The sun poured into the villa through half-drawn curtains, brushing over tiled floors and tangled limbs. Outside, the sound of waves danced with seabirds.
Sam was still asleep, bare body , a blessing to Sage's eyes. Then a notification popped in his phone.
Eros
>Come to the house. Your father wants to dine together.
>Can you also bring Felton with you? He is not answering my calls.
Sage didn't reply. He called. And Eros picked up in a second.
On the phone.
Eros: Ah, son. Did I disturbed you early in the morning?
Sage didn't say anything at first. The word 'son' he still just can't get used to.
Sage in his deep voice, " No. Dad. "
Such a familiar word yet it's so unknown. " I woke up anyway. "
Eros: That's good then. Your father wanted to have dinner together. Is your vacation over? Can you come over to the Villa?
Sage knows fully well why his old man wants to meet him. Of course that old fox got hints of 'him' as in Sam. Apollo sent his spies in this vacation too. Sage was being careful but hah! Sam was the only thing he didn't want that man to know.
Sage: Sure. I'll be there.
Eros: Please bring Felton with you too.
Sage: Don't worry I'll drag him with me.
Eros(laughed a bit) : Thank you, son.
He hung up.
Sage now looked at Sam who was asleep so peacefully not knowing what's coming next. Sage stood up from the bed. Vacation is over. He needed to head back now. He again looked back. His body is refusing to leave Sam... He leaned in. A soft kiss on cheeks and smelled him like Sam is his salvation. And left.
The clock almost hit 11 when Sam finally woke up.
Sam sat up slowly. The white sheet barely clung to his hips.
His body ached. His mind buzzed.
Not with guilt.
But with confusion.
Sage wasn't beside him. Of course not.
Instead, on the nightstand sat a glass of water… and a black shirt. Not Sam's but still warm and familiar.
Sam touched it. His hand paused halfway. Then he pulled it over his head—
Sage's scent wrapped around him like silk.
_______
Jean stared at his reflection.
Not because he didn't recognize the face in the mirror—
But because for the first time, he saw it.
The truth had finally come into focus.
All of it. And it felt like the world was crumbling beneath his feet.
He'd always suspected something was wrong.
Now, he knew.
And it wasn't just about his parents' deaths.
It was about what they'd done.
"Should I help Sage?"
"If I do... does that make me like him?"
The photos on his phone were still there.
Proof. Weight. Finality.
He hadn't deleted them. Hadn't shown them to anyone.
But now he knew.
Behind him, Rai's white shirt from last night hung over a chair.
He hadn't stayed, but he'd left the shirt on purpose.
Then—
A knock.
Jean turned, expecting Jake. Maybe Rai.
But no.
The man standing in the doorway was neither of them.
It was Sage.
Dressed too sharply for the morning, smug as ever. Leaning against the corridor wall, arms crossed, like he owned the world.
Jean's expression didn't change. His glare was a wall.
Sage:
"You going to invite me in, or should I invite myself?"
Jean (coldly):
"Leave."
Sage (grinning):
"Thank you for having me, dear."
And just like that, he walked in.
Sage's eyes swept over the room.
The messy bed. The shirt. The silence.
He took a seat, crossed one leg over the other, and smirked like the devil on his throne.
Sage:
"So... had an eventful night?"
Jean snapped.
Jean:
"Why?! Why did you let me see that? Why show me the truth?!"
He stepped forward, fists clenched.
Jean:
"Why didn't you save them?! Why didn't you stop my parents from making that deal with you?! Why the fuck is Hans still alive?! You kept him alive, didn't you?!"
The rage poured out of him. The grief.
Every wound, cracked wide open.
Sage's smirk slowly faded.
Sage (quietly):
"The first time I saw you, Jean…
You were fighting demons in a hospital bed.
Half-dead. And I saved you."
Jean was shaking.
Jean:
"Then why didn't you just kill me then?!"
Sage:
"Because there was nothing to gain from killing you.
But there was something to gain by hiring Mr. and Mrs. Arison.
Quite competent, those two."
Jean lunged.
Grabbed Sage's collar with a guttural growl.
Jean:
"Shut up!"
Sage (mocking):
"Oh my, my. Didn't your absent parents teach you not to grab your elders like that?"
Crack!
Jean punched him. Blood bloomed at the corner of Sage's lip.
In an instant, Sage retaliated—
Choking Jean, slamming him into the wall.
The air thinned. Jean struggled.
Sage's eyes burned.
Sage (low):
"I warned them not to trust Hans. But they did. And they paid the price."
Jean (gasping):
"I already killed him... why is he still alive?!"
Sage:
"You didn't. You were sloppy.
He didn't die in that frost forest. He escaped."
Jean froze.
Sage released him.
Stepped back, watching Jean suck in breath.
Jean (hoarse):
"Then why involve Rai? What does he have to do with your games?"
Sage tilted his head.
Sage:
"You know the rule—No free lunch."
He walked forward again. Not menacing now, but measured.
Like a professor explaining a principle.
Sage:
"If someone creates something useful to you, it has value.
And you compensate the creator."
He gestured slowly. Casually.
Sage:
"I created the stage where Rai could kill his 'waste of space' father.
Now it's time to repay me. Simple, right?"
Jean was breathless. Disgusted.
Sage:
"Same goes for you, Jean.
Didn't I also create the stage where you could kill Hans?"
It clicked.
Jean stared.
Jean:
"You… you kept Hans alive… on purpose."
Sage (smirking again):
"Very good. Now you're thinking like me."
Jean (darkly):
"You want to take over BETA."
Sage (smug):
"Ah. So Rai has been talking."
Jean's stomach turned. He hated that smile.
Sage:
"I need your skills, Jean."
Jean narrowed his eyes.
Jean:
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Sage leaned in—
And whispered:
Sage:
"Mr. Z."
Jean shoved him back, shocked.
Jean:
"How—how the fuck?!"
Sage:
"You really thought you could hack into my birthday party… blow it up, cause a scene… and I wouldn't figure it out?"
Mr. Z.
His secret hacker alias. His digital mask. Gone.
Sage grinned wider now, arms spread like a stage actor.
Sage:
"So, let's raise the curtain again.
A new act. A new play."
He paused—then announced it:
Sage:
"Project SPEED."
Jean's blood ran cold.
That name.
That project.
The one they were chasing. Researching.
It was for Apollo?
Jean:
"You… you're insane."
Sage (softly):
"Some people dream.
Some wish.
And then there are people like me—
Who rip success from fate's hands by force."
Bang!
The door flew open.
Rai.
Furious.
Rai:
"Enough! I let you in. That doesn't mean you get to put hands on him!"
Sage turned, mock surrender.
Sage:
"Oops."
He raised his hands like he was innocent.
Before leaving, he turned once more.
His voice colder. Harder.
Sage:
"And don't involve Sam."
That tone.
It wasn't a request. It was a threat dressed in ice.
Sage stepped out and disappeared down the hallway.
Silence.
Jean stood frozen, breath shallow.
Jean (quietly):
"Who does he think he is? Ordering people around. Controlling Sam like that.
It's Sam's choice."
Rai didn't respond.
He knew Sage meant it. Knew how far he'd go.
A storm had just passed through.
Jean felt like he'd aged twenty years in those twenty minutes.
Rai wrapped his arms around him from behind.
Soft kisses to his neck. A grounding touch.
Because soon, the vacation would end.
And peace…
It will be over.
________
The sun draped the beach in warm gold, casting glimmers over turquoise waves that rolled in softly, teasing the shoreline. Laughter echoed across the sand, splashes and shrieks blending with the cries of seagulls overhead. From afar, it looked perfect — twenty-something students lost in a moment of freedom, joy rippling through the ocean breeze.
But seven of them knew better.
Rai, Rowon, Felton, and Sage were already gone — vanished with the tide that morning, their absence as loud as thunder to those who noticed.
And even among the fun — the games, the teasing, the sunburns — a shadow lingered. The beach was beautiful, but their minds were far from it. Especially Sam.
He lay on the sand, half-buried under his wide straw hat, his sunglasses hiding the storm in his eyes. His body was here, stretched under the sun. But his mind? Nowhere near the waves.
Jean approached after a short swim, droplets still clinging to his skin. He crouched beside Sam and lifted the hat from his face, letting sunlight strike Sam's closed lids.
Jean: "Why are you here alone? Come join us."
Sam (without looking): "Not in the mood."
Jean didn't get to reply.
From behind, Jake pounced — grabbing Sam's leg. Ray and Juli swooped in, one taking each arm, cackling like gremlins. Then, without hesitation, Issac added the final push, and they all dragged Sam — thrashing, cursing — straight into the ocean.
His scream was swallowed by waves and laughter. For a brief moment, he smiled too.
That peace lasted all of two hours.
When it was finally time to board the plane, everyone looked… drained. Not just physically — but emotionally hollow, as if the beach hadn't offered a break, but a battleground. Wounds invisible. Scars still forming.
At the airport...
Prez (groaning): "Finally! This fucking trip is over."
Juli: "Trip? This felt like serving in active combat."
Ray: "Relaxation was clearly something we forgot to pack."
Jake: "Don't be dramatic. The war's just getting started."
Miana didn't even speak. Just rested her head on her suitcase, half asleep.
Sam stayed quiet too.
He stared at his phone. Screen dim. Four messages unread.
> where are you?
why did you leave without telling me?
>you fucker. why did you choke jean. i'll kill you.
>Ignoring me? huh? bastard.
All left on seen by no one.
Sam exhaled slowly.
Because deep down, he already knew. That bastard Sage — he wasn't ignoring him. He was playing with his mind. But a little emotion he couldn't name. Is he done with me?
Sam swallowed, bitter. What are we? he wondered. A mistake? A weakness? A fucking experiment?
But the answer was already written on his skin. In the bruises, the scent that still clung to him. In the silence Sage left behind.
His body. His soul. His obsession — already sold.
The entire flight, Sam fought a war in silence, chained to emotions he couldn't name.
The others dozed off, worn out. Miana slumped into Ray. Prez clutched Jean's hoodie like a lifeline. Jake was snoring two rows back.
Jean sat by the window, cheek pressed to the cool glass.
The vacation was over.
But the game?
It had only just begun.