The car ride was long. Boring. Quiet. Too quiet. Nobody was talking. What was there to talk about? The robot? I didn't want to talk about that smoking heap of scrap. I didn't care about it. It was a failure anyway. Them? .... No. They were nobodies. Just three people. People I used to get along with. Rather, just roommates I lived for a while. Paul? Patryk? If I'm being honest, it's been a long time since I saw them. Old friends, somebody could say. Would I? Not to them. Old acquaintances. "You alright back there?" Paul asked, keeping his hands on the wheel. Ah. Right. That's another thing someone could talk about after something. I guess my mind was thinking about something else. Someone else. Someone.... Someone like- "Tord." Paul said, raising his voice slightly, looking at the review mirror. I lift my head from the window, staring at him. His expression instantly relaxes, but then goes unreadable. I continue staring at him. He said my name. What does he want? "Just checking." He hummed, looking back at the road. Like that made sense of anything. I roll my good eye, pressing my head back against the window. Cold window. Bumpy road. Dark outside. I wonder what they're doing... ... ...... ......... "TORD?" ......... ... .. Hold him down, they yelled. I was already half out of it, if I'm being honest. Until that pain went up my right arm. Then nothing. Just static. "Tord?" "...Is he good?" "Yeah, he's fine." I didn't say anything. Not yet. Just exhausted. Dizzy. Did what I think happen...happened? I'm staring in a mirror. Robot arm. Bandages. God... how bad was that stupid robot explosion? "Tord." Paul knocked on the door. I turn my head. It was opened already. I don't know why he knocked. I stay quiet though. I don't understand that stare. That tone of voice. It's too calm. Suspicious. "What do you want?" I demand. ... oh.. oh....oh no... no... no no no... .......................................................... "See, I don't remember much after that." I explain, putting the pencil down, grabbing the paper and sliding it into a drawer, staring at Patryk. He stares back at me, clutching his suit tightly, before standing up. "...I see. And you didn't talk to Paul about this, /why/, Red Leader?" I sat there, leaning back in the chair. "I... don't know." I mutter, running a hand through my hair, before looking at the ground. Everything's been feeling so fuzzy lately. I don't know why I don't remember the entire story. It's only been 9 months. ...Or has it been longer? Years? A decade? Shorter? Days? Weeks? Hours? I sigh quietly, leaning back in my chair. I hear Patryk leave. I don't stop him or ask questions in why he left in a hurry. I just close my eyes. And fell asleep. ........
