Chapter Text
A week later.
The punishment for Ivan’s defiance was severe.
Because he had refused to listen to the alien keepers during the rehearsals, they had bound him, forcing him to his knees in the cold, dark isolation cell.
The heavy mechanical collar around his neck glowed with a harsh, restrictive red light, humming with a low, threatening vibration that signaled total confinement.
But Till knew how to bypass the system. It was a silent, dangerous skill he kept hidden.
That night, he used it. He slipped into the cell like a ghost, his breathing shallow, his fingers working quickly and deftly on Ivan’s neck until the collar clicked open, dropping harmlessly to the metallic floor with a dull clink.
Before Ivan could even process the sudden freedom or voice his shock, Till grabbed his hand.
Their fingers intertwined, a tight, desperate grip born of adrenaline and an unspoken urgency. And they ran.
They broke through the security sectors, tearing through the sterile, silver corridors and out into the simulated night of Anakt Garden, moving so fast the artificial wind howled in their ears.
They kept pushing until they finally crossed the outer boundary, breaching the final wall that kept them caged.
For the first time in their lives, they were standing on the other side.
They were out.
They were free.
The real night air was biting and cold, blowing wildly against Till’s face, but his right hand was burning.
It was completely consumed by the feverish, untamed heat of Ivan’s grip.
For a single, fleeting second, as they dashed into the endless dark under a real, untamed sky, Till allowed himself to feel something dangerously close to hope.
His heart hammered against his ribs, not from the fear of being caught, but from the intoxicating, overwhelming realization that Ivan was running with him.
That they were sharing the same air, the same escape, the same future.
But then, the momentum snapped.
Ivan stopped dead in his tracks.
The sudden resistance yanked Till back, the harsh jerk vibrating through his arm.
He didn’t turn around immediately, his eyes still fixed on the dark horizon of freedom, his fingers instinctively tightening around Ivan’s hand, trying to pull him forward.
`Just a few more steps`, Till thought desperately. `Just keep moving. Don't look back at that place. Look at me. Please, just look at me.`
He squeezed as hard as he could, silently begging the other boy not to let go, trying to anchor him to this new, open world. Till’s mind was racing, screaming at him that this was his only chance—not just to escape the aliens, but to steal Ivan away from the ghost of Sua.
Behind his back, Ivan was drowning in chaos. The real stars looked down on them, vast and beautiful, but Ivan wasn't looking at the sky.
His gaze was dragged backward, pulled by an invisible, unbreakable chain toward the giant, looming silhouette of Anakt Garden. Toward the prison they had just escaped. Toward the place where Sua and the others where.
`What am I doing?`,
Ivan’s thoughts were a frantic, suffocating mess.
`Freedom? What does freedom even mean if the stage is empty? What is the point of a sky this big if her voice isn't echoing under it?`
Ivan’s chest heaved as he stared at the distant, cold walls of their cage. The fierce, untamed fire that usually defined him was suddenly clashing with a terrible, heavy weight.
He realized with absolute, brutal clarity that if he ran now, he would be leaving her and the others behind to die on that stage alone.
He would be safe, but he would be a coward.
His entire existence, his songs, his anger—it all belonged to her.
`I can't leave. If I die, I die where she can see me. I'd rather be a corpse in her world than a ghost in this one.`
Ivan looked down at their joined hands. His fingers trembled against Till’s grip.
`And what about him?`, Ivan thought, his eyes tracking the tense line of Till's shoulders.
`Why did he do this? Why does he always follow me into the worst places?`
For a brief moment, Ivan felt a strange, heavy twinge of guilt. Till had risked everything, had stripped off his collar, had dragged him out into the cold night—all for nothing.
Slowly, reluctantly, Ivan began to loosen his fingers, letting the tightly woven grip slip away millimeter by millimeter.
Before he completely pulled back,
Ivan raised his eyes and looked at Till’s retreating back.
His usual sharp, mocking mask completely vanished, leaving only a profound, heavy sadness.
`I'm sorry, Till,`
Ivan thought, a silent, useless apology to a back that couldn't hear him.
`You're an idiot for coming after me. Don't come back. Stay out here.`
And then, with a sudden, final movement,
Ivan let go completely.
The warmth vanished instantly, replaced by the freezing night wind.
Hearing the rustle of clothes, Till finally turned his head, his eyes widening in panic as he looked over his shoulder.
But he was already too late.
He didn't see the sadness in Ivan's eyes. He didn't see the hesitation.
By the time Till's gaze swept over the dark grass, Ivan was already a retreating silhouette, sprinting at full speed back toward the boundary. He was running right into the jaws of Anakt Garden, heading straight toward the flashing alarms, the waking guards, and the guaranteed punishment.
All just to exist in the same prison as her.
Till stood frozen under the terrifyingly large sky, his empty hand still raised in the air, trembling and cold, staring at the empty space where Ivan’s head used to be.
Slowly, the corners of Till's mouth twitched upward.
He didn't chase after him.
He didn't scream his name into the void.
He just stood there, staring at the distant alarms of the garden, and smiled a broken, tragic smile.
His eyes looked like as if he wanted to cry, blurring the bright, flashing red lights in the distance.
`Of course`, Till thought, the realization settling into his chest like a block of ice.
`Of course you ran back. What did I even expect?`
Deep down, in the darkest, most realistic corners of his mind, Till had always known this would happen.
He had known that Ivan would never choose him, that Ivan’s heart belonged entirely to someone else.
Yet, despite the cold logic, despite the certainty of his own heartbreak, Till had allowed himself to hope.
He had let himself believe, even if only for a few seconds, that Ivan would finally look at him.
`I'm the real idiot here`,
he mocked himself.
`I knew the answer, and I still let myself hold his hand.`
The illusion was over.
Till wiped his eyes, his sad, watery smile fading back into his usual numb expression.
He looked out into the vast, free dark ahead of him—a world where he could have been safe, where he could have forgotten the aliens and the stage.
But a world without Ivan's chaotic heat was just as cold and dead as Anakt Garden.
`If you're going back to burn in that hell`,
Till thought, turning his body back toward the flashing red lights of the prison,
`then I'm going back to watch you do it.`
He took a deep breath of the free, cold air—and then turned around to follow Ivan back into the Anakt Garden.