CHAPTER 5 — WHEN THE SILENCE BREAKS

Morning at home

THUMP.

Vik’s body hit the floor with a dull thud, tangled in the blanket that had covered him through the night.
—“Ah, damn it...” —he muttered groggily, scratching his head, disoriented.

He threw off the blanket and stumbled to his feet as the morning light began to pour into the room, bathing it in a golden hue.

From the kitchen, a soft laugh broke the stillness.

Anya, her silver-blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail and her usual apron tied neatly around her waist, stirred the contents of a pan with practiced ease.
The light bounced off her hair as she moved, her face calm but amused — silently teasing her brother’s clumsiness.

—“You finally up?” —she asked, not even turning to look—
“You must’ve slept terribly on that damn sofa…”

The kitchen, warm and fragrant, smelled of toasted bread and fresh coffee.
Sunlight filtered through the cabinets and furniture like a balm.

Vik appeared in the doorway, barefoot, dragging his feet, his hair a messy storm and eyes half-shut.
He yawned, eyes scanning for his sister. Everything around him seemed calm — and yet, something inside him was still unsettled.

Leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, he spoke plainly:

—“Why did you get home so late last night?”

Anya didn’t answer right away. She kept stirring slowly, as if weighing every word.
—“Work stuff…” —she said finally, voice quiet.
She wasn’t lying — but she wasn’t telling the whole truth either.

Then she turned toward him with a gentle expression and placed breakfast on the table: scrambled eggs, golden toast, fresh fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee.
Everything arranged with care — like a routine she’d rehearsed a thousand times.

—“Here. Eat something. You’ve got to be hungry.”

Vik sat down without a word.
In his eyes, there was something heavier than just fatigue. Still, he gave her a faint smile and began to eat.

For a few moments, everything felt normal.
As if routine could heal anything.
As if the warm sunlight alone was enough to hold the world together.

—“How was your day yesterday, little brother?” —Anya asked casually.

Vik took a sip of coffee, then lowered his gaze.
—“It wasn’t a good day,” —he replied bluntly.
“The company’s going under. They let us go without warning… nearly the entire staff.”

Anya went silent. Her expression shifted — like the air had been knocked out of her.
—“Just like that?”
—“Just that fast,” —Vik said, glancing toward the window.

A brief pause. Then he added:
—“The world doesn’t wait. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

Anya leaned closer, searching his eyes.
—“It wasn’t your fault, Vik. That place was doomed for a while now.”

He looked at her — a mix of sadness and affection in his eyes.
—“I know... but it still sucks.”

Silence. Just the quiet clinking of silverware breaking through it.

—“So… what did you do after?” —she asked, curious.

Vik smiled, a little more relaxed.
—“Went out with Alexei. Didn’t want to come home and sink into it.”

—“And? What happened?” —Anya asked, resting her chin in her hand.

—“We hit a burger joint. But the food wasn’t the most interesting part… it was Alexei.”

A mischievous spark lit up his eyes.

—“Alexei? That walking mountain?”

—“He melted the moment the waitress showed up. Some girl named Katya. Yeah, she was cute — but he turned into a broken robot.”

Anya burst out laughing, setting her toast down.
—“No way!”

—“He was trembling like a leaf. Took him a full minute just to order a burger,” —Vik laughed, imitating him in a trembling voice:
“‘Th-thanks… these… burg…burgers…’”

They both broke into laughter.
And for a few moments, there was no pain.
No uncertainty.
Just laughter.
And that… was enough.

—“I’m glad you have someone like him,” —Anya said, still smiling.
—“And I’m glad I have you.”

No more needed to be said.

The routine returned gently.
Vik washed the dishes while Anya got ready in her room. She slipped into her lab coat, adjusted the level 6 clearance badge on her chest, and went over her papers with almost military precision.
But something in her eyes… had changed.

When she returned to the kitchen, ready to leave, she paused behind Vik.
He didn’t see her coming — only felt the warmth of a kiss pressed to his forehead.

—“Thanks for breakfast, little brother.”
—“Be careful,” —he replied without turning around—. “And don’t be too late.”
—“I’ll try,” —Anya called back from the door.

The house fell silent after she left.
The echo of her departure still lingered in the air.
And though neither of them knew it, that had been the last normal morning of their lives.

The city… was no longer the same.

Where once the calm blue of the sky had ruled, now hung a thick, unmoving gray sheet.
Vik stood by the window, arms crossed, watching in silence. The rain had started lightly, but it wouldn’t stay gentle for long.

—“What now…?” —he muttered.

It wasn’t a question for anyone.
Just a thought thrown into the void.
Outside, the world was darkening.
Inside, uncertainty swelled like a gathering storm.

He walked into his room. Opened the closet.
He wasn’t looking for clothes.
He was looking for escape.

From the back, he pulled out a pair of rusted dumbbells, an old mat, and a towel.
Laid them on the floor.
Stretched his shoulders.
Pressed play on his phone.

Click.

Music filled the room.
And with it, his body moved.

Push-ups. Sit-ups. Weights.
One after the other.

Each repetition was a blow against discouragement.
A strike to reclaim control.

Sweat began to drip from his forehead, splashing onto the mat.
The rhythm became steady, almost military.
Only the sound of his breathing and the thunder of the rain marked the time.

Outside, the world crumbled under the storm.
Inside, Vik sweated out his anger.

When he was done, he collapsed onto the edge of the bed.
His muscles burned — but something in his eyes had cleared.
The storm hadn’t passed.
But now… he was ready to face it.

He headed for the shower.
Hot water poured down like redemption.

His thoughts, murky, dragged themselves between drops and steam.
His body was drained — but his soul... was alert.

As he stepped out, passing by the kitchen, he stopped dead.

There, sitting on the counter… was the lunchbox he’d prepared for Anya that morning.
Untouched.
Still sealed.
The label clinging to it like a whisper:

“For Anya.”

Vik approached.
Took it in his hands.
Stared at it in silence.

—“She didn’t eat… again?” —he murmured.

There was no answer.

Outside, the rain beat a hypnotic rhythm.
But in his chest… something pulsed harder.

A decision took shape.
One that needed no words.

He walked back into his room.
Pulled on a hoodie.
Dark sweatpants.
Worn-out sneakers.
Grabbed a yellow raincoat and zipped it to the neck.

He placed the lunchbox in a bag and gripped it tightly.

—“If she can’t come out… then I’ll go in.”

He opened the door.

CLACK.

The click of the lock echoed like a gunshot.
And with that, he stepped outside.

The city welcomed him with a blast of water and wind.

Rain slammed against the pavement with fury — as if the sky were trying to wash the city away.
Vik walked forward with purpose, face hidden beneath his hood, his body soaked in seconds.
The bag with the lunchbox was pressed tightly against his chest.

The streets were deserted.
Too deserted.

No traffic. No people.
Only rain. Only echoes.

—“This is weird…” —he muttered.

He kept walking.
Shops: closed.
Bus stops: empty.

A blinking Theralux billboard flickered through the shadows:

“Theralux: Beyond medicine.”

The slogan felt more ominous than inspiring.

He descended into the metro.
The echo of his footsteps followed him.

The platform… empty.
The guard booth… abandoned.

—“Ivan…?” —he whispered, confused.

No answer.
Just an old woman on a bench. Motionless.
Two hooded teens in the corner. Silent.
Like time had stopped here.

The train arrived without announcement.
A soft whistle. The doors opened.
He stepped in.

The train came to a gentle stop.
Vik stepped off.

The station was just as empty.
Lights flickering.
Silence absolute… until it shattered.

First, a low hum.
Then—sirens.

Police.

Vik surfaced into the open.
The business district — once packed — was now a desert of wet asphalt and steel.

And Theralux…

Theralux was sealed off.
Barricaded.

Patrol cars.
Flashing blue lights.
Biohazard suits. Armed guards.
Caution tape.
Locked doors.

Vik froze.
His heart pounded in his chest.

One step. Then another.

—“Hey! Restricted zone! Turn around, citizen!” —shouted an officer, raising his hand.

Vik lifted the bag.

—“My sister works here… I just came to bring her lunch.”

—“I said leave!”

The tone was sharp.
Final.
Non-negotiable.

Vik clenched his jaw.
Water ran down his face.
Desperation breaking through.

—“I just want to see her! Just one minute!”

The guard drew his weapon.

—“One more step and I swear—”
The threat hung in the air.

Vik stared him down.
His voice trembled:

—“She’s my sister.”

And then—

THACK.

The blow landed before he could react.
The butt of the rifle struck his temple.

He fell.

The lunchbox slipped.
The bag tore open.
Food spilled across the wet asphalt, swept away by the filthy streetwater.

Vik, blood trickling from his eyebrow, stared at the sky as the rain kept falling.

—“What the hell are you doing?!” —he shouted in fury.

No answer.

And then…

WAAAAAAH—WAAAAAH.

Alarms blared from inside Theralux.
Blue lights surged from the facade.

The guards tensed.
One looked down at Vik, his voice no longer so firm:

—“Get out of here, kid! This place isn’t safe…”

And they ran.
All of them.
Toward the building.

Metal shutters began to descend.
Heavy. Slow. Final.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

Vik lay there.
Soaked. Bleeding.

The lunchbox shattered beside him.
Reality—fractured in front of his eyes.

He didn’t know it yet…
but that day, the world would never be the same again.