Chapter 1558 He Messed Things Up Again?
"Zaid, don't be angry," Atlas said, uncertain what he'd done wrong.
He'd made Isolde happy, and shouldn't that make Zaid happy too? Had he messed up again?
Panic gripped him suddenly—that familiar dread of being thrown back into that cold machine.
"Zaid..." he tried again, his voice barely audible.
The sound of Atlas's voice only irritated Zaid further. He grabbed Atlas's wrist, his words carrying an unusual edge of anger. He never lost his temper with Atlas, but today was different. "You slept with her? What were you thinking?"
"I... I wanted you to be happy," Atlas replied, his voice small.
"You thought that would make me happy?" Zaid demanded.
Atlas's eyes were pools of confusion, silently asking over and over, "Aren't you happy?"
Embarrassment washed over Zaid. His carefully maintained facade of patience was crumbling.
After years in Silver Bay City, witnessing countless betrayals and the darkest sides of humanity, he now found himself unable to face this one pure, honest heart.
He released Atlas's hand and stood in silence, searching for words that wouldn't come. Finally, he turned to retreat to his room. Atlas followed cautiously behind, terrified of upsetting him further.
Back in the bedroom, Zaid stopped by a cabinet filled with Atlas's collection of leaves—each one meticulously cleaned and preserved. These specimens would last for years.
Zaid closed his eyes briefly, gathering himself. After a full minute, he spoke, "Don't sleep with her again."
"But—" Atlas began.
"No buts," Zaid cut him off firmly.
Atlas finally stopped arguing. Instead, he pulled a breakfast cookie from his pocket, crumbling it into pieces before eating it bit by bit.
Watching him, Zaid felt a surge of exasperation. After everything that had happened—this major breach of trust—Atlas seemed completely unfazed, as if he had no concept of what it meant to have sex with a fifty-year-old woman.
Zaid's chest tightened with emotion, but all that escaped was a heavy sigh. "From now on, just do things that make you happy."
Confusion flickered across Atlas's face before he responded without hesitation: "When yoou're happy, I'm happy."
Zaid was rendered speechless.
Raymond had been stuck here for two full days. The staff were all bottom-tier workers, their daily routine consisting of dragging people—either screaming, living subjects or lifeless corpses.
They all wore identical white isolation suits and protective goggles.
Raymond's patience was wearing thin. Lawrence and Clifton were clearly not in this sector.
The research facility was vast—this area was merely a tiny corner, according to conversations he'd overheard. The real center of operations lay deeper inside, in areas where people like him weren't permitted.
That afternoon, three men arrived to select a few people for transfer to another sector. The refugees brought here typically underwent basic research, and those who passed physical evaluations were moved elsewhere.
Raymond saw his chance. He quickly volunteered to help move people, and soon found himself following the men into a different area.
The layout of this new sector was similar, with low-level staff wearing nearly identical uniforms. He overheard the man in front of him giving instructions.
"Move quickly. These subjects are for Dr. Griffin," the man ordered.
"Is Dr. Griffin coming out of isolation? What about that weapon she created? It's still unaccounted for," someone replied.
"What is that madwoman planning now?"
"Shut up! Dr. Griffin is not someone for the likes of you to gossip about."
'Dr. Griffin? Who is that?' Raymond wondered.
Just then, the man received a call. Before answering, he glanced at Raymond. "Why are you still here? Get back to your sector."
Raymond pretended not to hear as the man hurriedly answered his phone.
"Dr. Griffin, you're coming personally? Yes, of course. I'll open the door right away."
The man forgot about Raymond and rushed to a massive door. It slowly opened, revealing an elegant woman who stepped through.
This was Dr. Calla Griffin, the research facility's leading scientist.
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