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Chapter Text

Tom groaned as he stirred awake, feeling the uncomfortable springs of the bed poking into his back. He blinked his eyes open and glanced around, momentarily disoriented. It took him a few moments to remember where he was. He was staying with his mother and her team of scientists on an isolated island, engaged in a study of a meteor that had crash-landed there.

The room he was in was small and sparsely furnished, with a single narrow bed, a desk cluttered with scientific equipment, and a dusty window that offered a glimpse of the lush tropical surroundings outside. Tom sighed heavily, feeling a sense of confinement that weighed on him.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. The sound of distant chatter and clinking equipment reached his ears, indicating that the scientists were already up and about, busy with their work. It seemed like they were far more invested in the meteor and their research than in Tom's presence.

Tom had never been particularly interested in science or the mysteries of the universe. He was more of an outdoorsy type, yearning for adventure and excitement. This remote island, however, offered none of that for him. The days seemed to blend into each other, with monotonous routines and scientific jargon that he struggled to comprehend.

He missed his friends, his school, and the comforts of home. Being stuck on this island with his mother and her team of scientists was not his idea of a thrilling summer break. Tom had tried expressing his dissatisfaction to his mother, but she was always preoccupied with her work, dismissing his complaints with a distracted nod.

Determined to shake off his sullen mood, Tom stood up and stretched his lanky frame. He decided to venture outside and explore the island on his own, hoping to find something that would alleviate his boredom. Perhaps he could stumble upon a hidden treasure or discover a secret cave that would make this whole experience worthwhile.

As he stepped out of the small research facility that served as their temporary base, the humid tropical air enveloped him, and the vibrant greens of the surrounding jungle caught his attention.

Tom took a deep breath, pushing aside his frustration, and set off on a path that led into the heart of the island. Maybe, just maybe, he would find something to spark his curiosity and make this adventure more than just a scientific endeavor.

As Tom walked around the island, he couldn't help but notice that the temperature continued to drop. The island, known for its chilly climate, seemed to be living up to its reputation. Shivering slightly, Tom wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the cold air nip at his skin.

Disappointed by his lack of exciting discoveries and growing disinterest, Tom decided to head back to the research facility. He trudged back along the familiar path, longing for the warmth and comfort of the lab.

Upon his return to the facility, Tom's disappointment seemed to deepen, and he decided to retreat to his room instead of joining the scientists for lunch. The chill from the island seemed to seep into his bones, dampening his appetite. He closed the door behind him and settled down in his small, sparse room, seeking solace from the cold.

The room itself was not much better in terms of temperature, with drafts sneaking in through the cracks in the walls. Tom huddled under the thin blankets on his bed, attempting to generate some warmth, but the chill persisted. He sat there, feeling isolated and disconnected from the bustling scientific activity outside.

Staring at the wall, Tom's thoughts wandered to his friends and the comforts of home. He yearned for the familiar, the warm meals, and the laughter he had left behind. The realization that he was stuck on this cold, uninteresting island only intensified his longing for a different kind of adventure.

Tom's stomach rumbled lightly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. However, the lack of appetite remained, and he couldn't bring himself to muster an interest in food. The disheartening atmosphere seemed to sap away his energy and dampen his spirits.

He sat in his room, feeling a mixture of frustration, isolation, and the bitter cold. The hours stretched on, and Tom wondered how he would find any enjoyment or purpose in this seemingly endless expedition. The island, with its cold climate and lack of excitement, only seemed to amplify his discontent.

Lost in his thoughts, Tom's gaze wandered to the frost-covered window. Feeling the weight of his disappointment and the chill of the island, Tom decided to postpone his exploration for the next day. He knew that a good night's sleep would help rejuvenate his spirits and give him a fresh perspective on his surroundings.

Returning to his room, Tom closed the door behind him and settled down on the uncomfortable bed. He pulled the thin blankets tightly around himself, seeking warmth and comfort. Despite the less-than-ideal conditions, exhaustion soon caught up with him, and he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Dreams of home and adventures danced through Tom's mind as he slept. He found solace in the visions of familiar places and faces, momentarily escaping the reality of the cold island. The night passed, its darkness and stillness enveloping him.

The following morning, sunlight peeked through the gaps in the worn-out curtains, casting a warm glow into the room. Tom slowly blinked his eyes open, stretching his limbs and letting out a yawn. He felt a renewed sense of determination, eager to make the most of the day and seek out the hidden wonders that the island might hold.

Shaking off the remnants of sleep, Tom got up from the uncomfortable bed and quickly dressed in layers of warm clothing. He was determined to embrace the cold climate and find something that would captivate his attention and bring excitement to his stay.

As he stepped out of his room and into the research facility, he could hear the distant sounds of the scientists already engaged in their work. Today, however, Tom's focus was set on his own adventure. He briefly contemplated grabbing a quick bite to eat, realizing that his appetite had returned but decided to postpone it for now. The prospect of exploration was too enticing to delay any longer.

With a sense of anticipation, Tom stepped out into the crisp morning air. The island, still shrouded in the remnants of the night's cold, awaited his discovery. He took a deep breath, feeling the chill fill his lungs, and began to walk, determined to find something that would bring him the excitement he had been longing for since his arrival.

As he ventured further into the island's mysteries, Tom hoped that today would mark a turning point in his experience, where he would find his own unique connection to this remote place and forge memories that would overshadow the discomfort and disappointment he had felt thus far.

Tom trudged back to the lab, his spirits sinking with each step. Disappointment clung to him like a heavy cloak, and his attempts to find something captivating on the island had once again ended in frustration. As he entered the lab, he noticed his mother engrossed in a conversation with her fellow scientists, barely sparing him a glance.

Feeling a surge of sadness and isolation, Tom tried to muster the courage to approach his mother and express his feelings. However, as he approached her, she seemed preoccupied with her work, dismissing his presence with a distracted nod and a brief acknowledgment. The lack of attention from his own mother only deepened his gloom, leaving him feeling even more invisible and detached from the world around him.

Seeking solace, Tom retreated to his room, the familiar space offering a sense of comfort amidst his disappointment. He rummaged through his belongings until he found an old, weathered notebook and a set of pencils. Perhaps pouring his emotions onto paper would provide some sort of release and respite from the unfulfilling experiences he had been facing.

Seated at the cluttered desk, Tom opened the notebook to a blank page and began to sketch. The pencil danced across the paper, creating lines and shapes that captured his thoughts and feelings. The strokes on the page mirrored the turmoil within him, giving shape to his frustrations and hopes.

As he drew, the outside world faded away, and Tom found solace in the act of creation. His focus shifted from the disappointments of the island to the strokes of the pencil and the emergence of something new on the paper. He lost himself in the process, finding a cathartic release in the act of expressing himself through art.

Hours passed, and Tom found himself surrounded by a collection of sketches that told a story of his emotions. The notebook had become a tangible reflection of his journey, serving as a visual narrative of his time on the island. Although his frustrations hadn't magically disappeared, the act of drawing had brought a sense of purpose and relief. Soon Tom grew tired and decided to sleep, once more he ignored his hunger as he slowly drifted into the darkness of sleep.

Chapter Text

Tom woke up with a renewed sense of determination, eager to embark on another exploration of the island. He knew that disappointment had followed him before, but he couldn't give up just yet. He grabbed his weathered notebook, which had become a cherished companion, and ventured outside once more.

With the daring book in hand, Tom wandered through different areas of the island, hoping to stumble upon something captivating or awe-inspiring. Unfortunately, the search yielded no exciting discoveries yet again. But instead of immediately returning to the lab, Tom decided to spend some time outdoors, surrounded by the island's natural beauty.

He found a peaceful spot, a clearing overlooking a breathtaking view of the ocean. Taking a seat on weathered rock, Tom opened his notebook and began to draw. He sketched the waves crashing against the shore, the swaying palm trees, and the distant horizon. In the act of capturing the scene on paper, he found solace and a connection to the island that he hadn't felt before.

Hours passed as Tom lost himself in his artwork. The lines and shapes that emerged on the page expressed his emotions, capturing the essence of his experiences on the island. Drawing became his refuge, a way to process the disappointments and create something meaningful amidst the challenges.

As the sun started to descend toward the horizon, casting a warm golden glow, Tom decided it was time to head back to the lab. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, reminding him of the meal he had skipped once again. Determined to take care of himself, he made his way to the communal dining area.

Inside the lab, he found a piece of bread, the simplest of offerings, and took it with him to his room. Despite his diminished appetite, he knew he needed sustenance to keep going. Sitting at the cluttered desk, he nibbled on the bread, forcing himself to eat, even if it was just a small amount.

With the hunger somewhat appeased, Tom contemplated the events of the day. Although he hadn't found the thrilling adventure he had hoped for, he had found solace in art and a quiet connection to the island's beauty. The disappointments still lingered, but he realized that even in the face of adversity, there were moments of peace and personal growth.

With the taste of bread lingering on his lips, Tom decided to be kinder to himself. He acknowledged that his journey on the island might not be the thrilling escapade he had envisioned, but he would make the most of the situation. Determined to continue seeking moments of inspiration and connection, he closed his weary eyes, hoping for a better tomorrow, filled with newfound discoveries and a sense of fulfillment.

Tom woke up with a glimmer of hope, deciding to break his pattern and have breakfast before heading out for the day. He made his way to the communal dining area and gathered some food, trying to convince himself to nourish his body despite the lingering disappointment.

As he turned to head back to his room, he was stopped in his tracks by his mom. For a brief moment, Tom's heart skipped a beat, thinking that his mom wanted to have a meaningful conversation with him. However, his hope was swiftly dashed when his mom simply reminded him to clean his room.

The weight of disappointment settled back upon Tom, overshadowing any remnants of appetite he had mustered. He nodded absentmindedly in response to his mom, unable to articulate his feelings or express his longing for a deeper connection.

Carrying his tray of food, Tom trudged back to his room, the weight of disappointment now accompanied by a loss of appetite. He sat at the cluttered desk, surrounded by the remnants of his drawings and the remnants of his hunger.

Trying to push past the emotional turmoil, Tom picked at his breakfast, forcing himself to eat, even though each bite seemed to lose its flavor. The disappointment had permeated his being, robbing him of the enjoyment of even the simplest pleasures.

He stared at the half-eaten meal, his thoughts muddled with frustration and sadness. The lack of a meaningful connection with his mom added to his sense of isolation and made the food feel even more tasteless and unappetizing.

Tom sighed, realizing that the disappointment had taken a toll on both his emotional and physical well-being. He knew that he needed to find a way to navigate these feelings and find some semblance of happiness in his current circumstances, even if it meant seeking solace within himself.

With a heavy heart, he set aside the remaining food, recognizing that his lack of appetite wasn't something he could easily overcome. He decided to take some time to rest, to find moments of solace in his own thoughts and reflections.

Curling up on the uncomfortable bed, Tom closed his eyes and allowed himself to process the disappointments that had plagued him. He acknowledged the hurt, the longing, and the need for understanding and connection.

In this quiet space, Tom resolved to keep searching for moments of joy, no matter how small or fleeting they may seem. He knew that he had his drawings, his notebook, and the resilience within him to persevere, even in the face of disappointment.

As he drifted into a troubled sleep, he held onto a glimmer of hope, hoping that a new day would bring renewed possibilities, a shift in perspective, and the strength to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.

Tom's eyes fluttered open, and as he glanced at the clock, he realized that he had slept through the day and now woke up at dinner time. Although disoriented by the sudden shift in his sleep schedule, he saw an opportunity in the darkness that enveloped the island.

A sense of curiosity and the desire for a change of scenery sparked within Tom. He decided to embrace the night and embark on a nighttime stroll, hoping to discover a different side of the island, one that might hold hidden wonders under the moonlit sky.

Eager to explore the nocturnal landscape, Tom quickly dressed and stepped outside. The cool night air wrapped around him, carrying a sense of tranquility and mystery. The familiar paths and landmarks of the island now took on an entirely different ambiance.

As he ventured forth, the familiar sights transformed under the gentle glow of the moon. Shadows danced and whispered secrets and the sounds of nature seemed more vibrant in the stillness of the night. The island, once seemingly uninteresting, now held an air of mystique and untapped potential.

Tom walked along the beach, the soft sand beneath his feet illuminated by the moon's gentle radiance. The crashing waves created a soothing symphony that echoed in his ears. He reveled in the solitude and the beauty of the night, feeling a renewed sense of awe and wonder.

In the distance, he spotted a group of trees, their silhouettes reaching toward the night sky like ancient sentinels. Intrigued by their presence, Tom deviated from his path and ventured into the depths of the forest. The rustling leaves and the subtle chirping of nocturnal creatures accompanied his exploration, heightening his senses and igniting his imagination.

As he continued his nighttime stroll, Tom found himself captivated by the play of light and shadow, sketching mental images in his mind. The surroundings, bathed in moonlight, seemed to come alive with a kind of ethereal beauty that he had not noticed before.
Lost in his thoughts and the enchantment of the night, Tom eventually made his way back to the research facility. The sounds of distant laughter and conversation filled the air, a reminder of the camaraderie he had yet to fully experience. But this time, his disappointment was tempered by the newfound sense of wonder he had discovered during his nighttime stroll.

Hungry from his adventures, Tom decided to make his way to the dining area. Despite his lack of appetite, he recognized the importance of nourishing his body after a long day. He filled his plate with a modest selection of food, allowing himself to indulge in the flavors and textures, even if his hunger was not fully awakened.

With a contented yet contemplative heart, Tom retreated to his room. He settled into the uncomfortable bed, his mind filled with the memories of the night and the possibilities that lay ahead. As he drifted off to sleep, he held onto the hope that his explorations, both during the day and in the nocturnal hours, would continue to unveil the hidden treasures of the island, and perhaps bring him closer to the connection and fulfillment he longed for.

As Tom settled back into his room, the echoes of his nighttime stroll still lingering in his mind, he found solace in the familiar embrace of his art supplies. The pencil felt comforting in his hand as he opened his weathered notebook once again, ready to pour his thoughts and emotions onto the blank pages.

Seeking inspiration, Tom's imagination took flight. His pencil danced across the paper, creating intricate lines and shapes that gradually formed mythical creatures. Dragons emerged from his drawings, their majestic forms brought to life by his hand.

Each stroke of the pencil allowed Tom to escape into a world of fantasy and wonder, where the limitations of reality seemed to fade away. He envisioned the dragons soaring through the skies, their scales glimmering in the moonlight, and fire breathing from their jaws. With each detail, he infused his creations with a sense of awe and power.

The act of drawing these mythical creatures provided a sense of liberation for Tom. It allowed him to channel his emotions into something tangible and extraordinary. As he continued to sketch, he found himself engrossed in the process, captivated by the magic unfolding on the pages before him.

The room, illuminated by a soft, warm glow from a dim lamp, became a sanctuary of creativity and imagination. Tom's sketches transported him to a realm where disappointment and dissatisfaction held no power, replaced instead by the limitless possibilities of his artistic expression.

Hours slipped by as Tom immersed himself in his drawings, the dragons taking on a life of their own within the pages of his notebook. With each completed sketch, a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction washed over him, momentarily overshadowing the weight of his unmet expectations.

As he gazed at the collection of mythical creatures he had created, Tom couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and joy. These drawings represented a tangible reminder of his ability to find solace and purpose in his creativity, regardless of the circumstances surrounding him.

With a newfound sense of contentment, Tom carefully closed his notebook, tucking it away alongside the countless pages that held his artistic expression. The dragons remained captured within those pages, guardians of his imagination and a testament to his resilience.

As he settled into the uncomfortable bed, Tom allowed the visions of mythical creatures to accompany him into his dreams. The dragons became his companions, soaring through the skies of his imagination, symbolizing the strength and courage he would need to face the challenges that awaited him on the island.

As Tom gathered his thoughts and prepared to venture outside once more, he found himself face-to-face with his mother in the hallway. Startled by the encounter, his concentration wavered, causing him to accidentally knock over a vial from a nearby table. The vial shattered, its contents spilling onto the floor in a messy puddle.

Tom's mother let out a frustrated sigh, her disappointment was evident in her voice. "Tom, how many times do I have to tell you to be more careful? You're always causing trouble. Clean up this mess immediately and go to your room. I don't want any more distractions from you."

The weight of his mother's chastisement hit Tom like a blow, amplifying his existing disappointment and feelings of inadequacy. He stood frozen for a moment, unable to respond, before nodding silently and complying with her request. The air felt heavy as he made his way back to his room, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

Inside the confines of his room, the emotions that had been building up within him finally reached a breaking point. Tom sank onto the uncomfortable bed, his mind and heart overwhelmed with a mixture of anger, sadness, and a deep sense of loneliness.

He clenched his fists, his frustration intensifying as he replayed the countless moments when he felt unheard and invisible in his mother's presence. The inability to connect with her on a meaningful level gnawed at his soul, leaving him feeling isolated and misunderstood.

Tears welled up in Tom's eyes as he contemplated the unbridgeable gap between them. He longed for his mother's support, her understanding, but it seemed to elude him at every turn. The weight of unmet expectations crushed his spirit, and he couldn't help but question his own worth.

In his anguish, Tom desperately sought an escape, a way to release the pent-up emotions that threatened to suffocate him. He reached for his old notebook, the pages filled with his drawings and dreams, and clutched it tightly in his hands.

With trembling fingers, he opened the notebook to a blank page and let his pencil glide across the paper. But this time, his strokes were jagged, his lines filled with the turmoil that consumed him. He poured his frustration onto the page, creating chaotic images that reflected the storm raging within.

As he drew, the tears flowed freely, blurring the lines of his artwork. The raw emotions merged with the graphite, intertwining with his sketches, creating a tangible representation of his inner turmoil. Each stroke became a silent scream, a desperate plea for understanding.

Exhausted from the emotional outpouring, Tom set aside his drawings and collapsed onto the bed. The room was enveloped in heavy silence, broken only by his uneven breaths and the remnants of his sobs. He stayed there for the rest of the day only getting up to use the bathroom and get something to drink. Soon enough he fell into another restless slumber.

Chapter Text

As the sun began its ascent, casting a golden glow across the island, Tom woke up with a sense of curiosity tingling in his veins. Today, he decided to venture out once again, hoping to discover something new and exciting, even if he wasn't specifically searching for the other children.

With a determined stride, Tom stepped outside, the chilly island air causing a slight shiver to run down his spine. The island, with its dense foliage and hidden pathways, seemed to hold countless secrets waiting to be unraveled.

As Tom explored further, his eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of intrigue. However, with each step, he found nothing but the familiar sights and sounds he had already become accustomed to. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, the waves crashed against the shore, and the distant cries of seagulls filled the air.

Tom couldn't help but feel a slight dampening of his mood. Disappointment tugged at his heart, whispering doubts about the excitement and adventure he had hoped to find. Yet, he pressed on, determined to make the most of his day.

He roamed along the shoreline, the sand beneath his feet leaving imprints of his solitary journey. Seashells of various sizes and colors caught his eye, and he paused for a moment to collect a few, their delicate patterns captivating his imagination.

As Tom continued his exploration, he came across a cluster of rocks, their jagged edges contrasting with the softness of the sand. He sat down, finding solace in the stillness of the moment. Pulling out his worn notebook and a pencil, he began to sketch, allowing his mind to wander and his hand to translate his thoughts onto the page.

Drawing became his sanctuary, a way to channel his emotions and capture the essence of the island's beauty. In the strokes of his pencil, he depicted the vastness of the ocean, and the majestic flight of birds, and even imagined mythical creatures roaming the unexplored depths of the island.

Time seemed to slip away as Tom immersed himself in his artwork, momentarily forgetting about his initial disappointment. The tranquility of the island embraced him, its peace washing away the lingering traces of discontent.

As the sun descended on the horizon, casting vibrant hues across the sky, Tom reluctantly packed away his notebook. Though he hadn't stumbled upon any remarkable discoveries on this particular day, he reminded himself that sometimes, the journey itself held value beyond the destination.

Returning to the lab, Tom found a quiet corner in his room. The scent of fresh ocean air wafted through the window, mingling with the fading light of the day. He sat on his bed, reflecting on his solo expedition and the moments of serenity he had experienced.
As he savored the solitude, a newfound sense of contentment enveloped Tom's being. He realized that even in the absence of extraordinary findings, he had uncovered a deeper connection with the island and within himself.

With a tranquil smile, Tom decided to embrace the next day with open arms, ready to embark on new adventures and eager to embrace whatever surprises lay ahead. For there was beauty in the unknown, and he had a feeling that the island still held wonders waiting to be discovered.

As Tom made his way to the helicopter bay, his anticipation grew with each step. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity about the arrival of the new kids on the island. He wondered who they would be and how they would fit into the dynamic of their isolated community.

As he approached the helicopter bay, he saw the helicopters touch down one by one, the sound of their rotors cutting through the air. His eyes scanned the area, eager to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals. And that's when he saw her.

Standing by one of the helicopters was Jun, his childhood best friend. A wave of surprise washed over Tom, as he hadn't expected to see someone so familiar among the newcomers. He watched as Jun stepped off the helicopter, her confident demeanor evident in every step.
"Jun?" Tom called out, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. "Is that really you?"

Jun turned toward the sound of his voice, her amber eyes meeting his gaze. A self-assured smile played on her lips as she recognized Tom. "Well, well, if it isn't Tom. Looks like this dull lab finally has a glimmer of hope."
"Good to see you too, Jun," Tom replied, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. "I'm sure your magnificent house is far more thrilling than this little island." Jun chuckled, her self-assured demeanor unaffected by Tom's retort. "Oh, Tom, you have no idea. My house is like a paradise compared to this place. But who knows, maybe you'll find some excitement now that I'm here."

Despite her slightly narcissistic comment, there was still a glimmer of kindness in Jun's words, a faint acknowledgment of their shared history. Tom couldn't deny the familiarity and connection they had, even if it came packaged with her self-centered nature.

As they began to catch up, Tom found himself navigating a delicate balance. Tom couldn't help but feel a mix of exasperation and fondness for his childhood friend. He understood that her narcissistic tendencies were deeply ingrained, but he also recognized that beneath it all, she had a spark of adventure and excitement that he found intriguing.

Eventually, Tom decides he wants to try and meet with the other new kids but isn’t sure how to tell Jun that. As he mustered the courage to say goodbye, he couldn't help but wonder how their paths would cross again on this island. "Jun, it was great seeing you again," Tom said, offering a polite smile. "But I think it would be a good idea if I try meeting with the other new kids."

Jun smirked, her self-assured demeanor shining through. "Of course, Tom. I'm sure you'll find something to keep you entertained. Just don't get yourself into too much trouble."
Tom chuckled, acknowledging the playful warning. "Don't worry, Jun. Trouble has a way of finding me, but I'll do my best to stay out of it."

With a final wave, Tom turned away from Jun and set off on his own once more, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Little did he know that another encounter awaited him just around the corner.
As he ventured further, lost in his thoughts, a voice broke through the air, catching his attention.

"Hey there, you must be Tom," it called out.
Tom turned, his eyes landing on a stocky teenager with a flattop hairstyle, dressed in a military-like attire. His initial surprise gave way to curiosity.

"Yeah, that's me," Tom replied, extending a hand. "And you are...?"
The teenager shook Tom's hand firmly. "The name's D'Angelo. I heard you've been causing quite a stir around here with your adventure-seeking ways."

Tom couldn't help but feel a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. "I guess you've heard right. But I like to think of it as adding a bit of excitement to this place."

D'Angelo raised an eyebrow, his strict adherence to rules apparent. "Well, some might call it excitement, but others might call it trouble. I prefer to keep things in order and follow the protocols," Tom chuckled, recognizing the contrast between their perspectives. "I suppose we're on opposite ends of the spectrum then," D'Angelo nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips," Seems that way. But who knows, maybe our differences will make this island experience even more interesting."

As they exchanged a few more pleasantries, Tom couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue about D'Angelo. Mauve they could be friends, he seems nice enough.

After parting ways with D'Angelo, Tom's curiosity led him on a search for the third newcomer, the girl he had seen briefly and whose name he didn't yet know. He scanned the area, his eyes darting around in hopes of catching another glimpse of her unique appearance. Her hair held together by red and purple USB charging cables was a distinct feature, but he hadn't had the chance to interact with her or learn her name.

Tom's footsteps took him through the research station, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings as he kept an eye out for the girl. He wandered through the corridors and common areas, hoping to stumble upon her.

However, no matter how diligently he looked, there was no sign of her. It was as if she had disappeared entirely. Frustration gnawed at him, as he had been eager to meet this new acquaintance and understand more about her.

With a sigh of disappointment, Tom decided to abandon the search for now. He made his way back to his room, hoping that a change of scenery and some time to himself would help alleviate his frustration.

Once inside his room, Tom retrieved his notebook and pencil. Drawing had always been his way of processing emotions and thoughts. As the lines and shapes took form on the paper, he found himself immersed in the act of creation, momentarily forgetting his earlier disappointment.

As the sun began to set and the room grew dimmer, Tom continued to sketch. The rhythmic movement of his hand on the paper was soothing, and he found a sense of solace in the act of creation. The drawing on the paper seemed to reflect not only his surroundings but also his emotions, a visual representation of his journey on the island.

In the quiet of his room, Tom reflected on the encounters of the day. The interactions with Jun, and D'Angelo were shaping his experience on the island. Each interaction brought its own set of emotions and challenges, reminding him of the diverse perspectives that existed within their small community. As the evening deepened, Tom found himself drawing for hours, and eventually without realizing he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

As Tom woke up from his unexpected nap, he couldn't help but silently curse himself for falling asleep so early in the day. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, feeling a mix of disorientation and a hint of annoyance at himself. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he was surprised to see that it was already 10:35 A.M. He hadn't anticipated sleeping for that long.

With a shake of his head, Tom decided to brush off his frustration. He had been pushing himself to explore and interact with others, so maybe his body had needed the rest more than he realized. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling the stiffness in his muscles from his extended slumber.

Turning his attention to the scattered art supplies around him, Tom began to carefully put them away. He picked up his sketches and drawings, storing them neatly in a folder to keep them safe. As he organized his pencils and erasers, he allowed his mind to wander over the events of the past few days.

Meeting Jun, D'Angelo, and the mysterious girl whose name he didn't know had all contributed to a range of emotions and experiences. Each encounter had brought a different perspective, challenging his own views and adding layers of complexity to his understanding of the island and its inhabitants.

With his art supplies tidied away, Tom stood up and stretched again, this time feeling a sense of renewal. He realized that while his initial plans might not have gone as expected, there was still plenty of time to explore and connect with others. The island was a canvas of its own, filled with possibilities waiting to be uncovered.

As he looked out the window, he noticed the sunlight streaming in, casting a warm glow across the room. It was a new day, a fresh opportunity to embrace whatever adventures lay ahead. Tom's earlier frustration began to fade, replaced by a sense of anticipation for the experiences that awaited him.

With a final glance around his room, Tom decided to venture out once more. He had learned that the island held surprises around every corner, and he was determined to make the most of each encounter, no matter where they led. As he stepped outside, he couldn't help but wonder what the day had in store for him.

Feeling determined to make the most of the day, Tom decided to take a stroll around the research station in hopes of finding any of the other kids he had encountered before. He figured it was a good opportunity to catch up with Jun or perhaps even cross paths with that unknown gir. With a sense of purpose, he stepped outside, the fresh air rejuvenating his spirit.

As he wandered through the pathways of the station, Tom's eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for any familiar faces. However, his search led him to an unexpected encounter. There, standing by one of the observation decks, was D'Angelo.

Tom approached him with a friendly smile. "Hey, D'Angelo! How's it going?"
D'Angelo turned towards him, his expression a mix of surprise and what seemed like a hint of disappointment. "Tom. I was wondering where you were this morning. You seem to be taking your time."

Tom scratched his head, feeling a bit caught off guard by D'Angelo's reaction. "Yeah, sorry about that. I accidentally slept in a bit longer than I planned. Time just got away from me."
D'Angelo's disappointment was palpable as he shook his head. "Slept in? We have responsibilities here, Tom. It's important to stick to schedules and be productive."

Tom felt a twinge of unease at D'Angelo's stern tone. He hadn't anticipated such a strong reaction to his late start. "I know, D'Angelo. It won't happen again. I just lost track of time."

D'Angelo's expression softened slightly, his military-like demeanor giving way to a more measured tone. "Look, Tom, we're all here to contribute and make the most of our time on this island. Being lazy or lacking discipline won't get us anywhere."

Tom nodded, his mood dampened by D'Angelo's reprimand. He had been looking forward to a day of exploration and connection, but now he felt a sense of guilt for not adhering to D'Angelo's standards of discipline.

"I get it, D'Angelo. You're right," Tom replied, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'll make sure to get up earlier from now on."

D'Angelo's gaze remained steady as he offered a nod of approval. "Good. It's important to be responsible and committed."

As they exchanged a few more words, Tom's earlier enthusiasm had dimmed considerably. He had been hoping for a positive encounter, a chance to connect with one of the other kids, but instead, he found himself chastised for a simple mistake. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow failing to meet the expectations of the others on the island.

With a heavy sigh, Tom bid D'Angelo farewell and continued his walk, his footsteps heavier than before. The encounter had left a sour taste in his mouth, overshadowing the excitement he had felt earlier. As he walked, he couldn't help but wonder how he would ever fit in with this group of diverse personalities and stringent standards.

Determined to shake off the lingering disappointment from his encounter with D'Angelo, Tom continued his search for Jun. He believed that a conversation with her might help improve his mood and provide some of the connection he had been seeking. After a bit of wandering, he finally spotted Jun sitting by herself on a bench, engrossed in her phone.

Tom approached with a hopeful smile, trying to put the previous encounter behind him. "Hey, Jun. Mind if I join you?"

Without looking up from her phone, Jun waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, hey. Sure, whatever."
Tom's enthusiasm wavered slightly at her nonchalant response, but he pushed on. "How's your day been?"

Jun let out a bored sigh, still not lifting her gaze from the screen. "Eh, same old stuff. Not much going on around here."

Tom nodded, his attempt at conversation feeling like it was falling flat. "Yeah, I get that. Sometimes this place can feel a bit... dull."

Jun finally glanced up from her phone, her amber eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at Tom. "Dull? You think this place is dull? Maybe you're just not used to real excitement."

Tom's eyebrows furrowed at her slightly confrontational tone. "No, that's not what I meant. I just..."
Jun rolled her eyes, cutting him off. "Look, I don't really have time for small talk right now. I've got better things to do."

Tom felt a pang of irritation at her dismissive attitude, but he tried to remain calm. "I was just hoping we could chat, you know? Get to know each other a bit better."

Jun let out a scoff, clearly uninterested. "Yeah, well, I've got better things to do than chat with someone who's just gonna slow me down."

Tom was taken aback by her bluntness, his attempt at connection thwarted once again. He nodded, masking his disappointment. "Alright, no problem. Maybe some other time."

Jun barely acknowledged his response, already engrossed in her phone once more. Tom turned away, his earlier hopes of finding camaraderie with Jun now completely deflated.

As he walked away, he couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and rejection. It seemed that even his attempts at reaching out to others were met with resistance. The island, which had initially seemed like a place of adventure and possibility, was starting to feel isolating and unwelcoming.

Tom's shoulders slumped as he continued his stroll, his mood weighed down by the recent interactions. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was struggling to find his place among the other kids and their distinct personalities. With a heavy sigh, he resolved to find solace once more in his drawings, hoping that the paper and pencil could offer a sense of connection that the real world seemed to be denying him.

Fishing had provided a temporary distraction, but as time went on, Tom's interest waned. The repetitive motion of casting the line and waiting for a bite began to lose its appeal. He knew he needed a change of scenery to shake off the restlessness that had settled within him.

With a sigh, Tom carefully set aside the fishing rod and guide, tucking them back into the corner where he had found them. He stood up, feeling the need to move and explore. He realized that he had only seen a limited part of the research facility so far. His interactions with the other kids had been mostly confined to the areas he knew well – his room, the cafeteria, and his mother's workplace.

Determined to break out of this routine, Tom left his room and headed down the corridor. He walked past his mother's workplace, curious about what the other parts of the facility held. He wandered through unfamiliar hallways, taking note of various rooms and doors he hadn't noticed before.

As he explored, he stumbled upon a common area with comfortable chairs and a large window that offered a view of the island's landscape. He realized that he hadn't taken the time to appreciate the beauty of the place, too consumed by his own thoughts and disappointments.

Continuing his exploration, he found a small library filled with books and research materials. He browsed the shelves, intrigued by the diverse topics they covered. It struck him that there was so much to learn and discover within the walls of the facility, beyond his narrow view of it.

His exploration eventually led him to a recreation room with games and activities that he hadn't tried yet. He picked up a puzzle and began to piece it together, his mind focused on the challenge at hand. It was a welcome change from the monotony of his previous activities.

As he engaged in these new experiences, Tom felt a sense of liberation. The facility, once perceived as a place of confinement, now held the promise of discovery and growth. He realized that there was so much more to this place than he had initially assumed.
In the midst of his exploration, Tom's thoughts shifted away from his previous disappointments.

He found solace in the simple act of discovering new areas and engaging in different activities. It was a reminder that even in challenging times, there were opportunities for change and connection, waiting to be uncovered.

Feeling increasingly uninterested in the repetitive action of pretending to fish, Tom decided it was time for a change. He had spent enough time in his room and the limited areas he knew well. He realized that he hadn't really explored beyond his mother's workplace, the cafeteria, and his own room.

With a new determination, Tom left his room and began to wander through the facility's corridors. He passed by his mother's workplace and ventured further, curious about what other spaces lay ahead. However, much to his disappointment, everything he encountered seemed just as dull and uninteresting as he had feared.

Rooms appeared identical, and the corridors seemed to stretch on endlessly. The more Tom explored, the more he realized that the facility held little to capture his attention or imagination. The sense of monotony weighed heavily on him, making it difficult to muster any enthusiasm for his surroundings.

Tom's steps grew slower as he continued his exploration. He found a common area with some chairs and a window, but even the view outside seemed unremarkable. He moved on, hoping to stumble upon something that would break the cycle of blandness he had found himself in.

His search eventually led him to a small library filled with books and research materials. He perused the shelves, but the topics held no interest for him. It was as if every corner of the facility was shrouded in the same sense of monotony he had encountered before.

Tom's mood sank further as he moved from room to room, finding no reprieve from the pervasive sense of boredom. He had hoped that by exploring more, he would uncover hidden gems or experiences that would bring some excitement to his days on the island. Instead, he was met with the same blandness that seemed to permeate every corner of the facility.

Bored with the repetitive routine and eager to find something new, Tom's wandering eventually led him to a room name “plant lab”. The moment he stepped inside, he was met with a vibrant and intricate world of plants and scientific equipment. The room was teeming with life, a stark contrast to the monotonous surroundings he had become accustomed to.

Tom's curiosity was piqued as he gazed at the array of plants, each one unique in its appearance and characteristics. He moved cautiously among the vegetation, taking in the sights and the distinct aroma that permeated the air.

However, his exploration was abruptly interrupted by a voice behind him. Startled, Tom turned around quickly, his heart racing as he struggled not to disturb any of the delicate plant specimens. His eyes landed on a young man, likely in his late teens, standing there with an air of familiarity with the surroundings.

The man had dark brown eyes and hair that was neatly combed backwards. He wore a lab coat and gloves, giving him the appearance of a scientist deeply engaged in his work. Tom's initial surprise gave way to a sense of curiosity as the man spoke.

"It's cool, isn't it?" the man remarked, his tone carrying a mixture of enthusiasm and warmth.
Tom nodded slowly, still slightly taken aback by the unexpected encounter. "Yeah, it's something," he replied, his gaze sweeping over the lush foliage around him. He couldn't help but notice the name tag on the man's lab coat. "You're... Lennard?" Tom asked, trying to recall the name.

The man's expression shifted momentarily, as if the name held some significance he wasn't fond of. "Actually, I prefer to go by Aspen," he said with a slight smile. "It's my favorite type of tree."
Tom nodded, understanding that the man had chosen a name that resonated with him more. "Aspen, then," he acknowledged with a friendly smile of his own. "I'm Tom."

Aspen's smile widened, and he gestured to the surrounding plants. "Tom, welcome to the plant lab. These beauties here are like a world of their own. Each one has a story to tell, a role to play in our understanding of nature."

Tom found himself drawn in by Aspen's enthusiasm. He felt a flicker of interest and connection, something he hadn't experienced in a while. As Aspen continued to talk about the plants and their significance, Tom's boredom and frustration seemed to momentarily recede. The plant lab, once just another room in the facility, now held a promise of discovery and engagement that he had been desperately seeking.

As Tom remained engaged in conversation with Aspen, the atmosphere in the lab shifted with the entrance of three men. Aspen's enthusiastic reaction drew Tom's attention as he eagerly approached the newcomers, seemingly excited to introduce Tom to them.

With a broad smile, Aspen gestured toward Tom and spoke up. "Hey guys, this is Tom. He's been around here for a while now."

The middle-aged man with short brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and warm brown eyes stepped forward, extending his hand toward Tom. He wore a brown sweater and dark blue jeans, radiating an air of affability. A brown cap adorned with what seemed to be the company symbol rested on his head.

"Nice to meet you, Tom," the man greeted with genuine friendliness. "I'm Dood."
Aspen's excitement didn't waver as he gestured toward the other two men, a sense of camaraderie evident in the room.

"Allow me to introduce you to my brothers," Dood continued, emphasizing the familial connection. "This is Ford." He motioned toward the second man, who sported a white beard and mustache along with his short brown hair. Ford's attire, a dark grey sweater and blue jeans, exuded a sense of calm and collectedness.

"Hey there," Ford greeted with a nod and a warm smile, his hazel eyes reflecting a depth of understanding.

Dood then turned his attention to the third man, who stood with a welcoming expression. "And this is Winston." He motioned toward the man in the dark blue sweater and white jacket adorned with fluorescent patches. The short brown hair and hazel eyes lent Winston an air of approachability.

Winston extended his hand toward Tom, his smile genuine and inviting. Dood interjected briefly to provide context to their relationship.

"We aren't actually biological brothers," Dood explained with a smile, "but we consider each other family in every sense of the word."

Tom found himself intrigued by the strong bond shared by Dood, Ford, and Winston. Their introductions had momentarily shifted his focus from Aspen's conversation, but the genuine connection among the trio was both heartening and captivating.

With introductions concluded, Tom exchanged nods and smiles with each of them. The lab, once a solitary space, had now become the backdrop for unexpected interactions and the beginning of potential friendships.

As the day gradually transitioned into evening, Tom felt the need to retreat to his room. He bid farewell to Dood, Ford, and Winston with a friendly wave and a sense of contentment. The interactions of the day had left a positive impression on him, offering a glimpse of camaraderie and shared interests that he had been craving.

Returning to his room, Tom's newfound inspiration sparked a desire to draw once more. With his art supplies laid out before him, he let his creativity flow onto the paper, giving life to his thoughts and emotions. The lines and colors on the canvas began to tell a story, reflecting the hope that had started to blossom within him.

In the solitude of his room, Tom found solace in his art. The images he created echoed the connections he had made and the sense of belonging he had begun to feel. The encounters with Aspen, Dood, Ford, and Winston had kindled a sense of optimism, reminding him that there was more to this place than he had initially thought.

As the evening stretched on, Tom's pencil danced across the paper, capturing moments of inspiration and glimpses of a world he had yet to fully explore. The room became a sanctuary of creativity, and for a while, any lingering worries or frustrations seemed to fade into the background.

The day's encounters had ignited a spark within Tom, a spark that fueled his passion for art and his eagerness to continue exploring the possibilities that the research facility held. With newfound friendships and a shared curiosity, he felt a sense of renewal that promised brighter days ahead.

As the night wrapped its comforting veil around the facility, Tom made the conscious decision to retire to bed earlier than usual. Aware of the need to wake up at a specific time, he meticulously set his alarm clock for 6 A.M., a time that would hopefully prevent another encounter with D'Angelo's disapproval.

Lying in bed, Tom pushed aside any lingering feelings of resentment towards D'Angelo's chastisement earlier. As he closed his eyes, Tom's thoughts drifted towards the positive experiences he had throughout the day. The moments spent in the plant lab with Aspen and the three brothers had ignited a spark of excitement within him. He pondered the possibilities of deepening those connections and learning more about the fascinating world beyond the lab's walls.

The gentle rhythm of his breath and the stillness of the night gradually lulled Tom into a state of peaceful slumber. As he drifted off, he carried with him a sense of anticipation for what the next day might bring, hopeful for the chance to engage with Aspen, Dood, Ford, and Winston once again.

Chapter Text

As the morning sun began to cast its soft glow through Tom's window, a persistent chime filled the air, rousing him from his slumber. Blinking away the remnants of his dreams, he reached out to silence the insistent alarm clock. The abrupt interruption to his peaceful sleep was met with a mix of grogginess and determination.

Rubbing his eyes, Tom swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself upright. The promise of a new day beckoned, and he couldn't ignore the anticipation that welled within him. With a decisive nod, he set his sights on the plant lab where he hoped to find Aspen, Dood, Ford, and Winston – the newfound connections that had brought a spark of excitement to his island existence.

Arriving at the lab, Tom's hopeful expression faltered slightly as he discovered the space vacant, devoid of the presence he had expected. The disappointment that flickered in his chest was quickly replaced by a pragmatic understanding. They were, after all, scientists deeply engrossed in their work, and the ebb and flow of their schedules might not always align with his own.

Shrugging off the minor setback, Tom decided to seize the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors. It dawned on him that he had spent much of his time within the confines of the facility, and the allure of the island's unexplored expanses beckoned him. With a wistful glance around the lab, he stepped back outside, inhaling the crisp morning air that carried the promise of new experiences.
His footsteps carried him along winding paths, leading him through pockets of nature's splendor. The whisper of leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, the distant symphony of waves crashing against the shore – they enveloped him in a sense of tranquility that he had been missing. He marveled at the intricate beauty of the island's flora and fauna, finding solace in the simplicity of the moment.

As Tom continued his journey, a thought occurred to him – he had explored a lot of the island, but he had yet to truly know it’s every nook and cranny so maybe there’s still a chance for him to find something cool. His explorations had been limited to certain areas, and he realized that he had barely scratched the surface of what this place had to offer. A newfound curiosity fueled his steps, propelling him further into the unknown.

Yet, despite his eagerness, the landscape seemed to stretch on endlessly, its mysteries remaining elusive. Tom walked for what felt like hours, each step revealing more of the island's natural wonders, yet offering no distinct revelations. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, he found himself reaching a point of reflection, trying his best to not be disappointed by the outcome.

As Tom walked along the path, his thoughts began to wander, carried away by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant call of seabirds. It was in the midst of this tranquil reverie that an abrupt interruption shattered the peace – a deafening roar, like nothing he had ever heard before. The sound reverberated through the air, sending a shiver down his spine.

He froze in his tracks, his heart racing as he tried to make sense of the inexplicable noise. It wasn't just any roar – it carried a visceral note of agony, as if something powerful and mighty was in distress. Tom's curiosity battled with caution, his mind racing through a whirlwind of scenarios. The allure of uncovering the source of the sound clashed with the very real fear that this could be a dangerous situation.

Images of clichéd horror movie scenes flashed through his mind – unsuspecting characters stumbling upon the unknown, only to find themselves entangled in a nightmarish scenario. Tom's rational side urged him to turn back, to heed the lessons learned from countless on-screen warnings. Yet, there was an undeniable pull, a curiosity that tugged at his thoughts and urged him to investigate.

His internal struggle painted the moment in tension, his mind warring with itself as he grappled with the decision. Ultimately, however, the wariness won out. Tom knew that his safety was paramount, and his instincts told him that venturing towards the source of such an otherworldly sound might not be the wisest course of action.

With a firm resolve, Tom turned away from the enigma that had stirred his curiosity. He retraced his steps, the echoes of the roar fading into the background as he moved away from its source. As he neared the familiar confines of the research facility, a sense of relief washed over him. The choice he had made felt right – it was a choice rooted in caution and self-preservation.

As he pushed open the door to the lab, the events of the morning seemed to slip away, replaced by the slight familiarity of the space. The rhythmic hum of scientific equipment and the faint voices of the scientist resonated within the walls.

With a sigh, Tom knew that while the source of the mysterious roar remained a mystery, he had made a choice that honored his safety. And as he settled back into the rhythms of the research facility, he couldn't help but wonder about the secrets the island still held – secrets that might remain untold, but for now, were better left untouched.

Tom decided to look around the facility once more to see if he missed anything. Intrigued by the prospect of discovering something new within the research facility, Tom's curiosity led him back to the library. The quiet hum of the lights and the rows of shelves filled with books welcomed him like an old friend. As he roamed through the aisles, his eyes scanned the titles, searching for anything that might pique his interest.

As he made his way to the reading area, a flicker of movement caught his attention. There, sitting by a window with a tablet in her hands, was a girl he didn't immediately recognize. Her presence was somehow different from the people he had encountered so far, and a spark of curiosity ignited within him.

Before he could fully process the situation, their eyes met. It was a fleeting moment, a brief connection that held an unspoken question. The girl seemed taken aback, her eyes widening in surprise. In a swift motion, she closed her book and gathered her things, all the while keeping her gaze fixed on him. Then, almost as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone, slipping out of the reading area and disappearing from sight.

Confusion gnawed at Tom as he tried to make sense of the encounter. He replayed the brief interaction in his mind, trying to recall if he had seen her before. And then, like a puzzle piece falling into place, he remembered. She was the girl he had glimpsed when the other kids had arrived on the island.

His thoughts raced as he tried to decipher her sudden departure. Did he do something wrong? Was there a reason she had left so abruptly? Tom shook his head, realizing that he was overthinking things. Maybe she was just shy or had her own reasons for leaving. Eventually, he decided to just go look around for a little longer.

As he walked, a cascade of questions flooded Tom's thoughts. Who was she? Why did she leave so suddenly? Would he get another chance to talk to her and understand her actions?

Eventually, Tom found himself seeking solace in his room once again. His eyes roamed around the space, searching for something to break the monotony. Resting on a shelf was an old wooden box that caught his attention. With a sense of nostalgia, he reached for it and gently opened it, revealing a pocket knife nestled inside.

The knife's handle was adorned in a deep and rich shade of blue, its polished surface reflecting a soft glow. It had been a gift from his late great-grandfather, a cherished heirloom passed down through the generations on his mother's side of the family. As his fingers traced the contours of the knife, a flood of memories and stories surged forth, connecting him to his family's history.

Tom marveled at the craftsmanship, imagining the hands that had skillfully carved and polished the handle. The blade, gleaming silver, held a sharpness that seemed to mirror the resilience of those who had come before him. The weight of the pocket knife in his hand carried with it a sense of continuity, a tangible link to his roots.

With a quiet resolve, Tom decided to keep the pocket knife with him, slipping it into his pocket. He felt a subtle reassurance knowing that a piece of his family's legacy was always within arm's reach. As he moved about his room, his thoughts drifted to his great-grandfather's stories, the struggles and triumphs that had shaped his ancestors' journey.

As the hours passed and the room dimmed with the onset of evening, Tom found himself sitting by the window, lost in contemplation. The pocket knife, a simple yet profound artifact, embodied the spirit of generations past. Its presence served as a bridge that connected him to the stories, values, and resilience of his maternal lineage. After awhile Tom decided to get up and walk around a bit more before he went to bed.

As the day began to wane, Tom's curiosity led him back to the plant lab once more, hoping to find some companionship among the scientists. Pushing open the door, he stepped into the lab and his eyes fell upon Aspen, who was engrossed in tending to his collection of plants. A warm smile spread across Tom's face as he watched the young man in action.

Turning at the sound of the door, Aspen's face lit up in recognition. "Hey there!" he greeted, his enthusiasm palpable. "Welcome back."

Tom's heart felt lighter as he met Aspen's welcoming gaze. "Thanks," he replied, his voice carrying a genuine warmth. "I was just wandering around and thought I'd stop by."

Aspen gestured around the lab, the plants seemingly thriving under his care. "Well, you're always welcome here. These guys," he motioned to the various plants around them, "they don't mind some company either."

Tom's eyes roamed over the diverse collection of plants, each one seemingly unique in its own way. "You really have a way with them," he remarked, his admiration clear.

Aspen chuckled modestly. "I've been at it for a while. Plants have a language of their own, you know? You just need to listen."

Tom nodded in agreement, appreciating the wisdom behind Aspen's words. "It's fascinating how much we can learn from nature."

"Absolutely," Aspen agreed. "So, how's your day been?"

Tom recounted his day, the moments of exploration, the rediscovery of his great-grandfather's pocket knife, and the sense of connection it brought him. Aspen listened attentively, nodding at the right moments. "It's good to find meaning in the little things," he remarked when Tom had finished.

"Yeah, it really is," Tom agreed, a sense of camaraderie settling between them.

Aspen leaned against a table, his eyes thoughtful. "You know, sometimes it's the unexpected things that bring the most joy."

Tom nodded, feeling a sense of resonance with Aspen's words. "Definitely. Like stumbling upon this lab and meeting you guys."

A genuine smile curved Aspen's lips. "Well, we're glad to have you here. And I'm sure Ford, Dood, and Winston would say the same."

Aspen's mention of the others reminded Tom of the intriguing trio he had met earlier. "I hope I'll get to know them better too."

"Absolutely," Aspen replied. "We're like a quirky family here. Different backgrounds, different interests, but somehow it all comes together."

Tom felt a sense of anticipation building within him. "I'm looking forward to it."

Aspen clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. We're all in this adventure together."

As the conversation flowed, Tom felt a sense of belonging settling within him. The plant lab, once unfamiliar, was becoming a place of connection and discovery. And as he chatted with Aspen, he realized that sometimes, the best discoveries were the relationships that blossomed when you least expected them.

After spending some time talking and sharing stories, Aspen's eyes lit up with a new idea. "Hey, want to see my plant foraging book?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Tom's curiosity piqued, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Sure, that sounds really interesting."

Aspen led the way to a corner of the lab where a worn but well-maintained book rested on a shelf. With a gentle touch, he picked up the book and handed it to Tom. "This is my little treasure trove of knowledge about wild plants," he explained, his eyes gleaming with passion.

Tom carefully opened the book, revealing pages filled with intricate drawings and detailed descriptions of various plants. "Wow, this is amazing," he remarked, flipping through the pages with fascination.

Aspen pointed to a few pages, his voice taking on an informative tone. "Here are some edible wild plants you might find interesting. And over here, I've marked the ones that are poisonous. It's essential to be able to tell the difference if you're ever foraging."

Tom's eyes scanned the pages, absorbing the information. "This is really helpful. I've always been curious about what you can and can't eat in the wild."

Aspen smiled, clearly pleased that Tom was interested. "Nature provides us with so much, but it's important to respect it and understand it before you take from it."

Tom nodded in agreement. "Definitely. I never realized how intricate the details can be when it comes to identifying plants."

Aspen gestured to a section in the book that showed a comparison between two similar-looking plants. "See this? One is safe to eat, while the other can be harmful. It's all about those little distinctions."

Tom studied the drawings and descriptions closely, appreciating Aspen's guidance. "I'm really grateful you're showing me all of this."

Aspen's smile widened. "It's my pleasure. Sharing knowledge is a way to connect, right?"

After a thorough exploration of the book's contents, Aspen looked at Tom with a twinkle in his eye. "So, what do you say? Would you like a copy of this book? I think you'd make good use of it."

Tom's face broke into a delighted grin. "Absolutely! That would be amazing."

Aspen chuckled and clapped him on the back. "Consider it a gift, then. I'm glad this book found an enthusiastic learner."

Tom's gratitude was evident as he held the book carefully in his hands. "Thank you so much, Aspen. This means a lot."

"Think of it as a way to keep the adventure going," Aspen replied warmly.

As Tom left the plant lab with his newfound treasure, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the knowledge he had gained and the connections he was forming. The island, once filled with uncertainty, was now becoming a place of growth, discovery, and unexpected friendships.

With a sense of contentment, Tom arranged his newly acquired plant foraging book alongside the fishing guide on his desk. The room felt a little cozier now, adorned with the tools of knowledge and adventure. Carefully, he set down the pocket knife his great-grandfather had given him, its blue hue catching the soft light in the room.

As Tom crawled into bed, he couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. From his chance encounters with the mysterious girl to his enlightening conversation with Aspen, it seemed like the island was slowly revealing its hidden layers to him. The uncertainty he had initially felt was giving way to a growing sense of belonging.

With a gentle sigh, he switched off the light and settled under the covers. As his eyes closed, thoughts of wild plants, small outside adventures, and the mysterious girl who always seemed to slip away filled his mind. Sleep beckoned, carrying him into dreams of exploration and camaraderie, eager to see what new discoveries awaited him on the island tomorrow.

Chapter Text

As the first rays of morning sunlight gently pierced through the curtains, Tom slowly stirred awake, his thoughts still somewhat muddled by the remnants of sleep. Glancing at the clock, a realization washed over him — he had unintentionally slept in. A sense of mild apprehension crept in, knowing that D'Angelo, for reasons Tom couldn't quite fathom, had a rather strict sense of punctuality.

Tom found himself pondering why D'Angelo insisted on such early rising, especially when Tom had yet to discover any significant tasks or responsibilities demanding such a regimented schedule. After all, the island's tranquil remoteness typically afforded a more relaxed pace of life.

Nonetheless, the knowledge of D'Angelo's adherence to timeliness lingered in Tom's mind, creating a subtle unease. He knew that failing to meet D'Angelo's expectations might result in a stern reprimand. It was a conundrum that baffled him — why the rigidity when the days seemed to stretch on with a lack of structured activities?

Despite these musings, Tom proceeded with his morning routine, which was more of a ritualistic habit than a necessity. Teeth brushed, face washed, and dressed in his typical attire, he eyed his art book on the desk, contemplating whether to bring it along. It held a comforting allure, promising creative respite from the otherwise monotonous island life.

With the book tucked under his arm, he left his room, still perplexed by the strict adherence to early hours. As he navigated the facility's corridors, thoughts swirled in his head, wondering if he'd encounter any of the other kids today. The previous day had been marked by unexpected interactions and new friendships, and he was curious to see what this day held.

A lingering worry persisted, a subtle questioning of D'Angelo's insistence on early rising when there seemed to be no immediate need. But Tom was resolute in his determination to make the most of the day, to explore, to learn, and perhaps to uncover more of the island's mysteries.

With each step he took, art book in hand, Tom ventured into the day, ready to face whatever challenges and adventures lay ahead, even if he couldn't quite fathom the reason behind the early morning rigidity.

Tom continued his aimless stroll through the labyrinthine corridors of the facility, his thoughts adrift in a sea of questions about D'Angelo's unyielding early morning regimen. Lost in contemplation, he collided with someone rather abruptly, and he stumbled backward, uttering a quick apology as he fought to regain his balance.

Tom looked at the person he bumped into and saw that it was D’Angelo, his stomach dropped. The abruptness of the encounter left Tom momentarily flustered as he quickly muttered an apology, his eyes darting around in search of an escape.

D'Angelo's eyes bore into Tom, demanding an explanation. "Where were you?" he questioned, his tone a blend of curiosity and suspicion.

Tom, desperately trying to come up with a plausible excuse, stammered out, "I was... uh, researching plants."

D'Angelo's raised eyebrow signaled his doubt, arms crossed defensively. "Researching plants? You?"

Tom, his mind racing to craft a convincing tale, nodded with feigned confidence. "Yeah, I got this foraging book from Aspen, one of the plant scientists."

D'Angelo's skepticism still lingered, his piercing gaze unrelenting. "Aspen gave you a foraging book? Are you sure about that?"

Before Tom could formulate a response, the timely arrival of Aspen intervened, drawing D'Angelo's attention. Aspen strolled over casually, effortlessly dismissing D'Angelo's lingering doubts. "Hey, guys, what's going on?"

D'Angelo turned to Aspen, his skepticism persisting as he sought confirmation. "Tom here says you gave him a foraging book. Is that true?"

Aspen, sporting an easygoing grin, nodded affirmatively. "Absolutely. I thought he might find it interesting. Tom's got a genuine curiosity about plants."

D'Angelo, though reluctantly, conceded, stepping back as his doubts receded. He shot Tom one last assessing look before eventually walking away.

Once D'Angelo was safely out of earshot, Aspen leaned in closer to Tom, a conspiratorial grin forming. "Army brat," he whispered, the term encapsulating a shared understanding.

Tom chuckled softly, appreciating the cover provided by Aspen. "Yeah, thanks for covering for me. That guy is seriously strict."

Aspen nodded knowingly. "No problem, Tom. If you ever need help around here or just want to chat about plants, you know where to find me."

With Aspen's friendly gesture, he ruffled Tom's hair before departing, leaving Tom with a sense of gratitude for the newfound connection he had formed. Tom continued his explorations, wandering through the labyrinthine corridors of the research facility.

His meandering journey eventually led him to the lounge, a place of respite amid the scientific rigors of the facility. Tom settled onto a plush couch, sketchbook in hand, and began to let his imagination take flight. His pencil danced across the paper, capturing the image of a bird soaring through the endless expanse of the sky.

As he sketched, his thoughts drifted to the bird, its wings outstretched in freedom. Tom couldn't help but envy the creature's ability to traverse the open skies. The idea of flying, of being unburdened by the constraints of the ground, held a certain allure.

He continued to etch the bird's form onto the paper, each stroke infused with a yearning for the freedom it represented. Tom's gaze remained fixed on the sketch, lost in a daydream where he too could experience the exhilaration of flight.

In that quiet moment, amidst the sterile walls of the research facility, Tom found solace in his art, and a longing for adventure lingered in the depths of his mind.

Jun appeared seemingly out of thin air, and with a perfunctory "hello," she settled beside Tom on the couch. Her attention initially lay ensnared by her phone screen, a digital world of her own. After a brief spell, she diverted her gaze towards Tom's drawing, her eyes locking onto the sketch of a bird, wings outstretched in graceful flight.

Tom's artwork had always been a cherished outlet for his creativity and emotions. The sketch represented freedom, a concept that often eluded him on this secluded island. As he glanced at it, he couldn't help but feel a sense of yearning to escape the confines of the facility.

Jun, on the other hand, seemed unimpressed. With a hint of sarcasm, she quipped, "Drawing birds, huh? How original." Her tone was laced with mockery, as if belittling the simplicity of Tom's artistic expression.

Those few words, though seemingly innocuous, landed like a heavy blow. Tom's art was a source of solace and self-discovery for him. Her snarky remark made it feel inadequate, trivial even. He was proud of his drawing, but he couldn't muster a defense. Instead, he chose the quieter path, opting to leave the lounge. His feelings of sadness and frustration remained concealed beneath a stoic façade as he made his exit.

Tom tried to ignore the feeling of sadness by having his mischievous side take over as he sneaked into the drone control room. The room was filled with an array of screens, buttons, and control panels, all laid out like a pilot's cockpit. His eyes fell on the drone remote, and he couldn't resist the urge to "borrow" one.

With the remote in hand and a drone under his control, Tom stealthily exited the facility and ventured into the lush forest surrounding it. As he reached a small clearing bathed in dappled sunlight, he felt a rush of excitement. This was his chance to escape the confines of the facility, even if it was just through the eyes of a drone.

With practiced hands, he launched the drone into the open air. The small aircraft hummed to life, its propellers slicing through the atmosphere. Tom guided it carefully, maneuvering it around the clearing, making it dance and soar like a playful bird. His heart raced with exhilaration as he watched the world from this newfound perspective.

He was careful to keep the drone away from the encroaching branches and leaves of the towering trees, aware that a single wrong move could send it spiraling to the ground. But for those moments, he felt like he was flying, his worries and troubles left behind on the forest floor. The drone's camera captured the beauty of the natural world from a perspective he had never seen before, and for a while, Tom was lost in the experience, temporarily free from his concerns.

Tom’s excitement grew with each passing moment. He steered it higher into the sky, watching the landscape beneath him unfold like a breathtaking tapestry. The drone's camera captured the vivid green of the treetops, the winding paths that crisscrossed the forest, and the occasional glimpse of wildlife darting through the underbrush.

As he gained confidence in his piloting skills, Tom guided the drone on a more adventurous journey. It swooped low over a glistening stream, the water sparkling in the sunlight. He marveled at the reflections and ripples, feeling a connection to the natural world he hadn't experienced before.

The drone's nimble movements allowed him to explore areas of the forest that would have been difficult to access on foot. It weaved through the gaps in the trees, offering him views of hidden glades and tranquil ponds. Tom couldn't help but smile as he reveled in the freedom of this remote-controlled exploration.

Time seemed to slip away as he lost himself in the beauty of the forest. He had momentarily forgotten the troubles of the research facility, the encounter with Jun, and the complexities of the other inhabitants. For now, it was just him and the drone, soaring through the skies and savoring the simple joy of flight.

As Tom was engrossed in the exhilarating flight of the drone, a familiar voice startled him from behind. He turned to see his mother, Olivia, standing there with a furious expression.

"What the hell are you doing, Tom?" Olivia barked, her tone sharp and filled with anger. She continued, "You can't just snatch a damn drone like that. Are you trying to get us in trouble?"

Tom tried to explain, his voice shaky, "I was just borrowing it, Mom, not stealing it. I promise I'll bring it back."

However, his mother's temper didn't wane. Her voice remained harsh as she scolded him, "You're always causing problems, Tom! You never think before you act. You're nothing but a clumsy screw-up. I can't believe I have to deal with your crap."

Tom felt a wave of disheartenment wash over him. He had hoped that his little adventure with the drone would be a source of pride or excitement, but instead, it had brought disappointment and a fierce reprimand. He carefully landed the drone and handed it over to his mother.

Defeated, Tom mumbled an apology and turned away, making his way back to the research facility. The weight of his mother's harsh words hung heavily on his shoulders as he left behind the forest, the drone, and the brief moment of freedom he had experienced.

As Tom rushed back to his room, the overwhelming emotions he had kept bottled up began to spill out. Tears welled up in his eyes, and despite his efforts to hold them back, a few escaped, trickling down his cheeks. He quickened his pace, determined to hide his tear-streaked face from anyone who might see him.

Once inside his room, Tom felt the weight of his mother's hurtful words crushing down on him, and he couldn't contain his emotions any longer. His sobs began to rack his body, his breath catching with each one. It was as if a dam had burst, and all the pent-up feelings came flooding out.

Amidst his tears and despair, a gentle knock on his door caught his attention. He heard Aspen's concerned voice calling out to him, having witnessed Tom's hasty retreat.

"Tom? Are you okay?" Aspen's voice was filled with genuine worry, and his eyes were filled with empathy.

After a moment's hesitation, Tom managed to find his voice and agreed, allowing Aspen to enter.

As soon as Aspen stepped into the room and saw Tom's distraught state, he didn't waste a moment. He hurried to Tom's side.

"Hey, what happened?" Aspen asked softly, his concern evident in his tone and the way he looked at Tom.

Tom, still overwhelmed by his emotions, found it difficult to respond. He continued to cry, his tears soaking Aspen's shoulder as he clung to the older boy for support.

Aspen understood the need for comfort and softly inquired “Do you need a hug?”. Tom nodded in response, and Aspen wrapped his arms around him, offering the solace of a warm embrace.

As Tom continued to cry into Aspen's shoulder, his sobs gradually began to subside into occasional sniffles. He felt a pang of guilt for letting his emotions get the best of him and ruining Aspen's shirt.

"Sorry," Tom whispered softly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Aspen, still holding Tom in his comforting embrace, shook his head gently. "It's fine, Tom," he assured him, his voice soothing and understanding.

After a moment of silence, Aspen gently prodded, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Tom took a deep breath, his voice still shaky but more composed now. "I... I took a drone without permission," he admitted, "and I flew it outside. My mom found out, and she... she got really angry."

Aspen listened attentively, his expression reflecting his concern. "It was wrong to take the drone without permission," he acknowledged, "but your mom's reaction, it wasn't right either. She should've handled it differently, talked to you about it instead of... well, you know."

Tom nodded, his voice breaking as he repeated some of the hurtful things his mother had said. "She called me a clumsy screw-up, Aspen. She said I'd never amount to anything."

Aspen's expression turned into one of genuine shock and concern. "I can't believe she'd say something like that to you," he said, appalled by the harshness of Olivia's words.

Tom appreciated Aspen's support and understanding more than he could express. In this moment of vulnerability, he felt a deep connection with his new friend, grateful for someone who cared about his feelings and well-being.

"Thanks, Aspen," Tom said softly, his sniffles finally fading away. "I'm really lucky to have met you here."

Aspen gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Likewise, Tom. We're here for each other, right?"

Tom nodded and let go of Apsen. “Can you stay here for a little while?”

As Tom's tears fully subsided, he looked up at Aspen and hesitated for a moment before quietly asking, "Can you stay here for a while?"

Aspen smiled warmly at Tom's request. "Of course," he replied.

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation still hanging in the air. Eventually, Aspen broke the silence, his voice playful yet brotherly. "So, D'Angelo said you were 'late' because you were reading the foraging book I gave you. You weren't actually reading it, were you?"

Tom chuckled nervously, feeling like he'd been caught red-handed. "Yeah, I was sleeping in. I didn't read anything."

Aspen's playful smile remained as he leaned back. "I'm not sure why D'Angelo is so focused on rules for you to follow when you don't even have a job here," he remarked, shaking his head.

Tom nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I don't get it either. It's like he's watching my every move."

Aspen's expression turned thoughtful. "Maybe he's just a stickler for rules. Some people are like that, you know. Everything has to be by the book for them."

Tom sighed, his frustration with D'Angelo's strictness still fresh in his mind. "I just wish he'd ease up a bit. I mean, it's not like I'm causing any trouble."

Aspen patted Tom on the back reassuringly. "Don't let it bother you too much, Tom. Just be yourself, and eventually, he'll see that you're not a troublemaker."

Tom appreciated Aspen's support and wisdom. In that moment, he felt grateful not only for the friendship he was forming but also for the understanding and empathy he found in his new friend. Together, they faced the challenges of the research facility and the people in it, knowing that they had each other's backs.

Tom and Aspen continued their conversation, delving into various topics as the minutes turned into an hour. It felt like a natural camaraderie was developing between them, a sense of comfort Tom hadn't felt since arriving at the research facility.

They talked about their favorite movies, with Tom discovering Aspen's passion for sci-fi classics and Aspen learning that Tom had a soft spot for adventure films. Tom shared his dreams of traveling the world, and Aspen revealed his fascination with the mysteries of the deep sea.

As they conversed, Aspen suddenly checked his wristwatch and frowned. "I hate to cut this short, Tom, but I have to get back to work. The plants don't take care of themselves, you know," he said with a chuckle.

Tom understood, realizing that the scientists had their responsibilities to tend to. "No problem, Aspen. Thanks for being here and listening."

Aspen stood up and stretched, then smiled warmly at Tom. "Anytime, my friend. And remember, if you ever want to learn more about plants or just chat, you know where to find me."

Tom nodded, appreciating the offer. "I will, Aspen. Thanks again."

With a wave, Aspen headed back to the plant lab, leaving Tom in his room, feeling grateful for the friendship he was building and the sense of slight true happiness slowly taking root in his heart.

Chapter Text

The following day, Tom's exploration of the island continued, guided by a sense of adventure and a quest for new discoveries. He strolled through the lush environs surrounding the research facility, relishing the peaceful ambiance of nature's embrace. With every step, he felt the island's tranquil beauty seep into his soul, and he cherished these moments of solitary communion with the natural world.

As he wandered, his meandering path led him to a tranquil sanctuary—a flat, weathered boulder nestled beneath the protective canopy of a towering spruce tree. Positioned near a rocky ledge that offered a modest view, the boulder invited Tom to take a seat and contemplate the world around him.

Tom complied, lowering himself onto the sun-warmed stone. With his gaze turned upward, he marveled at the kaleidoscope of clouds dancing in the sky. It was an almost
hypnotic sight, and he couldn't help but let his mind drift. The thought of being up there, amidst the ever-changing expanse of the heavens, filled him with a longing for freedom. He imagined himself soaring like a bird, free from earthly constraints, the wind beneath his wings carrying him to uncharted horizons. It was a fleeting daydream, but it left a lingering desire in his heart.

After a contemplative interlude, Tom's attention descended from the lofty clouds to the world below. His curiosity led him to a new pursuit—a scavenger hunt for the wild plants that Aspen had introduced to him. His eyes scanned the ground, a treasure hunter in the heart of nature, searching for hints of vibrant greenery.

Amidst this quest, Tom's keen eyes alighted upon an enigmatic object. He knelt to inspect it, his fingers gingerly tracing its unusual contours. What he had initially taken for a simple rock turned out to be far more intriguing. The object was divided into two distinct hues—a predominantly luminous white intermingled with subtle strokes of obsidian black. It looked similar to a large scale, like the armor of a mystical creature. With each shift of the sunlight, the object seemed to come alive, casting ethereal glimmers that spoke of hidden mysteries yet to be unveiled.

Amidst the tranquil beauty of the forest, Tom's discovery of the peculiar scale-like object gave rise to a sense of intrigue. He carefully pocketed the enigmatic find, his mind abuzz with wonder. The desire for freedom, akin to the birds he'd often sketch, lingered in his thoughts. What would it be like to soar through the skies, unrestricted by the earth below?

However, as time passed, Tom's idle contemplations gave way to restlessness. The forest, while enchanting, had become familiar terrain, and he longed for a fresh adventure. He retraced his steps towards the research facility, the trees whispering their farewells as he departed.

Returning to the laboratory, he roamed its sterile hallways. Curiosity tugged at him, particularly about his mother, Olivia's, whereabouts today. He found himself in the lounge, where a schedule board hung, displaying the day's activities.

While absorbed in this labyrinthine schedule, a soft "Hi" caught Tom off guard, startling him from his thoughts. He turned swiftly to face its source, a girl he had glimpsed but never met properly. Her presence was a surprise in these confined quarters.

Startled, Tom returned her greeting with a slightly nervous smile. "Hello," he replied, adjusting to the unexpected encounter.

The girl, the one he seen at the library, appearing somewhat shy, seemed hesitant to initiate further conversation. However, Tom was genuinely curious and decided to bridge the gap. "I don't think we've had a chance to meet properly. I'm Tom," he offered, extending a hand in greeting.

Her eyes met his briefly before she replied softly, "I'm Alex." Her voice, though quiet, held a hint of friendliness.

Tom, always eager to make new acquaintances, nodded warmly. "Nice to meet you, Alex. What brings you here?"

Alex's gaze momentarily flickered towards the schedule board. "I was just looking for the drone control room," she explained, her tone cautious.

Tom, wanting to be helpful, provided directions to the room. "It's not far from here. Just go down that hallway, and it's the third door on the left."

"Thank you," Alex replied with a small but appreciative smile.

Eventually Alex left the lounge not saying another word. After awhile, and not finding anything on his mother, he decides to leave the lounge. Tom thinks back to Alex her nervousness during their brief encounter puzzled him. Still, he chose to put those musings aside for the moment as he made his way to the plant lab. There, amidst the greenery and thriving flora, he sought the familiar presence of Aspen.

As he entered the lab, he discovered Aspen and Ford engrossed in conversation. Dood and Winstion appeared to be absent, likely occupied with their own tasks. Aspen's eyes lit up with a warm smile as they landed on Tom, and he quickly greeted him.

"Hey, Tom! How's it going?" Aspen asked, genuine concern evident in his voice.

Tom returned the smile and nodded. "I'm good, thanks. Just thought I'd stop by and say hi."

Aspen's enthusiasm was infectious, and he seemed genuinely pleased by Tom's visit. "It's always nice to see you around. Is there anything specific on your mind?"

Tom leaned in slightly, his voice hushed. "I was just curious about something, Aspen. Do you know that girl, Alex, who's here?"

Aspen's expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he considered Tom's question. "Yeah, I've seen her a couple of times. Seems a bit shy or maybe just unsure about things here."

Tom nodded in agreement. "That's the impression I got too. She asked me about the drone control room earlier. Seemed a little nervous."

Aspen tilted his head in curiosity. "Did you find it strange? Her asking about the drone control room, I mean."

Tom shrugged, uncertain. "I guess it was a bit unexpected. But hey, we all have our reasons for being here, right?"

Ford, who had been listening quietly, chimed in with a friendly tone. "Absolutely, Tom. People come here with all sorts of interests and motives. It's what makes this place so unique."

Aspen nodded in agreement. "You're right, Tom. Everyone has their own story."

Feeling content, he decided to change the topic, not wanting to dwell on Alex's mysterious presence for too long. "So, what's new in the world of plants today, guys?"

Aspen's face lit up with enthusiasm once more as he began sharing insights into their latest botanical discoveries, setting the tone for an engaging and educational conversation. Tom found himself immersed in the world of plants and the passionate discussions between Aspen and Ford, relishing the opportunity to learn and connect with his newfound friends in this remarkable place.

Amidst the lush greenery of the plant lab, Aspen's enthusiasm for botany was infectious. As Tom joined him and Ford, the atmosphere felt like a gateway to a world of knowledge and natural wonder.

Aspen's eyes sparkled with excitement as he gestured toward a particular plant. "Hey, Tom, have you ever heard of Ilex verticillata?"

Tom shook his head, intrigued. "No, not really. What is it?"

Aspen's face lit up with the joy of sharing his passion. "Well, Ilex verticillata, commonly known as the winterberry, is a fascinating plant native to eastern North America. It's found in the United States and southeastern Canada, all the way from Newfoundland to Ontario and Minnesota, and it even stretches down to Alabama."

Tom leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "What makes it so interesting?"

Aspen began to explain, his voice carrying the wonder of a naturalist. "You see, the winterberry is a deciduous holly, which means it sheds its leaves during the fall. But what makes it truly special is its bright red berries. They appear during late fall and last well into winter, which is quite unusual for deciduous plants. Most plants lose their leaves and fruit during the cold months, but the winterberry thrives in the chill."

Tom's eyes widened with fascination. "That sounds amazing. Why does it keep its berries during winter?"

Aspen nodded, pleased with Tom's interest. "It's all about adaptation. Birds and other wildlife rely on these berries as a crucial source of food when other resources are scarce in the winter. The bright red color serves as a beacon, attracting hungry creatures to these nutrient-rich fruits."

Ford chimed in with a smile. "It's a classic example of nature's balance and how different species depend on one another."

Tom was captivated by the story of the winterberry and the intricate web of connections within nature. "That's incredible. It's like a little world of its own right here."

Aspen nodded, his eyes filled with appreciation for the natural world. "Exactly, Tom. That's what makes studying plants so exciting. Each species has its unique story to tell, and we're just here to listen and learn."

Aspen grinned and held up the tablet. "Hmm, maybe you’ve heard of the Basketball Plant?

Tom couldn't help but be intrigued by the odd name. "No, I've never heard of it. What's the story behind this one?"

Aspen's eyes lit up witth passion. "Well, the Basketball Plant, also know as Euphorbia obesa, is a remarkable succulent native to South Africa. It's often called the sea urchin plant because of its distinctive ball-shaped body. It used to thrive exclusively in the Great Karoo region of South Africa."

Ford chimed in with a serious tone. "But, sadly, it's become associated with unsustainable harvesting practices. As more people worldwide have started growing these baseball plants, it's led to overharvesting in its natural habitat. Now, it's nearly extinct there."

Tom frowned, upset that the cool plant could possibly go extinct. "That's terrible. What's being done to protect it?"

Aspen nodded, appreciating Tom's concern. "Thankfully, there's a concerted effort to safeguard this unique species. Some botanical gardens and nurseries are cultivating the Basketball Plant to reduce the pressure on wild populations. The goal is to make sure it no longer needs to be harvested from the wild to prevent its extinction."

Tom was visibly moved by the story. "It's both incredible and sad how something so cool can be at risk because of human actions."

Aspen agreed, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he truly cared for plant. "Yes, it's a reminder of our responsibility to protect and conserve the biodiversity of our planet. Each species has a role to play in the delicate balance of nature."

Tom nodded, his respect for nature growing with each of these conversations. "I'm glad there are people working to make things right."

Ford offered a reassuring smile. "Absolutely, Tom. Our hope is that through education and awareness, more people will appreciate the importance of preserving these precious plant species."

Aspen tapped the tablet, revealing images of the Basketball Plant in all its unique glory. "And that, Tom, is why we study plants so we can contribute to their protection. That and a few other reasons, but it’s my main reason!"

As Tom, Aspen, and Ford continued their discussion on plant conservation, a sudden knock at the lab's door drew their attention. Aspen furrowed his brow for a moment but then called out, "Who is it?"

A voice from outside responded, "It's me, Eugene. Jun's brother."

The trio exchanged curious glances before Aspen nodded and said, "Come on in."

The door creaked open, revealing Eugene, Jun's brother. Eugene, a young adult of Chinese descent with brown eyes and short, stylish black hair, had a distinctive presence. He wore a striking ensemble: a red shirt, blue jeans, a black jacket, and black boots. Small black earrings adorned his ears, and underneath his unzipped jacket, a pendant hung from his neck. His demeanor exuded a mix of excitement and curiosity.

Tom greeted him with a friendly smile, recognizing Eugene from their previous encounters. "Hey, Eugene. Long time no see."

Eugene returned the greeting with enthusiasm. "Tom! It's been ages! Nice to see you again!"

Aspen and Ford, having not met Eugene before, extended friendly nods of acknowledgment, intrigued by the newcomer's presence.

Tom gestured to his friends. "This is Aspen and Ford. We've been discussing some fascinating plants and conservation efforts."

Eugene's eyes lit up with interest. "That sounds cool. I've been exploring this place too, trying to find my way around. Jun's been occupied with her research, so I'm on my own."

Aspen, ever the hospitable host, offered Eugene a seat. "Well, you're welcome to join our little botanical chat anytime. It's always great to learn more about the incredible plant life here."

Eugene grinned and took a seat, eager to be part of the conversation. With newfound camaraderie, the small group continued their discussion, weaving together their different experiences and backgrounds into a tapestry of shared knowledge and curiosity.

Aspen, always eager to share his love for plants, pulled up an image of a Hydnora Africana on his tablet. With a hint of excitement, he began to describe the bizarre and aggressive nature of this unique plant.

"This one," Aspen said, "is the Hydnora Africana. It's found in places like Botswana, Namibia, Swaziland, and Ethiopia. Take a look at it, guys."

The image on the tablet showed a plant that, at first glance, resembled a fungus. However, the transformation came when the flower opened. It went from being a nondescript, leafless gray-brown plant to something more akin to an animal than a plant. In fact, it behaved like one, too.

"The parasitic perennial," Aspen continued, "has these warty, worm-shaped outgrowths that serve as traps for beetles and other insects. They can't escape, but the plant uses this mechanism for pollination."

Eugene raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "It sounds like a plant with some serious attitude."

Tom chuckled, recognizing the fascination in Eugene's eyes. "Definitely, and it's got a unique way of attracting pollinators."

Aspen nodded and added, "And here's the kicker—it's got a distinctive smell, too."

Eugene leaned in, clearly amused. "A smelly plant with a big appetite, huh?"

Aspen chuckled. "Yes, but here's the surprising part—it bears edible fruit that's loved by many animals, from jackals and baboons to porcupines, moles, and birds. Humans even eat it! Apparently, when mixed with cream, it makes for a tasty dessert. It also has some medicinal properties."

Tom's curiosity was piqued. "Really? What kind of conditions can it treat?"

Aspen explained, "Things like diarrhea, dysentery, and acne, among others."

Eugene leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Nature's got some incredible surprises, doesn't it?"

The plant lab was alive with chatter as Dood, one of the facility's employees, entered with a friendly smile. His eyes briefly rested on the unfamiliar face of Eugene, Jun's brother, prompting an introduction.

Eugene, with a hint of excitement in his voice, said, "I'm Eugene, Jun's brother."

Dood nodded in acknowledgement, his warm smile extending to the new arrival. He then turned his attention back to Aspen, who was known for his passion for plants. "Hey, Aspen, do you remember when the health and safety meeting is?"

Aspen's typically green-focused mind momentarily shifted gears as he thought of an answer. He seemed a bit distracted as he asked. "What's today's date?"

Dood, raising an amused eyebrow, replied, "It's August 24th."

Aspen blinked, realization washing over him. "You know, I have no idea why I asked for the date. There was literally no reason to ask what day it was. My mind was just...somewhere else I guess." He chuckled and lightly facepalmed.

Dood joined in the chuckles, fully aware of Aspen's preoccupation with plants. "Alright, so when's the meeting?"

After a thoughtful pause, Aspen recalled the date. "It's on August 26th."

As the conversation continued to flow in the lab, Tom listened intently. Then, it struck him—tomorrow was August 25th, his birthday. A tinge of melancholy touched his thoughts, a reminder that his mother often forgot this special day. Yet, he pushed that feeling aside and immersed himself in the animated discussions that filled the plant lab, cherishing the newfound camaraderie with his friends.

As the conversation flowed in the plant lab, Tom's thoughts continued to drift back to the looming date—tomorrow, August 25th, his birthday. His friends noticed the change in his demeanor, his usually cheerful disposition now tinged with a subtle melancholy. Concerned, they couldn't help but ask him what was bothering him.

However, Tom remained tight-lipped, hesitating to voice his worries. It was then that Eugene, ever the perceptive one, connected the dots. He realized that Tom's somber mood might be linked to his impending birthday, a day that often brought disappointment due to his mother's forgetfulness.

With a thoughtful expression, Eugene cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Hey, guys, I just had a thought. Tomorrow is Tom's birthday, and, well, I know from him that it hasn't always been the greatest day for him." He glanced at Tom, his eyes filled with empathy.

Aspen, Dood, and Ford exchanged knowing glances, their concern deepening. They remembered Tom's occasional sadness around this time of year.

Eugene continued, his voice carrying genuine warmth, "So, how about we make it a good one for him this time? We can all be there, and celebrate his birthday together."

Aspen nodded, his passion for plants momentarily eclipsed by his concern for his friend. "Absolutely. We'll get Winston to join us too."

Dood chimed in, "Count me in. We'll make it memorable, Tom."

Ford, usually the quietest of the group, added with a smile, "Yeah, Tom, you won't have to spend your birthday alone this time."

Tom's heart warmed as he looked around at his friends, the weight of his past disappointments gradually lifting. For the first time in years, he began to feel the anticipation of his birthday, knowing that this time, it would be different.

Chapter Text

The morning light gently seeped through Tom's window, casting a warm glow upon his room. He stirred awake, the realization settling in that today was his birthday. While he didn't feel the usual excitement that many people felt on their special day, there was a glimmer of hope in his heart. Maybe, just maybe, this year would be different, thanks to his newfound friends.

Tom swung his legs out of bed and embarked on his morning routine, a series of mundane yet necessary tasks that grounded him in reality. He took his time showering, allowing the warm water to wash away any lingering sleepiness. After, he carefully brushed his teeth, his movements slow and deliberate. Today was a day he wanted to start with care, hoping it would set the tone for the rest of the day.

As he walked up to his desk, he couldn't help but notice the knife he had placed on the side of it. He carefully picked it up, tracing its intricate design with his fingers. It felt reassuring in his hand, and he felt safer with it on him, so he decided to take it with him.

With the knife safely tucked into his pocket and his cherished art book under his arm, he left his room. The hallway outside was quiet, the usual sounds of the facility distant and muffled. Determination filled his steps as he approached the plant lab where he hoped to find Aspen and the others.

Today, he carried not just his belongings but also a sense of anticipation, a small ember of hope flickering within him. Birthdays had always been bittersweet, a reminder of loneliness and unmet expectations. But this year, surrounded by friends who cared, he dared to believe that it could be different. As he walked, he held on to that hope, allowing it to guide him through the day.

The corridor leading to the plant lab seemed unusually quiet today as if the very air held its breath in anticipation. Tom approached the familiar door, feeling a mix of nervousness and hope. With a steady hand, he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

To his surprise, the room was not just occupied by Aspen but also Ford, Dood, Winston, and even Eugene. Their faces lit up with smiles, their eyes sparkling with warmth as they chorused, "Happy Birthday, Tom!"

Tom's cheeks warmed with a blush, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Th- thank you, guys," he managed, his voice touched with genuine emotion.

Aspen, with his characteristic enthusiasm, clapped a hand on Tom's shoulder. "We've got something special planned for you today! But first, breakfast. You can't celebrate your birthday on an empty stomach!"

Ford, ever the practical one, added, "Aspen baked some blueberry muffins. We figured it'd be a great start to your day." He walked around to Tom’s side and then whispered “He isn’t good at making cakes anyways.” Making Tom chuckle.

Dood chimed in, "And I brewed some fresh coffee. Can't have muffins without coffee, right?"

Aspen beamed as he handed Tom a fresh, warm blueberry muffin. "Here you go, Tom. Made them just for you. Happy Birthday!"

Tom accepted the muffin with a grateful smile. Taking a bite, he was pleasantly surprised by the burst of flavor. "Wow, Aspen, these are amazing! You're not just a plant expert; you're a muffin Exper too!"

"I'm glad you like them, Tom. Birthdays are for enjoying all the good things in life, right?" Aspen chuckled, his eyes twinkling with pride.

With a muffin in hand, Tom settled into a chair and looked around at his friends gathered in the plant lab. A warm, friendly atmosphere enveloped the room, making it the perfect time to strike up a conversation, so he decided to share a recent experience. "You know, yesterday, while I was out exploring, I found this strange rock or scale. I'm not really sure what it is, but it sparkles in the sunlight. It's the oddest thing."

Aspen, curious, leaned in. "A strange rock or scale? That sounds intriguing, Tom. Can you describe it in more detail? Maybe we can figure out what it is."

Tom nodded, describing the object.  "It's mostly white with a bit of black, and it looks like a scale you'd find on a reptile. When I move it in the light, it glimmers. I've never seen anything like it before."

Ford, curious and analytical, chimed in. "Interesting. I wonder if it could be a unique mineral or even a biological scale from an undiscovered species, this island hasn’t been fully explored yet. We've come across strange things in our studies.”

Dood added, "Tom, you should bring it here sometime, and we can examine it together. It might lead to a fascinating discovery."

Eugene, always full of energy and ideas, turned to Tom with a grin. "Speaking of finding fun stuff outside, Tom, do you enjoy going on walks outside?"

"Uh. Yeah, I do. It's nice to explore the island and see what's out there." Tom nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

Eugene's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "How about we all go out for a walk together? It could be a fun way to spend the day, and we might find another one of those rock-scale thingy’s!"

Tom hesitated, glancing at Aspen and the others. "But don't Aspen, Dood, Winston, and Ford have work to do in the lab?"

"Today, we're taking the day off to celebrate your birthday, Tom. Exploring the island together sounds like a fantastic way to do that." Aspen quickly chimed in with a reassuring smile.

Tom's eyes widened in surprise. He had never experienced someone going out of their way to celebrate his birthday before. The gesture touched him deeply. "I... I don't know what to say. Thank you, all of you. I've never had friends celebrate my birthday like this."

Dood, with his gentle smile, patted Tom's shoulder. "Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with those who care about you and we all care about so we are going to make this the best birthday for you!"

Winston then spoke up. "Plus, exploring the island could lead to new discoveries, just like your scale. Who knows what we might find?"

Eugene clapped his hands together, his excitement contagious. "It's settled then! Let's go on an adventure and see what surprises this island has in store for us!"

The group then began walking through the lab and eventually reached one of the doors leading outside. Tom pushed it open, and they stepped into the cool late-morning air. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees, and the sun bathed everything in a soft, welcoming light. It was a perfect day for a walk.

They wandered through the lush forest, the earthy scent of the woods and the sweet fragrance of wildflowers filling their senses. Tom found a nice shaded sandy hollow, and they all decided to sit down together.

Eugene looked around, taking in the scenery, and remarked, "Man, this weather is just perfect today. Not too hot, not too cold. We lucked out."

Aspen nodded. "It's moments like these that make you forget about all the stress and back at the lab."

Winston sighed contentedly. "I agree. It's nice to get out and enjoy nature. I haven't had the chance to do this in a long time."

"Nature has its way of rejuvenating the spirit. We often get so caught up in our daily lives that we forget to stop and appreciate the simple things." Dood chimed in.

Tom leaned back and stretched his arms, taking in the warm sunshine. "Yeah, it is."

Eugene glanced around and commented, "You know, I always thought that this forest would be the perfect place to film an adventure movie. All we need now is a treasure map."

Tom chuckled at the thought. "And who would be the daring adventurers?"

Ford raised an eyebrow with a playful grin. "Well, I've always wanted to be the rugged explorer type, like Indiana Jones."

Aspen leaned forward, adding to the fun, "And I could be the knowledgeable sidekick who knows all the plant lore!"

Dood looked at Tom and said, "I could probably be the one that holds the map! The navigator!"

Winston laughed heartily, picturing it all. "I'll be the comic relief. Every adventure movie needs one!"

Eugene, with a twinkle in his eye, declared, "And of course, we'd have a fearless leader. That would be Tom. He'd be the one who keeps our spirits high and leads us through thick and thin."

Tom hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty. "I appreciate the vote of confidence," Tom said, his voice humble, "but I'm not sure if I'm leader material. I mean, I’m not strong, brave, or bold, I'm just... me. I don't know if I could lead anyone."

Aspen looked up at Tom with a slightly worried look. He put a reassuring hand on Tom's shoulder. "Tom, being a leader isn't about being the strongest or the boldest. It's about caring for your friends, making thoughtful decisions, and helping everyone stay together. We believe in you."

Dood nodded in agreement. "We all have our unique strengths. It's not about being someone you're not, but embracing who you are and how you can contribute. We're a team, after all."

Tom wasn’t sure how to reply so he didn’t he just looked up at the vast sky above them and sighed. They all stayed quiet for quite some time, not knowing what to say next. They just sat down next to each other in silence.

Ford, deciding to try to lighten the mood, leaned in and asked, "Have any of you ever wondered what it would be like to fly up into the sky, not in something mechanical like a plane or helicopter?"

Ford's question lingered in the air for a moment before Tom chimed in, "You mean, like on the back of a dragon or something?"

Eugene laughed at the fantastical idea. "That would be pretty cool, wouldn't it? I mean, who hasn't dreamed of soaring through the sky on a mythical creature? Imagine the wind in your hair, the freedom!"

Aspen nodded, his eyes sparkling with imagination. "It's the kind of experience that makes you feel truly alive like anything is possible."

"Well if we ever find a dragon around here, we'll know who to ask for a ride," Winston added.

Ford laughed heartily. "If only they existed eh?"

After a delightful time spent sharing stories and dreaming of dragon rides, the group decided it was time to head back to the lab. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting dappled shadows through the leaves as they made their way back. As they walked, Eugene couldn't help but tease Tom a bit, saying, "So, Tom, any plans for the rest of your birthday? A grand adventure, perhaps?"

Tom chuckled, feeling more at ease with his new friends. "I think I'm up for whatever comes our way. Maybe more exploring, or just spending time together. Honestly, I am not really used to this type of stuff so I really don’t know what to do."

Dood walked up to Toms's side. "Well this is your say, you can do whatever you like. As long as you don't cause any trouble of course!"

"Right," Tom responded.

I made a few redesign so it took a while to get this chapter out. I can't figure out how to put images into ao3 so take my deventart instead. https://www.deviantart.com/redredpanda2

Chapter Text

Tom's footsteps echoed down the corridor as he searched for any sign of his mother. He glanced around the corners, half-expecting to spot her, but the halls remained eerily quiet. He decided to go to her room, maybe she was in there.

When he finally reached her room, he knocked on the door out of courtesy, although he didn't anticipate a response. As the moments passed in silence, he couldn't suppress a sinking feeling, but he refused to give in to it entirely. Perhaps she had left something special in her room, hidden away as a birthday surprise, he knows he shouldn’t go in but he just wants to know. With this thin strand of hope, Tom entered his mother's room.

The space was tidier than he'd expected, giving him the sense that it hadn't been inhabited much lately. Tom moved around the room, shifting a few items on her desk, checking the drawers, and glancing at a collection of framed photographs that adorned the walls.

Just when he was ready to admit defeat, his gaze drifted upward and landed on a box nestled on a shelf in the closet. Curiosity piqued, he reached for the box with care.

Carefully retrieving the box, Tom's fingers traced its edges before he opened it, revealing its mysterious contents. Nestled within was an old, weathered knife, its blade marred by the passage of time. He picked up the knife and gently spun it around in his hand. It was probably older than he was, no it definitely was. It had this weird symbol on it, it was a very faded red dragon. At least it looked like one. He looked back into the box to see a note, he picked it up and began to read it. The note read ‘To Tom, 16th birthday. In this box is a family heirloom passed down for many generations in my family and now that you're 16, I think you will be responsible enough to take care of it for me. Sorry that I was never there for you and I know this won't make it up to you but I hope you can at least not think of me in a negative light. -Love Dad.’ As he read the message, a mixture of emotions welled up inside him — confusion, bitterness, and a sliver of understanding. This was a family heirloom from his father. No, it didn’t make up for not being there for him, but at least it made Tom feel like one of his parents somewhat cared. Even if his father left him to do whatever. Honestly, he probably left so he wouldn’t have to deal with Tom’s mom.

His eyes fell back to the knife, he grappled with conflicting thoughts. Should he take it? He isn’t 16 yet, he just turned 15. Would his mother even notice its absence? His hand trembled for a moment before he made a decision. He carefully placed the note and the knife in his pocket, a tangible connection to his family, albeit a bittersweet one. Closing the box and returning it to its hiding place, he left his mother's room, the weight of the day's discoveries heavy upon him.

—

For some reason, he didn’t go back to his friends instead retraced his steps through the silent corridors of the lab. Each footfall echoed with the weight of his conflicted emotions, his thoughts swirling like a tempest in his mind. He was tired.

As he arrived back at his room, he pushed open the door with a heavy sigh, the familiar surroundings offering little solace. Collapsing onto his bed, he stared blankly at the ceiling, the events of the day replaying in his mind like a broken record.

In the quiet solitude of his room, Tom found himself confronting a gnawing sense of disillusionment. His thoughts wandered down darkened paths, the shadows of doubt creeping ever closer. What if he left this place behind? I mean, it was pretty obvious that his mother didn’t care for him. Maybe he could leave like his dad did?

The idea took root in his mind, growing like a seed planted in fertile soil. He imagined himself wandering through uncharted territories, forging his own path through the untamed wilderness of the island. He envisioned a life of freedom, untethered by the expectations of others, guided only by the whispering winds and the beating of his own heart.

There was a restless energy coursing through him, an urge to escape, to flee the suffocating confines of his reality. He stood up slowly and began to pack his belongings, his hands moving with a sense of urgency. He gathered what he believed would be neccesities such as the knife his grandfather gave him, he would need it to cut things and protect himself. So he put it in a secure location in his blue jean back pack.

He then grabbed his foraging book, and his fishing rod. These would be needed to ensure he had plenty of food. He made sure the book was in a place where the cover nor pages would get bent. He then put the collapsable fishing rod in the front pocket.

Next he selected some clothes with care, each item chosen with the meticulous precision to ensure he had everything for all seasons. Something light for summer, something warmer but not heavy for fall, heavier and thicker clothing for wenter, and finally some casual clothes for spring, that’s what he’d usually wear during that time. He made sure the clothing and coats were packed in a way that left room for other items.

He needed a compass. But where would he get one? He didn’t think many of the scientist would have one. They use technology instead. There has to be some one right? Maybe the one who mapped the whole place. Whats her name again? What ever, she uses technology anyways.

Hmm, maybe Aspen would have one! Yeah, Aspen would 100% have one, he seems like he would be prepared for things like that! He- Tom paused. Aspen. Oh. He. … But, Aspen. Eugine. All of them. He would be leaving them too. He- He can’t do that. That’s selfish, right? He didn’t want to hurt them.

He stopped packing. His hands hovered over the half-filled bag, he needed to unpack it. But, despite changing his mind, a part of him remained tethered to the idea of escape, to the tantalizing allure of the unknown, something new. He found himself unable to commit fully to either course of action.

In the end, he couldn't bring himself to unpack, couldn't shake the nagging sense of possibility that lingered like a specter in the room. Instead, he left his belongings just in case. Was he really about to do that?

He then settled onto his bed, his thoughts a tangled web of uncertainty and indecision. The room seemed to close in around him, suffocating in its silence, as he grappled with the weight of his choices. His's heart grew heavy with guilt.

Maybe he should go see his friends, they would definitely try to cheer him up. But the thought of facing hthem seemed an insurmountable task in that moment. How could he look them in the eye, knowing he had entertained thoughts of abandoning them? Leaving without a word. He felt so selfish and he hated it.

They would probably hate him for it two. If he left they would never want to see him again for being so selfish. He sank deeper into his bed, it felt like the walls closing in around him. He wrestled with his conscience, grappling with the knowledge that he had come dangerously close to betraying the trust of those who had shown him nothing but kindness.

The memory of his friends' smiling faces, their unwavering support, haunted him like a specter in the night. How could he repay their loyalty with such callous disregard? How could he even contemplate leaving them behind?

The weight of his thoughts bore down upon him like an oppressive force, squeezing the breath from his lungs and filling his mind with a suffocating sense of despair. The prospect of leaving his friends behind, of abandoning the bonds they had forged, filled him with a profound sense of dread.

In the recesses of his mind, a chorus of accusatory voices echoed, their words dripping with disdain and contempt. "How could you even consider such a selfish act?" his mind whispered, it’s accusations cutting through the fragile veneer of Tom's resolve like a sharpened blade. "You're nothing but a coward, a betrayer of trust and friendship."

With each passing moment, the walls of his room seemed to close in around himl. How could he face his friends, he wondered, knowing that he had entertained thoughts of abandoning them to because he was upset that his mother didn’t care for him? The very idea filled him with a sickening sense of shame, a gnawing pit of guilt that threatened to consume him whole, he was pathetic.

"They would hate you anyway," his thoughts hissed, its words like poison seeping into the recesses of his fractured psyche. "Better to leave now, before they have the chance to cast you aside like yesterday's refuse."

“No-” He voiced.

He curled in on himself, the weight of his conflicted emotions bore down upon him like an invisible burden, pressing him into the mattress with a force that seemed to crush his very spirit. His limbs felt heavy, leaden with the weight of his unresolved thoughts and feelings, while his chest constricted with the suffocating grip of anxiety and despair.

Each shallow breath he took felt like a struggle, as if the air itself had turned thick and viscous, refusing to fill his lungs with the life-giving oxygen he so desperately craved. His mind swirled with a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts, each one more damning than the last, until he could scarcely tell where reality ended and the twisted tendrils of his own self-doubt began.

He wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them tight against his chest in a feeble attempt to shield himself from the relentless onslaught of his own insecurities. His fingers dug into the fabric of his clothes, seeking solace in the tactile sensation of something tangible amidst the intangible chaos of his inner turmoil.

A bitter taste filled his mouth, the metallic tang of unshed tears mingling with the acrid bitterness of self-recrimination. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to block out the relentless barrage of negative thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him, but they persisted, relentless in their assault on his fragile psyche.

“And your mother, she doesn’t even care about you anyway.” He curled in on himself more as his own mind taunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling of abandonment that clung to him like a shadow, a constant reminder of his own insignificance in her eyes.

He replayed the scene in his mind, the door to his mother's room standing silent and forbidding, a stark testament to the emptiness that lurked within. He had knocked, he had waited, but no answer had come, no sign that she even remembered that today was supposed to be special. And in that moment, the fragile hope that had flickered within him like a dying flame was extinguished, leaving only a cold and desolate void in its wake.

He couldn't understand why she didn't care, why she couldn't spare even a moment of her time for her own son on his birthday. Was he really that insignificant to her, that easily forgotten? The questions swirled around in his mind, twisting and turning like a knife in his heart, each one driving home the painful truth of his abandonment.

He laid there, consumed by the shadows of his own thoughts, everything weighed on him like a suffocating smoke that filled his lungs. The silence of the room echoed with the hollow emptiness of his heart, each beat a poignant reminder of the love he so desperately craved but never received.

In the depths of his despair, he couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't come to see him, especially on his birthday. Had she forgotten, or worse, had she simply chosen to ignore it? And his friends probably thought he was a coward for not going back to him like he said he would.

Without noticing, he surrendered to the exhaustion that weighed upon his weary limbs, his eyelids fluttering closed as sleep beckoned to him like a siren's song. And in the darkness behind his closed eyes, he found a fleeting respite from the relentless torment of his mind, if only for a brief moment.

Chapter Text

Slowly Tom stirred from his sleep feeling drained, both physically and mentally. He layed in bed for a while, staring blankly at the ceiling, the morning light filtering through the curtains casting soft shadows on the walls. His thoughts were a tangled mess, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him, yet he felt strangely detached from it all.

With a heavy sigh, Tom finally pushed himself up from the bed, the sheets crumpling beneath him as he sat on the edge. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, the strands sticking up in disarray. The room around him looked much the same as it always did—tidy enough, the exact same as always, boring.

He glanced at the unmade bed beneath him, he considered fixing it out of habit, but the thought quickly faded as he realized he lacked the motivation to do even that simple task. Instead, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor, the cool surface doing nothing to relive his mind of the fog that clouded it.

Tom stood there for a moment, the silence of the room enveloping him like a heavy blanket. He knew he should get moving, start his morning routine like he always did, but the thought of facing another day filled him with a sense of dread he couldn't shake.

With a reluctant sigh, he shuffled across the room to the small bathroom tucked away in the corner. Opening th door he went over to the sink and splashed some water on his face, the cool liquid refreshing against his skin, but it did little to dispel the fog of lethargy that hung over him like a thick cloud.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his own eyes staring back at him with a mixture of resignation and defeat. He knew he should do something—anything—to shake off this overwhelming sense of emptiness, but the thought of exerting even the smallest amount of effort felt like an impossible task.

He mechanically grabbed a toothbrush from the holder beside the sink, the bristles feeling rough against his gums as he absentmindedly brushed his teeth. He moved the brush in small, circular motions, his mind drifting to places far away from the mundane task at hand.

Once he finished, he rinsed his mouth and the toothbrush under the running water, the sound of the faucet echoing softly in the quiet room. He set the toothbrush back in its place with a sigh, the weight of his exhaustion pressing down on him like a heavy burden.

Next, he reached for his hairbrush, its familiar shape heavy in his hand. He dragged it through his hair, the bristles catching on knots and tangles as he smoothed out the unruly strands. Each stroke was methodical, almost robotic, as if he were going through the motions without truly being present in the moment.

As he finished brushing his hair, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror once more, the person staring back at him seeming like a stranger, someone he could barely recognize. He wondered how he had ended up here, trapped in this endless cycle of monotony and despair, with no clear way out in sight.

He set the hairbrush down on the counter, and looked at the mirror once more his own reflection staring back at him like a silent accusation. He turned away from the mirror, unable to bear the sight of his own emptiness any longer, and left the bathroom.

Tom stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes were drawn to the bag sitting by the door, a silent reminder of the choice he had almost made the day before. His heart felt heavy as he gazed at it, the weight of his conflicted emotions pulling him in opposite directions.

He wanted to cry, to release the pent-up frustration and sadness that had been building inside him for so long. But even that seemed like too much effort, too daunting a task for someone as weary as he was. Instead, he stood there, staring at the bag with a mixture of longing and resignation.

The thought of leaving crossed his mind once more, the temptation to escape from it all almost overwhelming. But then he remembered his friends, the people who had shown him kindness and acceptance when he needed it most. The thought of disappointing them, of losing the only connection he had left in this world, was enough to sway his mind away from it. They would probably hate him for it anyways.

He looked at the bag for a moment longer, the weight of his despair pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He felt the darkness closing in around him, swallowing him whole until there was nothing left but the emptiness inside.

He laughed bitterly, it held no humor, he turned away from the bag, his steps heavy as he shuffled back to his bed. He didn't bother fixing the sheets, didn't bother with anything. What was the point?

Curling up on the bed, he hugged his knees to his chest, feeling the numbness seeping into his bones. He was tired. Tired of pretending everything was okay, tired of fighting against a world that seemed determined to beat him down at every opportunity.

Closing his eyes, he let himself drift, allowing the darkness to swallow him whole. There was no hope, no light at the end of the tunnel. Just an endless abyss stretching out before him, swallowing him whole until there was nothing left but the void.

He layed there, caught in a haze of exhaustion and despair, his body heavy with the weight of his emotions. Sleep was a distant dream, an elusive shadow that danced just beyond his reach. He didn't want to move, didn't want to face another day filled with the same crushing loneliness and disappointment.

Every fiber of his being ached with weariness, his mind clouded with a suffocating fog of sadness and regret. He felt worse than he had yesterday, the pain gnawing at him from the inside out, consuming him whole until there was nothing left but the hollow shell of who he used to be.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes harder in an attempt to shut out the world around him as he surrendered to the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. He didn't know how much longer he could keep going like this, didn't know if he had the strength to face another day filled with the same endless cycle of despair and disappointment. But for now, all he could do was lay there, lost in the abyss of his own thoughts, waiting for the darkness to take him.

He startled at the sound of Aspen's voice from the otherside of his room door, gentle and warm like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. It was a familiar sound, comforting yet tinged with a hint of concern. Brotherly if he dared to hope.

"Hey, Tom. You in there?" Aspen's voice echoed softly, the words floating through the closed door with a gentle urgency. "I just wanted to check on you since you didn't come back yesterday. The safety assembly is today. Maybe you can come to it? It's at 10 A.M."

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. It felt as if all the things he wanted to say were stuck in a cage and drowning. He wanted to talk to Aspen. He felt as if maybe he’d understand. But who was he kidding. Aspen probably wouldn’t care.

Tom's ears pricked up at the sound of Dood's voice, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as his friend spoke.

"Guess he's not in there," Dood murmured, the words heavy with disappointment.

A lump formed in Tom's throat. He wanted to speak. Wanted to move but he couldn’t. He didn't deserve their concern, didn't deserve the kindness they continued to extend to him despite his own shortcomings.

In response to Dood's statement, Winston's voice joined in with a note of uncertainty coloring his words. "Maybe he's somewhere else in the facility?"

Tom's breath caught in his chest, a painful ache blossoming in his heart as the weight of his friends' worry pressed down on him like a leaden blanket. Were they all there? Standing outside his door while waiting for him? Looking for him?

The realization washed over him like a crashing wave, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over onto his cheeks in silent streams. He felt overwhelmed by a profound sense of guilt, the knowledge that he had caused them sadness weighing heavily on his conscience.

He was being selfish, he knew that. Selfish for wallowing in his own misery while his friends stood outside, offering him their unwavering support and understanding. What right did he have to burden them with his own troubles, to drag them down into the depths of his despair?

Tom's ears pricked up at the sound of Dood's voice, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. Dood's tone carried a hint of sadness, a reflection of the concern that echoed in the depths of Tom's own troubled mind.
"Guess he's not in there," Dood murmured, the words heavy with disappointment.
A lump formed in Tom's throat, choking back the words that threatened to spill forth. He didn't deserve their concern, didn't deserve the kindness they continued to extend to him despite his own shortcomings.
As if in response to Dood's statement, Winston's voice joined the mix, a note of uncertainty coloring his words. "Maybe he's somewhere else in the facility?"
Tom's breath caught in his chest, a painful ache blossoming in his heart as the weight of his friends' worry pressed down on him like a leaden blanket. Were they all there, standing outside his door, waiting for him to emerge from the shadows of his own despair?
The realization washed over him like a crashing wave, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over onto his cheeks in silent streams. He felt overwhelmed by a profound sense of guilt, the knowledge that he had caused them sadness weighing heavily on his conscience.
He was being selfish, he knew that. Selfish for wallowing in his own misery while his friends stood outside, offering him their unwavering support and understanding. What right did he have to burden them with his own troubles, to drag them down into the depths of his despair?
The thoughts echoed relentlessly in Tom's mind, each word a dagger that pierced his already battered soul. He berated himself with a viciousness that left him feeling hollow, empty, and utterly devoid of any semblance of self-worth.
Selfish. That's what he was. Selfish to the core, consumed by his own pain and despair while the world moved on around him. He was nothing more than a burden, a weight dragging down those who dared to care for him.
A brat. That's what he'd always been. Spoiled and entitled, expecting the world to bend to his every whim while he wallowed in self-pity and loathing. He deserved nothing but contempt, nothing but scorn from those he had failed time and time again.
He couldn't bear the weight of his own inadequacy any longer, the suffocating sense of failure that clung to him like a second skin. He was a disappointment, a failure, a lost cause destined to amount to nothing.
The darkness closed in around him, swallowing him whole as he surrendered to the relentless onslaught of his own self-loathing. There was no hope, no redemption, no escape from the prison of his own making.

So with a heavy sigh, Tom dragged himself off the bed, his limbs feeling like lead as he forced himself to stand. He wiped away the lingering traces of tears, willing himself to appear composed despite the turmoil raging within.

At the very least he could act like a good kid and go to the assembly. He couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity any longer; he needed to pull himself together and do what was expected of him.

It was 8:53, leaving him just enough time to at least try to compose himself before the assembly began at 10 A.M. He went to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face, hoping to wash away the remnants of his despair, and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.

He couldn't bear the thought of disappointing Aspen and the others more than he already had, not after they had shown him such kindness and concern. Kindness he didn’t deserve, at the very least, he could to try to be a good bot, to show up to the assembly and be obedient, even if it felt like an impossible task.

—

The hour passed in a blur, each minute dragging on as if time itself had slowed to a crawl. Despite his best efforts to compose himself, Tom still felt as though he were wading through a thick fog, his thoughts muddled and his emotions turbulent.

As the appointed time drew near, Tom dragged himself out of his room and began the slow, arduous journey to the auditorium. The weight of his exhaustion seemed to press down upon him with every step, making each movement feel like an uphill battle.

Upon reaching the double doors of the auditorium, Tom was met with a bustling crowd of scientists, their voices blending together into an indistinguishable cacophony. The sight of the numerous stations set up within the room only served to exacerbate his already overwhelming sense of anxiety.

Tom's heart hammered in his chest as he hesitated in the doorway, the clamor of voices assaulting his senses and threatening to overwhelm him. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to shrink into himself, to disappear into the background and escape the scrutiny of those around him.

He felt like a ghost amidst the crowd. He purposly avoided his friends like the plague, his steps purposefully steering clear of their familiar faces. He couldn't bear the thought of them seeing him in his current state, a disappointment weighed down by his own self-loathing.

As the assembly began, Tom found himself swept along with the flow of the crowd, his movements mechanical as he followed the throng of scientists from one station to the next. Each station offered a presentation on safety procedures and protocols for handling the various equipment used in the lab. But to Tom, it all seemed like nothing more than a blur of incomprehensible noise and motion, the words washing over him without leaving any lasting impression.

At one point, a booklet about assessing injuries and administering first aid was thrust into his hand, the action registering in his mind only as a distant echo. He accepted it without so much as a second thought, his mind too clouded by his own inner turmoil to fully process the significance of the gesture.

Station after station, Tom moved mechanically with the crowd, his steps automatic as he followed the flow of bodies from one presentation to the next. Despite his best efforts to remain inconspicuous, he found himself gradually pushed closer to the front of the assembly, the press of bodies leaving him with little choice but to go along with the tide.

With each new station, Tom's mind remained stubbornly distant, the information presented washing over him like waves crashing against a distant shore. He clutched the booklet tightly in his hand, the paper crumpled from his grip, its contents remaining unread as his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

As the assembly progressed, Tom felt an even more overwhelming sense of detachment, the world around him fading into the background as he retreated further into his own thoughts. The noise of the crowd became little more than a dull roar in his ears, his focus consumed by the tumultuous turmoil churning within his own mind.

Everything continued around hin in nothing but a blur, his mind still lost in a fog of numbness. Suddenly, a sharp voice pierced through the haze, pulling him back to the present with a jolt.

"TOM!"

The sound of his mother's voice sent a shiver down his spine, his blood turning to ice as he turned to see her stomping towards him, her anger palpable in every step. The crowd of scientists parted like the Red Sea as she advanced, her fury clearing a path in her wake.

Before he could react, she grabbed his wrist in a painful grip, her fingernails digging into his skin like claws as she dragged him over to the nearest station. With a forceful shove, she pushed him into the table, he struggled to maintain his balance.

"You went into my room and stole that knife!" she accused, her voice laced with venom as she glared down at him. "You greedy bastard couldn't even wait for a chance to steal my stuff!"

Tom's mind reeled, confusion and fear swirling together as he struggled to comprehend her words. "W-what?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper against the onslaught of her rage.

But before he could utter another word, her hand came crashing across his cheek in a sharp slap, the sound echoing through the assembly hall. The scientists nearby remained silent, their eyes averted, unwilling to intervene as the scene unfolded before them.

Tom's breaths came in ragged gasps as panic surged through him, his chest tightening with each shallow inhale. His mother's accusations tore through him like knives, slicing deep into his already fragile sense of self.

"You just wanted the money you'd get from selling it all to yourself, didn't you?" Her words were like poison, dripping with contempt and malice. B-but the knife was for him, a cherished heirloom from his father. Yeah it was ment to be a gift on his 16th birthday but it was for him.

He tried to protest, to defend himself against her accusations, but se griped her hands around his throat, cutting off his words and his air supply as her nails dug into his skin. Panic surged within him as darkness began to engulf his vision, the world shrinking to a narrow tunnel as he fought to draw in a breath.

"It's about time I teach your disrespectful ass a lesson," she snarled, her voice a venomous hiss as she reached for one of the empty demonstration vials. With a swift, brutal motion, she brought it crashing down against his face, the glass shattering on impact, sending shards flying like deadly shrapnel.

Agony exploded through him as the glass tore into his flesh, embedding itself in his skin with searing intensity. A sharp, searing pain lanced through his eye as a fragment of glass lodged itself within, blurring his vision and sending waves of nausea crashing over him. He screamed but he couldn’t hear anything.

He felt her looming over him, her shadow darkening his fading vision as she raised her hand once more, poised to strike again. But before the blow could land, a sudden force shoved her aside, sending her stumbling backwards with a startled cry.

Tom's body collapsed to the ground, his limbs heavy and unresponsive as blood oozed from the jagged wounds that marred his face. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision. He let unconsciousness claimed him, a merciful sparing from the horrors of the world even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

—

Tom’s body suddenly shot up as he snapped back to consciousness, he found himself enveloped in a haze of disorientation and pain. The entire room was bright white, and smelled horribly sterile. It made him feel as if he was suffocating him with their oppressive uniformity. The incessant beeping of machines filled the air, a discordant symphony that echoed through his throbbing head. He felt his breathing begin to whip his head around.

His vision was blurry; he could make out anything. He began to panic as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Something was attached to his arm, a tangle of wires and tubes that seemed to snake their way into his very veins. His heart hammered in his chest as he struggled to piece together what had happened, the events of the previous day nothing more than a jumbled blur of fragmented memories.

He couldn’t see at all through his left eye, a sharp, stabbing pain lancing through it. His face felt as though it was aflame, something was in his skin that made it itch. His neck throbbed with a deep, pulsating ache, each movement sending shards of agony shooting through him. Where was he? Why was this happening?

Out of nowhere his panic-stricken movement was met with resistance, his movements swiftly subdued by a force he couldn't quite comprehend in his disoriented state. He fought against it with every ounce of strength he could muster, terror coursing through his veins like wildfire. Let go let go let go let go. His breathing became even more erratic. Whoever was holding him held him down even more.

He could hear a droning sound pierced through the fog of his panic, something similar to a voice that was faintly familiar yet distorted by the haze of his exhaustion. He strained to make sense of it, his ears ringing with the cacophony of his own racing heartbeat. He tried kicking the person but he missed.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his vision began to clear, the blurry outlines of his surroundings gradually coming into focus. And then, like a revelation, he recognized the face of the person holding him down—Eugene. Oh. He stopped flailing. Eugene. H-he was here? He was still breathing extremely heavily but less panicked.

Eventually Eugene released him, allowing him to sit up slowly. His mind still reeled from the ordeal, but the presence of his friend helped to ground him, if only slightly.

Eugene's voice broke through the lingering haze of Tom's panic, his words a slightly comforting balm amidst the turmoil. "Hey. You're finally awake now. Are you okay?" There was genuine concern in his tone, an underlying worry that betrayed the gravity of the situation.

Honestly? No. Especially because he just held him down while in a panicked state. Tom's gaze remained fixed on some distant point, his expression unreadable. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything though.

Eugene continued speaking, his words a mixture of relief and indignation. "I was really worried about you, man. That was... fucked up man. Your mom, she's..." He trailed off, struggling to find the right words to express his frustration. “A monstrous bitch honestly.)

His mom… Suddenly everything came back to him. His mom. His very own mother nearly killed him. Choking him to death while smashing a glass vile into his face. All for a fucking knife that was his.

He was barely paying attention as Eugine continued. “I couldn’t manage to get past the crowd once I realized what was going on. But Aspen managed. Man, I’ve never seen him move that fast. He practically tackled your mother off of you.. He didn't even hesitate. Just came out of nowhere and shoved her away from you. It was... intense."

Oh. Aspen came to save him. He cared. Eugene cared. Someone cared. Yet the rest of the scientists just stood there. Why?

"Unfortunately Aspen and the others were forced to go back to work. They really wanted to be here for you, Tom. They're worried about you, man." Eugene commented.

Tom remained silent, he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Eugene's voice took on a somber tone as he continued. "I'm sorry about your eye, Tom. It's bandaged up right now and there is no longer glass inside, but... there's a chance you might not see as well out of it anymore. At least that's what the doctor said"

Tom's gaze remained fixed ahead, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. How could he respond to any of this when his own mother had almost taken his life over something as trivial as an old family heirloom? His eye is.. His face…

Eugene quoted for a moment, uncertain of what to say next. He cleared his throat before tentatively reaching out to Tom, his voice gentle. "Hey, listen... I know this is all really messed up, man. But... you gotta know, we're all here for you. We're gonna do everything we can to help you through this. Okay?"

Silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive, as Eugene struggled to find the right words to say. In the end, he settled for a simple gesture, placing a hand on Tom's shoulder in a silent show of solidarity.

Tom flinched slightly at the touch, his body tensing reflexively before he forced himself to relax. He didn't push Eugene away, though, allowing the contact to ground him in the reality of the present moment.

“Hey how about I go tell the other that you are awake? I bet they will be excited to know and will come visit you as soon as they can!” Eugene suggested as he let go of Tom and began to walk towards the door, he glanced back at him with a sympathetic expression. "I'll be right back, okay? Just hang in there," he said softly before turning and exiting the room.
Tom watched him go, feeling a sense of emptiness settle over him in Eugene's absence. He couldn’t get what happened out of his mind. He didn’t feel safe. H-he needed to leave, to get as far away from this place as possible.
With trembling hands, Tom reached out and began to detach the various wires and monitors connected to his body. The sound of the heart monitor blaring filled the room, a cacophony of noise that only heightened his sense of panic.
Ignoring the chaos around him, Tom focused on the task at hand, ripping the last of the equipment from his skin with a grim determination. He winced as pain shot through his body, but he pushed through it, his mind set on one thing: escape.
Finally free from the confines of the hospital bed, Tom staggered to his feet, his legs weak and unsteady beneath him. Every step sent waves of dizziness crashing over him, but he forced himself to keep moving, driven by a desperate need to get away.
He stumbled out of the room and into the corridor, the harsh fluorescent lights overhead blurring together into a dizzying haze. Each step felt like an eternity as he navigated the labyrinthine hallways of the facility, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Despite his exhaustion, Tom pushed himself forward, driven by a single-minded determination to escape the clutches of this place. He couldn't stay here any longer, couldn't bear the thought of being trapped within these hellscape for any longer.

His steps faltered as he kept going, a slight bit of uncertainty clouding his mind. He glanced left and right, trying to remember which way led to his room; his mind was foggy from exhaustion. The sterile white walls seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with their oppressive presence.

Pushing aside his mounting anxiety, Tom forced himself to choose a direction and continued onward. Each step felt like a battle against his own exhaustion, his body protesting with every movement.

His thoughts raced with the weight of his decision. He knew he was being selfish, abandoning his friends like this. But he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of despair that had consumed him. He needed to get out.

Guilt gnawed at his insides, a constant reminder of the bonds he was breaking by leaving. But he couldn't stay, couldn't bear the thought of remaining trapped in this place any longer.

With a heavy heart, he pressed on, his determination to escape overpowering his guilt. He needed to get to his room, to gather his belongings and leave this nightmare behind him.

Each passing moment brought him closer to his goal, his resolve hardening with every step. He knew he couldn't stay, couldn't continue to endure the pain and suffering that awaited him here.

As he reached the door to his room, Tom paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the handle. He was trembling as he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart pounding in his chest. It was time to leave, to escape the confines of his own personal hell. He walked in and grabbed his bag with trembling hands and threw it over his shoulder.

But as he turned to leave, something caught his eye—a small booklet lying on his bed, its pages slightly crumpled from where it had been placed. His heart lurched as he recognized it as the booklet he had absentmindedly grabbed during the safety assembly.

Curiosity mingled with confusion as he approached the bed, his gaze fixed on the booklet. It seemed out of place amidst the chaos of his room, a small beacon of order in the midst of his turmoil.

As he picked it up, a note fluttered to the ground, its edges worn from where it had been folded. Tom stooped to retrieve it, his fingers trembling as he unfolded the paper.

It was a note from Aspen saying that he left this here because he thought Tom might want it back. He put the book and note in his bag. Might come in handy.

He turned and began to walk out of his room. He began to pick up the pace. He couldn’t quite run right as he was still feituged and slightly dizzy but he kept going anyways. He was going to get out of here no mater what.

Each corridor stretched endlessly before him, a labyrinth of sterile white walls and echoing footsteps. Tom's breath came in ragged gasps as he navigated the maze-like corridors, his heart pounding in his chest with each hurried step.

The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows on the walls, their buzzing hum echoing in his ears as he raced forward. Each turn seemed to lead him deeper into the bowels of the facility, the endless corridors stretching out before him like a never-ending nightmare.

His head spun with dizziness, the fatigue of his ordeal weighing heavily on his shoulders as he stumbled forward. Each corridor looked the same, a maze of identical doorways and sterile hallways that seemed to mock his efforts to escape.

But still, he pressed on, driven by a desperate need to flee, to escape the suffocating confines of the lab and the memories that haunted its sterile halls. With each step, his resolve hardened, a fierce determination propelling him forward despite the obstacles in his path.

The sound of his own footsteps echoed loudly in his ears, the rhythm of his hurried pace matching the frantic beat of his heart. He felt as if he were running from something unseen, a specter of his own making that pursued him relentlessly through the twisting corridors.

Soon enough he reached the door and burst through it. Once he did he was greeted by the cool embrace of the evening air, the chill seeping into his bones after the stifling confines of the lab. The sky was awash with hues of pink and orange as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape.

He stumbled forward, his legs shaky with exhaustion and adrenaline. He accidentally hit his face on a branch as he ran causing one of his stitches to come undone. Blood began to seep down his face but he didn’t care.

The world around him seemed to blur as he pressed on, his mind racing with a jumble of thoughts and emotions. He wasn't sure where he was going or what lay ahead, but he knew that he couldn't stay here any longer.

Eventually, he found a secluded spot to rest, a small clearing nestled among the trees where he could catch his breath and gather his thoughts. He sank to the ground, his back against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened. His fingers traced the stitches on his face, the rough texture a painful reminder of the violence that had been inflicted upon him.

Tears began to streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the blood and sweat that still clung to his skin. He felt a deep, gnawing ache in his chest, a sense of betrayal and hurt that cut to the core of his being. Why? Why did this happen to him?

How could his own mother do something like that to him? The thought echoed in his mind, a relentless refrain that threatened to consume him. He had always known that their relationship was strained, but he never imagined that she could be capable of such cruelty. To do something like this to her own son!

He pressed a hand to his bandaged eye, the sharp pain making him want to scream and let it all out. He felt broken, shattered into a million jagged pieces that he didn't know how to put back together.

His sobs echoed through the stillness of the night, a raw and primal sound that reverberated through the trees. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of anguish, unable to find solid ground amidst the swirling tide of his emotions.

His cries were raw and guttural, tearing from him with a force that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him. Each sob was a knife twisting in his chest, a relentless onslaught of pain that threatened to consume him whole.

He doubled over, his body racked with the force of his anguish, his hands clutching at his clothes as if seeking an anchor in the storm of his emotions. His breath came in ragged gasps, the air burning in his lungs as he struggled to fill them.

Tears streamed down his face, leaving salty trails in their wake as they mingled with the blood that still seeped from the now open wound on his cheek. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of his own despair, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

Every shred of hope that his mother still loved him was shattered, leaving nothing but emptiness in its wake. He felt betrayed, abandoned, as if the ground had been ripped out from beneath him and he was left to fall into the endless abyss of his own despair.

He cried until he had no tears left to shed, until his throat was raw and his chest burned with the effort of his sobs. And even then, the pain remained, a dull ache that seemed to pulse with every beat of his broken heart.

He didn't know how long he sat there, lost in his own misery, but eventually the tears began to subside, leaving him hollow and drained. He felt numb, disconnected from the world around him, as if he were nothing more than a ghost haunting the empty forest.

He couldn’t stay here for much longer without risking someone seeing him. So he forced himself to stand, his legs trembling beneath him. Each step felt like an insurmountable challenge, but he pushed forward, driven by a desperate need to get away, to put as much distance between himself and the place that had brought him so much pain. The cold air stung his raw face, but he barely registered the discomfort. Tears still streamed down his cheeks, but his sobs had quieted to choked gasps. His mind was a fog of exhaustion and heartache.

He stumbled as he walked, his feet dragging through the underbrush. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, begging for rest, but he couldn't afford to stop. Not yet. The fear of being found, of being dragged back, kept him moving. He had to get away, to find some semblance of safety, even if only for a little while.

The forest around him seemed to close in, the trees casting long shadows in the dim light of dusk. The once familiar landscape now felt alien and hostile, each rustling leaf and snapping twig a potential threat. His breath came in ragged, uneven bursts, each inhale feeling like it could be his last. He had no destination in mind, no plan beyond getting as far away as possible. His thoughts were a chaotic swirl of fear and despair, drowning out any semblance of rational thinking.

He tripped over a root, falling to his knees with a grunt of pain. For a moment, he simply lay there, the cold ground beneath ever so slightly soothing. He couldn't muster the energy to cry anymore; the tears had dried up, leaving only a hollow ache in their wake. With a groan, he pushed himself back up, his body protesting the movement.

As he continued to walk, his vision blurred from fatigue. He felt lightheaded, his steps growing increasingly unsteady. The weight of his bag seemed to grow with each passing moment, pulling him down, but he refused to let go of it. It was the only thing he had left, the only tangible connection to a life that now felt so distant and unreal.

The forest grew darker, the shadows lengthening as the last light of day faded. Tom's movements became more mechanical, driven by sheer willpower rather than any real sense of purpose. His mind was a haze of exhaustion and lingering terror, every step a monumental effort. He couldn't afford to think about what had happened, not now. He needed to keep moving, to put one foot in front of the other, to escape.

The sounds of the forest seemed amplified in the silence of his mind, each rustle and crackle a reminder of his isolation. He was alone, more alone than he had ever been. The thought was both terrifying and oddly comforting. At least out here, there was no one to hurt him, no one to betray him.

His legs partially gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, almost too exhausted to continue. He just wanted to lay there, staring up at the darkening sky, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The stars began to appear, tiny points of light in the vast expanse of darkness. They seemed so far away, so unreachable, just like the sense of safety he longed for.

But he got up, he was going to make sure no one found him. So he continued he could hardly do so but he didn’t want to go back. Soon the trees soon begin to thin out, revealing the edges of a steep-walled canyon. It… was breathtaking, a slice of nature's raw beauty carved into the earth. The walls of the canyon were lined with layers of rock, varying shades of red and brown, creating a mesmerizing pattern. Small patches of greenery clung to the crevices, adding a splash of life to the rugged landscape.

For a moment, Tom was distracted from his pain and exhaustion by the sight before him. For a moment, he felt calm. He wondered if he could get down to the bottom, to find some solace in the isolated beauty of the canyon. Determined, he began searching for a way to descend. His eyes scanned the cliff face for any sign of a path or a series of footholds that could lead him down safely.

After a few minutes, he spotted a narrow ledge that seemed to wind its way down the canyon wall. It wasn't much, but it was something. He approached it cautiously, testing the stability of the rocks with each step. The descent was slow and precarious, each step requiring careful placement and balance. His heart pounded in his chest, both from exertion and fear of falling.

Tom's hands and feet moved tentatively from one rock to another. He concentrated intensely, making sure each step was secure. The ledge was narrow, barely wide enough for his feet, and crumbled slightly under his weight. His breathing was ragged, his palms sweaty, making it harder to maintain a grip.

He was about halfway down when disaster struck. As he placed his weight on a seemingly solid rock, it suddenly gave way beneath him. Tom's heart lurched as he felt himself plummet. Instinctively, he screamed, the sound echoing off the canyon walls. He flailed his arms, desperately trying to grab onto anything that might slow his fall.

His hand caught a small, scraggly branch jutting out from the cliff face. For a brief moment, it seemed to hold his weight, but then it snapped, sending him tumbling again. The branch had slowed his descent slightly, but the ground was still rushing up to meet him.

In a last-ditch effort to protect himself, Tom threw his arms out in front of him, bracing for impact. The ground hit him hard, a shock of pain radiating through his body. He felt his left arm crumple beneath him, the bone snapping with a sickening, “CRACK!”