25

Joseph leaned back in his chair, his fingers twitching as though they were controlling an invisible machine. The room was filled with a quiet intensity. Junior and senior scientists alike sat silently, their eyes glued to the ever-changing images on the large screen in front of them. Joseph’s mind was linked directly to the screen, and every thought, every fleeting idea, played out in a symphony of light and motion. It was mesmerizing.

As the images flickered faster and faster, Joseph's hand froze mid-wave. Something was wrong. He could feel it deep within his brain—a subtle, almost imperceptible pulse, as if the neurons in his mind were sending out a distress signal. His eyes darted to the screen, and there it was: a flash of light, the shape of Earth forming before his eyes, followed by a scene that made his breath catch.

Blood. The street was splattered with it, and lying in the center of it all was Elsa. His Elsa. His Anna.

The chair creaked as Joseph shot up, his voice barely above a whisper. "Elsa…"

The aliens in the room exchanged glances. They knew something serious had happened, though none dared question Joseph. He stood, a tense figure, commanding attention with the sheer force of his presence. Without another word, he hurried out of the room, heading for the control center.

He reached the control room and activated a machine—a tall, glass tube large enough to fit an alien or two humans at once. Joseph stepped inside, taking a deep breath. This machine, meant for emergencies, would transport him to any location in an instant. As the door closed, the world around him dissolved into a blur, and within seconds, he was gone.

The next thing Joseph knew, he was standing amidst trees near the road where Elsa lay. It was dark, the machine hidden perfectly in the shadows. He rushed forward, his eyes scanning for her.

And there she was. Elsa.

"Elsa!" Joseph dropped to his knees beside her, his heart pounding. His chest tightened as he saw the gash on her side, the blood pooling around her. She was still breathing, but barely. Without wasting time, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the machine. They needed to get back. Now.

Back on his planet, the hospital-like atmosphere buzzed with activity. The aliens worked quickly, placing Elsa on the operating table, their movements a blur of precision and care. Joseph hovered nearby, watching every move they made. Healing her wound wasn’t the hard part—alien technology could handle such injuries with ease. What troubled Joseph was something else entirely.

He paced the room, hands clenched at his sides. How had he lost control of her mind?

Every action Elsa took, every move she made, had always been under his influence, tethered to his thoughts. He had kept her safe that way, ensuring nothing could harm her. But something had gone terribly wrong. For the first time in years, she had acted independently, free from his mental grip.

Joseph cursed under his breath. He had been careless, distracted. He hadn’t taken a break during the twelve-hour meeting. His focus had faltered, and he hadn’t noticed Elsa’s sudden disconnection.

He moved closer to her, standing at her bedside. Her chest rose and fell gently, but her skin was pale. Joseph reached out, placing two fingers gently on her forehead. He closed his eyes, concentrating hard. He tried to replay the last few hours, searching for anything out of the ordinary.

What had happened?

Images flickered in his mind. The last time he’d seen her conscious, she had been smiling, standing in her lawn, an envelope in hand. And then…nothing. No clues. No warning. Just this.

Joseph’s eyes snapped open, frustration burning in his chest. "Knox," he muttered under his breath.

Knox. Joseph had trusted him, had shared everything he knew with him, even gone so far as to make Knox look like him. Knox had his appearance, his abilities, even the connection to the same alien technology. But he had made one grave mistake.

Storming out of the room, Joseph’s thoughts were a whirlwind of fury. He knew exactly where Knox would be.

Knox was lying on his high bed, casually flipping through a book when Joseph entered the room. He didn't look up at first, but the tension in the air was impossible to ignore.

"You seem upset," Knox said finally, glancing up with a smirk.

Joseph's voice was cold. "Why did you tell her?"

Knox raised an eyebrow. "Tell her what?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Knox. You told her how to break free from my control." Joseph’s voice grew louder, his fists clenched at his sides.

Knox sat up, his expression turning serious. "I couldn't keep lying to her, Joseph. It wasn’t right."

"It wasn’t right?!" Joseph’s eyes burned with rage. "I told you this was a secret! Her life was in danger because of you!"

Knox sighed, his calm demeanor faltering. "I did what I thought was best. You can’t control her forever."

Before Knox could say another word, he was lifted off the bed, hanging mid-air. His body twisted in fear as Joseph’s power took hold.

"Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?!" Joseph shouted, his voice shaking with fury. "She nearly died because of your self-righteous decision!"

Knox gasped for air, fear clouding his eyes. "Joseph—please—"

"You’ll hang there until she wakes up," Joseph growled, his hand raised as if holding an invisible chain. With a flick of his wrist, Knox was slammed against the ceiling, suspended in place.

"I could’ve lost her!" Joseph’s voice was thick with emotion. "You don’t understand what’s at stake."

Knox groaned in pain, barely able to move. "I… didn’t think…"

"You didn’t think at all." Joseph turned, storming out of the room, leaving Knox hanging helplessly. He could hear Knox's faint voice as he closed the door behind him.

"Why did they have to make the ceiling so high?" Knox muttered bitterly, staring down at the ground far below him.

Alone in the hallway, Joseph stopped, leaning against the wall for a moment. His anger simmered down, replaced by a deep, gnawing fear. Elsa had slipped from his control once.