26

Elsa blinked her eyes open, disoriented, and turned her head to face him. He was there, sitting beside her, staring blankly as if lost in thought. For a few moments, Elsa felt nothing, just an empty, indifferent void. But soon enough, a sharp pain welled up inside her, and tears began to trickle down her face, soaking into the pillow beneath her. His gaze stayed fixed on her, unwavering, yet he made no move to comfort her, no gesture of affection. It was as if he had become a stranger, a hollow, stone-hearted figure who no longer recognized her pain.

With trembling fingers, Elsa wiped her tears away and summoned whatever courage remained within her. She sat up slowly, leaning against the pillow for support, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. She whispered his name, calling out to him with a voice that barely managed to escape her lips.

As always, he responded—approaching her with the same calm, deliberate steps. Elsa’s eyes fell to his chest, where her hand found the steady beat of his heart. She pressed her palm against it, waiting—hoping—for something. But there was no change. No stir of emotion, no sign that anything had shifted between them.

The silence stretched on, and with each passing second, Elsa’s hopes crumbled into nothingness. Frustration overtook her, and in a desperate act, she shoved him away with all her strength, her voice rising in a scream. Yet, he remained unmoved, standing still as stone, his cold eyes never leaving her face.

Suddenly, she felt the wetness of fresh tears on her cheeks. The force of the dream shattered as her eyes snapped open. She was no longer trapped in that strange nightmare. But the tears had followed her into reality. Elsa wiped her face and glanced around, her heart still pounding in her chest. There was no sign of Joseph beside her, just an eerie quiet.

With a shaky breath, she whispered to herself, "Dear God, please let the rest of the dream not be true." She sat up cautiously, taking in her surroundings.

"Where am I?" she muttered, glancing around the unfamiliar room. It felt like a hospital but didn't look like one—there was no antiseptic smell, no rows of beds, no bustling nurses, or white walls. Even the ceiling seemed impossibly high. Then it hit her.

"This is Joseph’s planet." She recognized the distinct design, the alien architecture she had seen so many times before. He must have turned his room into some kind of medical space.

She was still piecing it together when Joseph entered the room. This time, he didn’t disappear behind the door as soon as he arrived, as he often did.

Elsa looked away, angry, though deep down her heart ached to see him. She wanted to hold onto her anger, but it was difficult.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he rushed toward her, concern flickering across his face.

"I need to go home," she replied coldly, refusing to answer his question.

"Anna, wait—"

"Don't call me Anna!" Elsa snapped, cutting him off sharply. The sound of his voice saying her name brought back too many memories, too much hurt. He laughed softly, as if remembering something from long ago, and she glanced at him in surprise.

"Is this real?" she thought to herself. He didn’t seem like the cold figure from her dream.

Her gaze drifted to his chest, searching for a hint of warmth, some proof that he was still the man she once knew. But as Joseph noticed where her eyes lingered, his smile faded.

"You... Knox said you were going to give your heart to him, Joseph." Her voice wavered, her throat tightening with emotion. "You didn’t even bother to tell me? You kept this from me, and now... this? This whole time? You—" She couldn’t finish the sentence. The betrayal sat heavy in her chest. She wanted answers, but all Joseph did was stare at her in silence.

"Did you?" she pressed again, her voice breaking.

"Knox didn’t have much time," he finally said. "We had to operate as soon as we arrived here."

"Seriously, Joseph? You went through with it?" Her voice cracked, rising in anger. "Fuck you and Knox!" Elsa pushed herself off the bed, fury coursing through her veins. Her head swam for a moment, but she steadied herself, determined not to falter.

"Don’t ever come near me again. Either of you." She stormed toward the door.

"You can’t leave," Joseph called after her, grabbing her arm to stop her. "You know it’s not safe."

"I don’t care. I’m leaving. I need to go home," Elsa shot back, her voice full of defiance.

For a brief moment, Joseph’s expression softened, a trace of the old tenderness flashing across his features. "You’re acting like the Anna I used to know," he said quietly. "I had to do what I did, just like before."

His grip remained firm but gentle as he guided her back to the bed, laying her down with surprising care. "You’ll stay here, Elsa."

"I won’t!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over. "You liar... stone-hearted alien!" She thrashed in the bed, trying to break free, but it was as if the bed itself held her captive.

Joseph turned and left Elsa alone, breathing heavily, exhaustion sinking in. She let her head fall back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything pressed down on her. Her body gave up, and the fight left her, at least for now.