'...whoever believes in him shall not die, but have eternal life...' John 3:16
The tile was cold against his cheek. He felt the tremble in his fingertips before he even tried to move. His pulse was thudding behind his eyes, and for a moment, he couldn't tell if he'd screamed in real life or only in his mind.
But he was alive. Not infected. Not dead. Not yet.
He pushed himself up... elbows slipping once, palms raw against the tiles. His shirt was partially soaked from the cold water on the ceramic. He grunted as he reached for his cane.
He limped slowly out of the bathroom, shoulder grazing the wall for balance. When he turned the corner into the bedroom, Michael was still sitting upright on the bed.
"What the hell was that?" Michael asked, voice shaky.
Inak didn't respond at first. He exhaled through his nose, took a long step forward, then another.
Michael blinked hard. "That scream—what was that?!"
Inak tossed the small sonic buzzer onto the bed. It bounced, then rolled to a stop near Michael's feet.
"I thought I might've been infected," Inak said, tone flat. "That thing—if you're carrying the parasite and you use it too close to the brainstem… it'll kill you."
Michael paled. "Why throw it to me?! Jesus—!"
Michael stared at the device like it was a ticking bomb.
Inak paused.
"Huh... You spent days wishing you were dead—now you're upset I handed you the shortcut?"
"I'll leave it here," he said calmly. "I'll be heading out… You won't be the only one infected for long."
Michael's eyes widened.
"If you want to end it," Inak continued, his voice quiet but steady, "now's your chance." A slow, unsettling smile crept across his face.
He moved smoothly, putting on a clean shirt, buttoning it up to the collar. A dark suit coat followed. He adjusted the sleeves, slipped on his watch, and finally took up his cane. Everything he did felt ceremonial. Like he had been preparing for this moment a long time.
He opened the bedroom door, light casting a sharp line across the floor.
"Farewell, Michael," he said without looking back.
And then… he stepped out.
---
The sun shone relentlessly, casting long shadows beneath the city's stone and steel.
Inak slid into the driver's seat and closed the door with a soft click. He glanced at his watch: 12:44—peak working hour. It was time.
With a steady breath, he gripped the steering wheel. Today is the day of the crucifixion.
The sacrifice of the Messiah, who gave all so that believers can have the gift of eternal life. He saw himself walking a similar path—a modern-day Christ.
He started the engine and moved forward. The city bustled around him, unaware that today the world would shift. Today, the first step toward redemption would be taken.
---
The department building grew larger in his view as he approached. When he reached the parking lot, he stopped.
He reached for the cane beside his left leg and clicked the car door open.
Stepping out, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and looked up at the imposing sign above the entrance: Hillius Institution of Medical Research.
A faint smile flickered across his lips. "Pfuh…"
He walked forward and pushed through the main doors. Students meandered through the halls, some pausing to glance at him with curiosity — after all, he hadn't set foot here in almost two months.
The receptionist spotted him and stepped forward. "Doctor Inak?" she asked, surprise clear in her voice. "Is there a reason for your visit?"
Inak nodded. "I have a meeting with the board. But I'll need to collect some things from my old office first."
"Absolutely," she replied with a smile.
Inak made his way toward his office — or rather, just past it, to the staff kitchen. The room was quiet, empty except for a counter with a few bottles of water and tea prepared for the staff.
He grabbed three bottles, quietly slipping a small, colorless pill into each. The eggs were invisible to the naked eye — odorless, tasteless, and nearly undetectable unless someone looked very carefully.
And then he waited.
---
The kitchen door opened and a woman came in. She was in her mid-forties, with short black hair and slow, tired movements. She looked like she had been worn down by years of work nobody noticed. Inak saw her as nothing more than a fixture of the kitchen, a wasted life destined to serve, unremarked and unremarkable.
He gave her a polite smile. "Hello, Frishna. Could you do me a favor? I need these bottles taken to the boardroom. I can't carry them with my bag, and I have a meeting there soon. I'd appreciate your help."
"Of course, sir. No problem," she said without hesitation.
She gathered the bottles and three whiskey glasses onto a tray and started toward the boardroom. Inak followed behind, dragging his cane quietly on the floor, his mind already focused on the next step.
They approached a heavy wooden double door. Frishna pushed it open, revealing a spacious room with a large round table dominating the center. The walls were lined with framed certificates, plaques, and other achievements of the department. Bold letters on one wall read: HIMR — Hillius Institute of Medical Research.
Around the table sat four members:
Dr. Lence Seasonson, head of cancer research and Inak's former boss.
Dr. Sherie Jarper, a tall Swedish woman with blond hair and piercing blue eyes. She was the lead of the Cardiovascular Sciences Division and owner of the institute.
Professor Kenji Takahashi, an Asian professor in his sixties, with long white hair just brushing his shoulders. He specialized in neurodegenerative disorders — a quiet intellect carrying decades of experience.
And the fourth, soon-to-be member, Melody Christiadi. She sat at the table next to Lence.
Melody looked at Inak, eyes narrowing in confusion. She thought he had turned down the offer. But here he was, standing in front of them.
Inak's eyes flicked to Melody, surprised to see her now a sub-member of the board. He stepped slowly toward her seat just as Frishna was setting the glasses on the table. Melody was the closest.
As Frishna reached to place a bottle beside Melody, Inak quietly raised his hand, gently stopping her.
"Please… serve the board members first," he said softly.
Frishna nodded without a word, placing the glasses in front of the main board members.
Inak settled into the chair beside Melody, now facing the three senior members.
Frishna turned to the board. "Would anyone like some coffee?"
Lence nodded. "I'll have tea, thank you."
Frishna glanced at Melody. "Water for you, Doctor Christiadi?"
She gave a slight smile. "Yes, please."
Just as Frishna turned to leave, Inak's voice called softly, "Thank you, Frishna."
He barely turned his head toward her.
She nodded quietly and slipped out of the room.
...
Inak's gaze swept the room as he settled in. Then, breaking the silence, he said, "You wanted to see me, did you not?"
Kenji nodded, voice steady. "After almost two months of disappearance, we still aren't sure if you're truly back, Doctor. But your colleague here insists the department needs you."
Sherie leaned forward slightly, her tone almost warm. "You were a prodigy, Inak. For someone so young, you've achieved more than most in three lifetimes. You were an asset to this institution. After learning about your mother, I understand your absence. I'm willing to offer you a second chance."
Kenji reached for his glass, pouring water deliberately. "I've reconsidered your position as well. The replacement isn't meeting expectations. I'm prepared to give you that chance back." Inak's eyes followed the glass closely until Kenji took a sip. Good, Inak thought, I needed data on elder hosts.
Lence spoke next."I've considered your return too, Inak. No grudges here. I'm willing to offer you another chance."
As Lence finished, Inak's gaze shifted to Sherie's glass. She took a long, slow sip. A female host wouldn't be bad either, he mused silently, before turning back to Lence.
Inak looked down at the floor, then lifted his head and Leaned forward, a wide smile revealing all his teeth and his eyes gleaming with intensity, "No, you've got it all wrong. I'm not here to return to my old position..."
He paused. "I'm asking for my own department."
Melody leaned close, whispering sharply, "What... the hell are you thinking?"
Inak met her gaze, saying nothing.
Kenji's lips pressed thin, shaking his head slightly. "That's bold, Inak. Beggars can't be choosers. I'm barely reconsidering your return—and now you demand this?"
Inak let out a slight laugh...
"Beggars?" he repeated, tilting his head. "Kenji, you mistake absence for desperation."
He leaned back in his chair, resting both hands on his cane. "I'm not here to beg. I'm here to offer."
Lence narrowed his eyes. "Offer what, exactly?"
Inak's smile didn't fade. "Progress. Results. A proposal that will take this institution further than it's ever imagined."
Melody's hands tensed slightly on her lap.
"And what exactly does that entail?" Sherie asked, her tone sharpening.
Inak's eyes met hers. "I'll present it. In time. All I need… is space, equipment, and full control over my department."
He glanced around the room—measuring their skepticism, watching every blink, every movement.
"If you say no, that's fine," he added. "But eventually, you'll see. Either you let me lead it here, or I'll build it somewhere else. And when you realize what it is… you'll wish you had listened."
He tapped the cane lightly against the floor.
Lence leaned back slightly, lifting his glass. "We can't just hand you a department, Inak. You know that. What is this even about? Show us something—results, data—anything worth considering." Then he brought the glass to his lips... and drank.
Just then, the door opened.
Frishna stepped in, carefully balancing a tray with a bottle of water and a steaming cup of tea.
Inak rose slowly from his seat.
"Oh, you'll have your results…" he said, voice low almost a whisper...
His gaze swept across the table, landing on each of the three sipping board members in turn. Then came the smile.
"…give it seven days."
He started approaching the door, cane tapping softly against the floor. As he brushed past Frishna, he gave her a light pat on the shoulder.
"Thank you, Frishna," he said without looking.
Then, just as he crossed the doorway, he spoke without turning:
"Consider the offer, fellas… you don't have much time."
And with that, he disappeared down the hallway.
---
He walked through the department halls, cane tapping softly with each step. Everything had gone according to plan.
The glass doors parted as he exited the building, sunlight spilling across the lot. But as he neared his car, he slowed.
He noticed a man, leaning casually against the driver's side door of his car. Pink suit. Wrinkled collar. Crossed legs. Cigar pinched between his fingers, faint smoke curling upward. He didn't move.
Then, the stranger lifted his head slightly.
"Doctor Frederick Inak," he said, voice low and rough.
Inak stopped.
The man straightened up, flicking ash off the cigar.
"Detective Blugh Starfin," he added. "I've got a few questions for you."
Then he smirked.
"I think you and I," he said, tilting his head slightly, "have quite a lot to talk about."