"What are you scared about?" Jacques's eyes seemed to come back to life the moment he saw the stairs. He ran to the railing and looked over the cliff.
"Ethan, this is so cool!"
Then he stepped down the stairs, peering over the edge with curiosity, not even caring whether he might fall or not.
Meanwhile, Ethan leaned against the wall, staying as far away from the railing as possible—trying to avoid acknowledging the fact that he was on a cliff, with a deep drop below and a bigallow nest waiting at the bottom.
"Ethan!" Jacques called out.
He was no longer even on the stairs—but standing on the railing!
Ethan rested his head against the wall, trying to calm himself. Relax. It's just stairs. There's no cliff, no height. I'm safe. Ignore that crazy Jacques imagination!
Yeah, that had to be it—Jacques wasn't really there. Just a figment of Ethan's imagination. Maybe because he knew Jacques so well, he could vividly imagine what Jacques would do if he were the one facing these stairs.
Even on the day they hiked Mount Hegs—knowing Ethan's acrophobia—Jacques couldn't resist teasing him, pulling stunts that triggered Ethan's fear. Like hanging from the branch of a tree that stretched four meters over a waterfall, for example. It was enough to make Ethan feel like he was about to die just from looking at it, but Jacques only laughed like it was child's play.
"Get down here already!" Ethan shouted, panicking.
The branch made a third cracking sound, pushing Ethan further into oblivion—but Jacques just looked even more entertained.
Eventually, Jacques dropped from the branch and rejoined him by the riverbank, where they both sat down.
"I get it, you're brave—no need to flex!" Ethan was clearly upset.
"Hey, if the branch snapped, I'd just fall into the water. Not that bad," Jacques said casually, rolling up his pants and taking off his footwear.
To Ethan, falling into the water meant a trip to the ER; to Jacques, it was no different than a water park ride.
"You know I have acrophobia, and that's why hiking is—" Ethan cut himself off. He didn't want to make it sound like he hated this trip or that he was only doing it out of obligation. Of course, he hated the height—especially when they were near cliffs—but sharing this moment with Jacques still made it more precious than all the scary parts.
"Sounds like somebody regrets this trip," Jacques teased, leaning toward Ethan with a playful smirk, like he was daring him to finish his sentence.
"Hiking is what?" he pressed, leaning even closer, fully aware that Ethan's shyness would dissolve his bad mood all on its own.
"Give me space," Ethan said, unable to hide the rush of oxytocin flooding his brain as he pushed Jacques away—though there was no real force behind it.
Jacques was right. As he leaned close to Ethan's ear, Ethan blushed—and just like that, his irritation melted away.
"I like it when you're nagging," Jacques said, kissing his cheek.
Ethan turned to meet his eyes, ready with a comeback, but instead, he simply pushed Jacques's face away. "I'm not your mom, you hear me?"
Still, a quiet thought crept in.
One day, when Jacques would be out there among the stars, chasing thrilling adventures far more dangerous than cliffs, waterfalls, or tree branches… what could Ethan do then?
If Jacques chose to do something even riskier, Ethan wouldn't be able to stop him.
He'd just have to let him go.
Because Jacques was meant to be in places Ethan couldn't follow.
And when that day comes, there will be no one left to look after Ethan—to protect him with their strength or guide him with their smarts. He'll have to learn how to be brave on his own, how to protect himself. So that even without Jacques by his side, he can survive.
That's why the stairs of Hamman Village felt like a test for Ethan—a chance to prove to Jacques that he would be okay without him. That he could face his fears, stand on his own, and survive. He would make it. He will be fine.
***
DREAM
It was the bunker dream again.But this time, it wasn't a simulation made by LUCY. It was his own dream—the world he always visited.
A place where his name was Jared.A boy working in the underground bunker, humanity's last refuge after the nuclear war destroyed the world.
The air outside was toxic. Anyone who breathed it would turn into a mutant. That's why, whenever someone needed to leave the bunker, they had to wear an oxygen mask—like a firefighter.
People only went out when it was necessary: to collect mushrooms, mutant samples, or herbs. And if someone wanted to leave independently, they had to submit a form and give a strong reason.
Jared picked up a form, wrote down his data, and under the reason section, he wrote:"I need to find my mentor who got lost in the woods."
He was soon summoned by the supervisor.
"When did he get lost in the woods?" the man asked.
Jared tried to remember. He wasn't sure. "I think… a few days ago."
"If he's been gone for more than 14 hours, he's probably run out of oxygen. That means he's already dead. Forget it." The supervisor tore the form in half and moved on to other paperwork.
"He's alive," Jared insisted.
"Who says he's alive?" The supervisor didn't even look up, busy filling out evaluation reports for the bunker workers.
"I believe he is. He's tough. He wouldn't go down that easily. And even if he didn't survive—I want to find his body and give him a proper burial."
"Still no. Now get back to your job. You're the electricity guy, right? It's laundry day for you. Go back downstairs," the supervisor barked, waving him off.
But rejection wasn't going to stop him.Jared sneaked a look at the patrol schedule—it was Nobert's turn to go out today.
He found Nobert in the cafeteria with his usual group, playing dominoes and betting food.
Jared caught his eye and signaled that he needed to talk. Nobert ignored him, too focused on the game, cheering when he won.
Jared had enough. He grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away.
"Hey, hey! What are you doing?!" Nobert struggled, surprised that Jared was strong enough to do that.
The other men at the table stood up, ready to jump in."What do you want, kid?"
"I just want to talk to him," Jared said and dragged Nobert away.
The group sat back down, but their eyes stayed sharp on Jared.
"What is it? I'm busy!" Nobert grunted.
"It's your turn to patrol, isn't it?" Jared asked, keeping his voice low. He didn't want anyone else to hear.
"So what if it is?"
"I'll take your shift—" Jared began, but Nobert cut him off.
"No way, bro. I'll get punished. It's my turn today!"
Jared shoved him lightly against the wall to keep him from walking off. "Listen. I'll pretend to be you. We wear full gas masks and suits—they won't know."
Nobert narrowed his eyes. He was suspicious, of course. No one would volunteer to patrol for free. It was dangerous—people sometimes never came back.
"What's in it for you? Why would you wanna risk your life out there under my name?"
"I need to look for my mentor. He went missing. If he's really dead, I want to find his body and give him a proper burial. Please."
Nobert studied him. Then sighed. "Alright. But don't do anything stupid, you hear me? You're doing this under my name. I don't want to get into trouble for helping you."
He dug into his pocket and handed Jared a key.
It was for his locker—inside were his patrol uniform and tools.
"You won't. Don't worry." Jared snatched the key and left.
Just as he was putting on Nobert's gear, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Jared turned—
—and caught a sucker punch to the face.
The blow knocked him out instantly.
As the world went black, he barely heard a voice. His attacker was taking the tools off him, returning them to Nobert's locker.
"You think you can leave?" The voice was familiar. Cold. Protective.
"Don't even think about it. You're dumb, Jared. That's why I have to protect you—tightly—from the danger you keep chasing."
The man lifted Jared over his shoulder and carried him back to his room.
It was The Shadow.