It all began with pain.
Not the kind of pain when you cut your finger or break your leg. This was like every cell in my body deciding to die separately. Blood boiled beneath ice. Skin peeled away in layers, but I couldn't scream—there's no air in space for screaming.
Space. I was in space. How? Why?
Then there was a voice. It didn't sound. It simply existed in my head, drowning out the agony.
"How curious. You survived. The third heart wasn't wrong to stop me then."
I tried to answer, but words dissolved in the void.
"You'll forget everything. Create what I need. I'll come for the result."
"What... do you want?"
"Lost souls must find their refuge."
The pain vanished. The world collapsed and turned inside out.
The first thing I felt was confinement. As if I'd been stuffed into a shoebox. I tried to move my fingers... It worked, but the movements were foreign, imprecise. Like wearing gloves three sizes too big.
Light cut through my eyes even through closed eyelids. Voices. Rough, smoke-damaged:
"Your Grace, the vessel for your son is ready."
Vessel? I'm a vessel?
Panic washed over me in a wave. I jerked, but my body responded sluggishly, as if swimming through syrup.
"Why is it moving?"
The aristocrat's voice trembled with anger.
"You said this was an empty body!"
"Yes, my lord. That's correct. Is something wrong?"
"Why is it moving? Look at its fingers."
The doctor froze. Then shook his head.
"Impossible! We couldn't have placed a soul in there. We have neither the energy nor the capabilities for that."
"What have you done?! This is no longer just breaking the law. This is sacrilege!"
"No, wait! We'll fix everything. The nobility won't learn about this, I swear."
I managed to open my mouth and move my lips, but I could only produce moaning sounds.
"This crosses all boundaries! You've created a monster that shouldn't be here! I'm leaving and taking my son with me. And you, doctor, deal with this nightmare immediately! I'll have no more business with you."
"But how..."
"I don't want to hear another word from your mouth! Be grateful I'm not turning you in! Be happy that your patron continues to protect you."
"I'll sort everything out immediately, my lord, please don't be angry."
I opened my eyes. The room was snow-white, the walls laid with brick. A tiny window in the corner looked like we were in a basement. Two bright spotlights hung directly above me. The light made my head ache, and I lowered my gaze.
I lay on a cot, tightly secured with straps. I was covered with a blanket up to my head. Two doctors in masks stood nearby. Behind them was a fat man with a mustache. He resembled a character from an old fairy tale: wearing a fur coat, suit, and strange cap that looked like a kepi.
"Right, fine, Alya, go get the sacks. Sir, please take your son and return home. I'll contact you as soon as we can continue the procedure."
"We'll see."
The fat man went somewhere to the left. Meanwhile, the doctor began unbuckling me and fiddling with the restraints.
I tried to stand up. Since my legs were still tied, I could only sit up. I decided to see where that father had gone. Another cot stood nearby.
The doctor shouted in panic.
"No! Don't let them make eye contact!"
He reached toward me, but time seemed to stop.
I turned my head and locked eyes with the boy. He lay on the neighboring cot and stared directly at me.
He had eyes of different colors: blue and violet. But the moment our gazes met, both turned brown.
And then the world exploded.
Not outside, but inside. Foreign memories flooded into my head. No, not foreign—ours. I remembered being a child, afraid of the dark. I remembered the taste of oatmeal I hated. The scent of mother's perfume before she died.
But I didn't have a mother. Or did I?
The boy—Elliot, his name...
Elliot also jerked as if struck by lightning. In his eyes I saw the same thing I felt: horror at no longer understanding where you end and someone else begins.
"Distract him! Break the contact!"
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Everything happened in fractions of a second, but it felt like I'd spent an eternity in that gaze. For a moment I caught a glimpse of fractured pain and fear in his eyes, before the fat man roughly grabbed him and dragged him away.
Memories and knowledge began coming to me. This was all in his head? How can I understand this? The boy looked interesting. Wheat-colored hair, a large nose, and freckles. They pushed me back into the bed. And the kid was grabbed by that fat man, apparently his father.
"We're leaving this place. Get your things."
My gaze shifted to the doctor, who was holding me while his assistant approached with something resembling a stake. Am I some kind of vampire?
I didn't get to learn the answer, because for the past few minutes the entire room had been vibrating as if I were sitting in a massage chair.
The metal door, which apparently was behind me, flew a couple meters and shattered the snow-white wall. The door was thick, metal, with heavy rivets.
The rough female voice commanded from the doorway.
"In the name of the law, you're all under arrest!"
It was a rough female voice. But I still caught softness in it.
They didn't listen to her. The man with the child ran off somewhere to the side. The doctor snatched the stake from his frozen assistant's hands and rushed toward the voice.
Gunshots. They were so loud that my ears rang. However, I still heard the doctor apparently fall to the ground against his will.
The assistant panicked and released the straps. I had no desire to be shot, so I jumped off the cot. Quickly looking around, I figured out where that pair had run. A barely visible descent downward was visible in the corner of the room. Naturally, I bolted there.
Due to the concussion I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but it sounded like threats behind my back. Quickly descending, I moved down a long corridor. It was made much less carefully than the room, and resembled a secret passage that had long ceased to be secret.
I ran as fast as I could and was even slowly catching up to the father and son.
"Stop, I'm talking to you, I'll shoot!"
I was about to turn around, but I wasn't used to this body yet and ended up stumbling.
A gunshot.
I turned back—about five people were visible in the distance in the passage. I reached the man who was lying on the floor for some reason and the boy sitting next to him.
He stood frozen, staring at the now lifeless body. In this chaos I only briefly saw tears in his eyes.
The escape from the laboratory was like a blurred spot of panic and adrenaline. I ran, stumbling in my disobedient body. Elliot cried over his father's body. I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me.
Why did I do it?
There was some kind of hole in the wall, and I falsely assumed that there should be ground behind it that we could climb up.
"Caught you! Heinrich, Waltz, get over here quickly! Take these jumpers."
Yeah... I'd never been so wrong.
I couldn't even move, as if I'd been frozen in mid-air. The thing is, we were hanging from... What floor was this? Well, doesn't matter. Outside it was dark, because we were in some kind of skyscraper. A huge moon decorated the sky above, while below stretched a metropolis. Countless small lights and hordes of automobiles. Old ones, I think, from the twentieth century.
Then from around the corner of the building, a huge sphere began to appear. Wow, it's the size of a building! Wait a minute, that's an airship.
How do I know it's an airship?
The answer came by itself: from Elliot's memory. He'd read about them in a book.
"Oh, how interesting, you're twins. Well, sorry about what happened to your father. Let's take you somewhere where you'll be examined."
The woman who spoke was looking at us. She appeared to be about thirty, with black hair tied in a bun. Soft skin and barely visible eyebrows, but she'd apparently extended her eyelashes. Large brown eyes were mesmerizing.
I wanted to object—we're not twins! But my tongue wouldn't obey.
They took us to a hospital, where we were examined and apparently nothing beyond normal was found. Of course they didn't find anything. How do you explain to doctors that your head is a mess of foreign and your own thoughts!
No one reacted to my objections that we weren't twins. The boy cried the whole time. So we sat in some room resembling an interrogation room for a good half of the night. At night in the interrogation room, Elliot cried in his sleep. I heard his thoughts—in fragments, flashes. Fear. Loneliness. And strange hope connected to me.
He thinks I'm his brother. His real brother.
"Well, have you been waiting long for me?"
The woman entered the room and brought us water and sandwiches.
"Ma'am, how much longer will we be sitting here?"
The woman got a little angry.
"Don't call me ma'am. I'm just Alice Veil to you. And you are Elliot Caers and... well, we don't know anything about the second one. Won't you tell us why?"
"I don't even know what to say. I just found myself in that place, don't remember anything and don't understand what's happening."
"Curious. How about we talk alone? El, can you wait outside, please?"
Alice and I were left alone. She became more serious. She squinted, as if scanning me with her gaze.
"Now honestly: who are you, kid? Even the Secret Chancellery knows absolutely nothing about you. We don't know your name, or where you're from either. But here's what's interesting: your face—not your body, but specifically your facial features—perfectly match the boy outside. But you're not a child. You speak without stumbling or fear, not all adults can do that."
Did she figure it out? No, she has no idea, but what's better? I'll just tell her from the moment I appeared. They'll think I'm crazy if I tell them about space.
"I really don't understand or remember anything. This world looks foreign to me. I wake up in that room, they threaten to kill me, and so do you... And I'm just a child."
"A child, right? I'd believe that! I sense a completely non-childish mindset in you."
I lowered my head, not knowing how to continue. Alice watched me carefully, her expression softening.
"You know, I've lost a lot in this life too. Losing close people leaves deep wounds that don't heal easily."
I raised my eyes and saw something warm and caring in her gaze.
"You're not alone in this. And I want to help you. We'll find answers to all the questions, but right now it's important that you're safe."
Her voice sounded confident, and this was somewhat comforting.
"We've made a decision. You and your—now—twin brother will be temporarily taken in by a family of your father's friends. They're noble people, they'll take care of you while the investigation continues."
"They... they'll accept us?"
Alice smiled, tilting her head slightly.
"Yes, they will. And also, I think you need a new name. How about 'Luten'?"
I thought for a moment, then nodded.
I nodded, accepting this role. Luten Caers, Elliot's brother.
But who was I before this?
"Excellent, Luten. You and your brother will be safe. This is a temporary measure, but I hope you'll be happy there."
I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I don't understand what's happening, and I'm scared, but should I cry like a child? I am a child, aren't I?
"Oh yes, you can show emotions. Apparently quite a lot has built up."
She stood and approached me, placing her hand on my shoulder.
"We'll meet again, Luten."
"Goodbye, Alice."
Elliot and I stood on the steps of the old building when a car pulled up. My heart was beating fast, not from fear, but from curiosity and slight nervousness about something new.
The automobile was remarkable: its smooth metal panels gleamed in the light, while the interior was modern and high-tech. The exterior resembled classic premium models with massive fenders and chrome trim.
When the doors opened, we were greeted by a man and woman—Count and Countess Waldberg. The Countess extended her hand to me with a warm smile, while the Count nodded approvingly.
"Welcome, children. I am Countess Waldberg, and this is my husband, Count Waldberg."
"Hello."
Elliot's voice sounded calm, though I noticed he was also slightly nervous.
"Hi."
Settling into the Waldberg's car, Elliot squeezed my hand. Not hard, but enough for me to feel his pulse. Or was it my pulse? The boundary was blurring.
I decided to comfort him.
"We'll manage."
I didn't know who I was lying to more—him or myself.
The city flashed by outside the window. Two sets of thoughts flickered in my head. And somewhere deep inside pulsed a memory of space and a voice that had promised to return for the result.
What result? And what would happen when it came?