Chapter 19: Syncope

Syncope

The people around had fallen silent upon hearing the noise Professor Fanous had made, but they quickly returned to their respective conversations. Except for Jevo and his classmates, who couldn't ignore it; they approached the table, surprised to recognize the man in front of them.

"...Professor Fanous?" Jevo asked, rubbing his head. "Excuse us for returning to the Institute without your permis----"

"There's no need to apologize to this damn hypocrite," Chase intervened.

"W-What? How dare you...? To a professor?"

"Hah, Professor? Tell me where he is because I can't see him."

Chase took a chair and sat next to Henroy and his family. They looked restless and confused.

"Come on, Henroy, tell your wife and children how, in a fit of rage, you punched one of your students right in the chin. Sorry, ex-students.”

"I don't know what this kid is talking about..."

"Then maybe you remember when you abandoned us to our fate during the altercation at the institute, fleeing at full speed in a luxury car."

"..."

The man refused to explain himself in front of his family. For his part, Jevo believed his friend's sharp comments, having seen a car pulling out in front of them when he found them at the institute, but the distance prevented him from identifying the driver. Now he knew who it was.

"Mr. Henroy... Is that true?" Jevo said.

The accused's relatives were asking the same thing, although he didn't seem like he was going to admit it. Yet.

"I remember..." Jevo sighed, taking a seat as well. "I remember a vehicle pulling out of the institute, and a man in a dark trench coat driving it. If I stop to think about the model... It turned out to be expensive---“

"I'd say too much for a professor..." Chase interrupted. "Is that the only luxury his family enjoyed? ...I doubt it. And from what I can see, they didn't have the slightest fucking idea. Heh. After the 'Lost Year' and the global pay cut, I'd like to know what excuse he's coming up with now."

Chase was driven by resentment toward his professor. Nothing more, nothing less, trying to find a reason to accuse the person that he hated since even before the incidents.

They were confused. All of them in one way or another.

Jevo didn't quite know what he was saying. He was trying to remember... The intention of clarifying what had happened up until now. He was overwhelmed by a restlessness of unknown origins.

But he couldn't. Not on his own.

Professor Henroy, seeing one of his best students filled with uncertainty, decided to speak up, like a mentor willing to answer questions in his class.

"At the end of this day, I have nothing to lose..." Henroy murmured, before clearing his throat with a sip of soda. "Ah..."

For Jevo, it was like seeing a completely different man than the respectful teacher he knew from the institute.

"This young lady should be well informed, but I must assume she has and will keep her words to herself."

The person the man pointed to was the young woman with saffron curls, Rousset.

"M-Me?"

"It's irrelevant... Do you wish to know what happened? I'll grant you that. You mentioned it, Chase Termiane. Last year, or as the ignorant call it, the 'Lost Year,' was a severe blow to the economy and society of Manecia, our land. However, it would be unwise to declare 2026 as the time when our deplorable situation originated. If you look at the roots and their fruits, ask yourself when the seeds were planted."

"...You... were involved with them..."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement Rousset Onslow was making.

"You're correct," Henroy continued his story. "The Republic of Manecia has always been unstable. I merely sought a way to survive that instability with my family."

"Even if it involved the San Ramael Institute?" Rousset replied, massaging her forehead. It was difficult for her to get angry, even though she wanted to. "You... You promoted narcotics trafficking with them..."

"...I'm surprised you'd rat me out, Rousset Onslow. A bit late for that, if I may say so."

"...”

"Damn lunatic..." Chase said.

Henroy's wife and son were restless. They knew something was amiss every time he returned home with a different gift. They lived well compared to the rest of their neighbors. But they chose to remain silent, then and now.

He kept them 'educated'.

"Narcotics, you say..." the man stammered, adjusting the collar of his black trench coat. "If young people were unable to control their actions, they are the only ones harmed. A drug is harmful only if it is consumed. I've only been more astute, and for that even you should be grateful, Miss Onslow..."

"Why would I be grateful?" Rousset questioned.

"Pay more attention, since we've been discussing it," Henroy said. "The infamous St. Ramael Institute was a victim of the economic crisis. How do you think it has survived during the catastrophe that erupted in the capital, for so long?"

"..."

"I know you know that well. I have never been driven by greed to the point of extorting the director. She always agreed with our activities."

"Ma...ma..."

"I've never been guilty, as you're pointing out," he violently rose from the table. "Because I did it for my family! And for you!"

The words the man mentioned were shocking in themselves. Fallacies or not... A piece of background that no one knew, but not the truth that his insides were screaming for.

"Heh, it's laughable. Drowsiness, body aches, migraines, dizziness... It's ridiculous that the reason you're so caught up in ruining my family dinner is because of a drug as insignificant as a cold..."

"What are you talking about...?"

They were paralyzed. Chase, Jevo, Earlene, Rousset, and Brawell, motionless for several seconds, for no apparent reason.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Vines asked his companions. He was starting to get seriously restless.

"...Again. It was obvious,” Professor Henroy Fanous said to himself, standing up from the table and taking his family members' hands, he walked away. " You are an unbeliever...."

"What...? What’s happe---?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAH!"

Their gazes were lost, because their minds weren't focused on what they were seeing, but on what they saw.

They had left the syncope...

Finally.

Earlene stared at the ceiling, tears in her eyes.

Jevo's hands wouldn't stop shaking. He looked at them repeatedly, bewildered.

Chase held his forehead, trying to hold his breath.

Rousset's legs gave way. She gave way on her knees, hid her face with both palms, letting out an unbearable scream through her fingers.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH! Gaaah...!" "Aaaaah!"

Brawell desperately fled through the door. The first to notice was Cadie, who rushed to the scene to find out what was happening, and was roughly pushed aside by him.

None of the civilians present had any idea what was happening. Some just moved their chairs away, and most left the room. Expected reactions.

Bemi Perke, the woman who had allowed them entry in the first place, called for help, and the man in the blue beret quickly arrived with her to rescue the boys.

"G-Get away!" Chase shouted, nearly falling out of his seat, preventing them from approaching.

He stood up trembling and made his way out into the main hallway as best he could.

But what was happening to them?

The feeling of uncertainty inside them erupted like a firework. Out of control, burning everything in its path.

It was so warm…

"Ah... Ah... Gah..."

They had seen everything. What they believed was a simple robbery resulting from the riots in the capital was nothing more than a misconception that "protected" them.

They had remembered everything. The massacre at the San Ramael Institute. The people fleeing for their lives, victims of "those things."

The cries for help, the blood, the dismemberments... The scene that passed before their eyes as they fled on their own, leaving them behind.

And they saw beyond…

Every detail with extreme precision. Never before had anything been so deeply embedded in their minds.

Nausea drove Chase to crawl along the hallway walls until he reached the bathrooms.

In the playroom, Paul, a young boy, had seen him passing by and asked for his ice cream, but was ignored.

Once in the bathtub, Chase turned on the sink and scrubbed his face with plenty of water.

He stayed there for a long time. He needed to calm down and process what had happened.

“T-They weren't human... Gh...”

This was no longer about well-known riots like the one a year ago, which he had witnessed 'live and in person' in the core of the capital...

This was about something else, something sinister he wouldn't have imagined.

-[Ø]-

Night had finally fallen.

It was unknown how many were able to sleep, or if anyone had managed to do so in the first place.

The clock read 3:00 a.m. Vines confirmed this as he continued to snoop around the luxurious apartment.

Everyone was asked to stay away from Chase and his group to give them recovery time, under the assumption that having been outside during the riots had affected their mental health.

…They weren't entirely wrong.

The young man continued on the second floor, under the lights of the picturesque lanterns, crossing the balconies from where the long wisps of smoke, the darkness, and the persistent silence of the city could be seen. His tight clothing made him uneasy against the low temperatures and drizzle typical of the capital.

Below him, a hidden shadow huddled between the columns of the first floor. It was the only foreigner there, Brawell Lesford, sitting on some steps where the light barely reached.

His hiding place was slowly illuminated by the flame of a lantern. The one carrying it was the white maid, Cadie. On her shoulder was the acoustic guitar she was about to put away in her room.

"Excuse me," she said, in the softest tone her vocal cords allowed. "Are you feeling better?"

The foreigner remained silent. From Cadie's perspective, she couldn't even see his face.

“I... I'm deeply sorry. I'm sorry I did not notice your condition... My friends have told me I'm not good at identifying it in others... I've made an effort, but I'm afraid if they saw me now, they'd still be right...”

“...”

“Uhm... May I offer you a blanket? Or perhaps coffee is more appropriate for this freezing night? I've opened the orphanage to anyone who needs care during these difficult times our dear Manecia is going through.”

He still didn't respond.

Seeing this, Cadie resorted to the only recourse she had left to cheer him up. She took the white guitar off her shoulder, adjusted her dress, and sat down beside him.

There was a moment of silence while she adjusted her instrument, and then she began to play.

It had to be subtle; the others were asleep by then. And its soft notes reflected it like a lullaby to a newborn.

She closed her eyes and dove in. One string after another, moving his hands to the rhythm of the tune.

This time she didn't part her lips, letting the music convey what her voice couldn't.

It seemed impossible, but she achieved a melody even more beautiful than the one she'd shown the children the previous evening.

When she finished, Cadie came out of her trance and opened her eyes again. This time Brawell's head was raised.

He looked at the flowers in the garden before him. Pure white roses, perfectly arranged in multiple rows between the tall columns and illuminated by lamps throughout.

"S-Sorry..." Brawell stammered.

"Did you dislike the song? Oh… I didn't mean to… I'm still learning."

"Sorry... S-Sorry... Gsk... Sorry..."

Cadie was starting to get restless. She picked up her guitar and quickly stood up.

"No... I should not have bothered you... M-My sincere apologies..." she said. "If you need anything, please don't hold back from telling me... I shall be in my room."

After nodding, the maid in white nervously withdrew.

"Sorry... Sorry... Sorry... Tsk... Sorry..."

Such apologies would never be granted.

Two hours had passed; the faintest hint of navy blue loomed on the horizon.

Exhaustion had overcome the lonely stranger, so he slowly emerged from his sleep.

He heard someone knocking on the front door.

Sleepily, he stood up and walked toward it. "I've opened the orphanage to anyone who needs care..." He remembered those Cadie's words perfectly.

Knock, knock, knock...

The person knocking hadn't stopped for a moment. They continued knocking, over and over again, with exactly the same frequency and intensity.

Brawell then quickened his pace. He followed the stone path until he reached the door handles and without thinking, opened them.

It wasn't one person.

There were several. From his position, he estimated about ten.

The stranger didn't think twice; he stepped to the side and nodded, indicating they could enter.

He hadn't realized anything strange was happening until he looked up.

The crowd was motionless, their eyes fixed in all directions.

"Gh!"

Brawell immediately knew what it was. He returned his hand to the door handle to close it... But they had already taken a step inside.

Even pushing the door hard couldn't budge them an inch.

They kept coming in as if nothing had happened.

There weren't just ten of them. There were dozens. Even some faces were familiar. The same ones he'd seen the day before, lying on the pavement.

“A-Ah--!”

By then, Brawell was already running terrified toward the main building. He had no choice since the only exit also served as an entrance.

They quickened their pace.

"Hah! Haaa! R-Run! RUN!"

The first to hear the Brawell’s warnings was Vines, who silently continued to steal valuables he found in the mansion, stuffing them into the pockets of his tight pants.

"Who said that?" he asked, alarmed.

He quickly returned to the balconies and watched as the crowd gathered at the entrance with a pressure that managed to break down the doors.

"What the... fuck...?"

For the first time, he understood reality; something 'out of this world' was taking place.

-[Ø]-

In her bed, Earlene had been alarmed by a commotion outside. The young blonde spent hours trying to fall asleep, but after all, it was impossible.

She had the luxury of spending the night in a private room, and now she regretted it. She looked around as she pulled the covers off her head.

As she left the room, the first thing she noticed was Vines running in her direction.

"V-Vines?"

"Ah, ah, the others... Where are the others? Phew..."

They then noticed voices from across the hall and followed them.

All the residents of the mansion, at least on the second floor, were gathered together, arguing. Their friends included.

“Where's Mrs. Bemi?”

“What time is it...?”

“DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”

“They're playing a trick on us...”

“Ugh... Let's go back to sleep, I beg you...”

Meanwhile, Vines and Earlene approached Chase and his group.

"Do you know what's happening?" Jevo muttered to the newcomers. Vines answered hurriedly.

"D-Dude, I don't know... I saw some guys break into the mansion. They managed to break down the damn door with their bare hands!"

"What...?"

By now, they knew what was going on. They weren't ignorant. Nothing more.

Adjusting his new baseball cap, Chase gestured with his hand for them to sneak away from the other residents.

"That's them..." Chase said, trying not to be overheard by anyone but his friends.

"Dreamers..." Earlene muttered.

"Dreamers?"

For his part, Vines didn't know exactly what they were referring to, but he did recognize the danger.

"Those guys were at the front door... I-If they came in that way, I say we split up and get out any way we can."

"Vines," Chase stopped him. "I don't know what the hell they are or what they want, but splitting up isn't something we've been doing very well with so far, is it? ...They're NOT normal, get that through your head."

"Man, if you know so much, then what are you suggesting? Damn... It seems like I'm the only one proposing options."

"Let me think! Let's see... First----- Tch!"

At the end of the hallway. There they were.

Their clothes, now torn and stained, revealed their injured bodies, which immediately terrified the onlooking audience. However, just like the spectators, they were motionless.

As if time had stopped completely. Both groups, facing each other, without making the slightest sound.

However, the worst that could have happened... happened.

The lights had gone out.

“GYAAAAAH”

“A BLACKOUT?”

“C-Calm down!”

“D-Don't push!”

From the mansion to the gardens. There was no moonlight that early morning, nor did the slightly blue sky provide sufficient visibility. And within that closed, built-up area, a few meters proved to be the maximum acceptable field of vision.

“Gah... Blugh...!”

“Aaaaah...”

In the midst of the black and chaos, wails of agony began to be heard in all directions.

Panic gripped everyone, and their response was to escape. No matter where or how, just run.

To be continued…