of course."
She laughed awkwardly, hoping the deflection would land.
Patricia's frown deepened. Her eyebrow arched again.
"Riiight…"
'Those were a lot of "I mean"s in your statements, Alisha'. Patricia thought, watching Alisha fidget slightly. 'And I've known you long enough to know—you never repeat yourself like that unless you're lying to me. What exactly are you hiding? Why are you keeping it from me? Don't worry, I will get it out of you...one way or another'.
She was about to press her for the truth when—
Buzz. Buzz.
Her phone vibrated.
She glanced at the screen. Unknown number.
Raising an eyebrow, she looked at Alisha, then answered.
"Hello…"
Nothing. There was silence at the other end except for the sound of howling wind.
She looked at Alisha bewildered before putting the call on speaker. "Hello? Who is this?"
Silence.
"Hello…"
Still nothing.
Then—
A low, hollow voice echoed through the speaker, speaking in a strange, eerie language:
"Vireth'ka naruun. Thal'esh vorran. Esh'kai ul'veth. Thal'esh vorran. Chronalis'ven drak'tor, vel'ash doomar… doomar… doomar!"
(The Race has come. You're in danger. The awakening has begun. You're in danger. Destroy the Chronalis or you're all doomed… doomed… doomed!!)
RUMBLE!!!
SPARK!!
"Aaaah!!"
Both women screamed as thunder cracked violently overhead. A kitchen appliance plug sparked, short-circuited, and curled with smoke.
They clutched their chests, faces pale with panic.
Slowly, they turned to face each other, breathless.
Then their eyes dropped to Patricia's phone.
The call had ended.
But what chilled them to the bone was the screen, there was no caller ID. No record that the call was made a few moments ago. No trace.
Nothing.
It was as if the call… had never happened.
"What the hell was that…" Alisha muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rumble. Rumble.
Thunder growled again—deeper, darker, unnatural but at a far away distance unlike it sounded a few moments ago.
One thing was certain.
This was not good.