The following day, at the Founding Farmers DC restaurant, situated a few distance from the White House, where Stefan and Tina had previously agreed to meet, Tina arrived and entered the establishment.
She scanned the crowded room, her eyes searching for Stefan, and she spotted him sitting in a corner, adjacent to the window. She hastened towards him and grasped the chair opposite him.
On the table before Stefan was a cup containing a pale brown liquid that Tina assumed was coffee.
"Let us dispense with the formalities and proceed directly to the matter at hand," she said. "Where is the box?"
Stefan's expression was one of utter bewilderment as he glanced at his wristwatch. "Wait... When did I instruct you to meet me here?" he asked..
"You specified 10 a.m.," Tina replied. "What is wrong with arriving early?"
Stefan chuckled. "It is 8:12 a.m., Tina. You should have arrived at midnight, or perhaps taken up residence here."
Tina scoffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Says someone who arrived before me," she shot back.
"I arrived merely two minutes ago. I had gone to Mike's residence to return his bag, which you observed me carrying yesterday."
"So Mike and Rachael are aware of the box's existence?"
Stefan's nervousness became apparent as he stammered, "Wh-why...why did you say that?"
Tina's gaze locked onto him, her eyes demanding an answer.
"Of course not! They knew nothing about it!" Stefan exclaimed. "I discovered the box myself, and–"
"Then where is the box?"
"So threatening a tone from someone who should be begging for it." Stefan folded his arms, what he assumed should be a defensive gesture. "As you stated earlier, let us dispense with the formalities and proceed directly to the matter at hand. I shall relinquish the box, but on one condition."
"I knew it; everything inevitably leads to a condition, doesn't it? Tell me what you want, and I shall comply with your request."
"Tell me everything you know about the box and what it contains."
"What!?"
"Then, and only then, shall I hand over the box to you."
"Are you insane? Why would I divulge that information?" Tina exclaimed, her countenance reflecting her dismay and disapproval.
"That's my condition, Tina. I ask nothing more," Stefan replied, gesturing for her to make a choice.
Tina bowed her head, sighing reluctantly, and she began to recount a portion of the story her father had told her.
"An alien allegedly gave the box to my forefather, tasking him with protecting it from one generation to the next..."
"What happens to whoever wields that power? Is there a cure, a way to remove the power from the person?"
"I don't know much about that, but according to what my father said…" Tina hesitated, her sentence trailing off as she gazed at Stefan, who was watching her expectantly. "Why are you asking these questions? Do you possess the power?"
Stefan stared closely at her and chuckled.
"Do I look abnormal to you?"
"You're unusually curious about the box. What's your interest in it?"
"You don't look like you need the box; it's not like it's important to you anyway." Stefan said and stood up to leave.
"According to what my father said!" Tina shouted, startling the other patrons.
Stefan flinched, halting his departure, and turned to the crowd with a bow.
"I apologize for the disturbance," he said.
Tina followed his lead, also bowing.
Stefan slowly retraced his footsteps and sat down, his eyes fixed intently on Tina. "You frightened me," he muttered.
Tina rolled her eyes and sat down, exasperated. "Whatever!"
"Are you going to continue or–" Stefan began to speak, but Tina cut him off.
"The wielder can be stripped of their power, but it will come at the ultimate cost: their life!" she said. "He will die, so, does that answer your question?"
Stefan nodded solemnly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
"Sadly, yes. But I must know more. Does wielding the power render the book within the box blank and devoid of ink?"
Tina scratched her head, surprised that Stefan possessed knowledge she hadn't anticipated.
"I think so, yeah," she replied, uncertain. "My father will be able to tell you more. Will you go see him?" she offered, hoping to facilitate a meeting.
"Your father again! You continually suggest I should meet him in our conversations" Stefan said. "Your charm will not work on me."
He rose up on his feet. "I believe I'm done with you, for now."
He turned to leave, prompting Tina to shout, "What about the box!"
As Stefan proceeded toward the restaurant's exit, Tina's voice grew more urgent.
"We had a deal! Where is the–"
"It's under the table," Stefan simply responded. "Have a nice day!"
He waved his hand dismissively and exited the establishment.
Tina bent down and saw the box lying under the table, its presence unexpected.
"There you are, dear doom," she muttered, picking it up. She turned toward the entrance and frowned.
"He should have just told me before standing up that the box was right under my nose. Son of a bitch!"
*****
Stefan visited Mike's residence and informed Rachael about the conversation he had with Tina regarding the box and its power.
"Don't you think we should seek Tina's father's assistance before Mike's condition worsens?" he suggested.
"Isn't his condition already severe?" Rachael grumbled. "If we involve Tina's father, we'll be in even more trouble. We could be charged with housebreaking, and I don't want to risk going to jail or putting my brother in harm's way because of a book."
"We're obviously already in a difficult situation, and the matter at hand is far more complex than just a book," Stefan countered. "Seeking Tina's father's help and apologizing might be a step in the right direction. It could lead to finding a way to save your brother, don't you think?"
"Didn't Tina say that curing Mike would mean the end of him?"
"We can't be certain about that yet. She might have been speculating."
"Speculating?" Rachael echoed. "You think Tina is the type to do that? And judging by the mystery behind Mike, what she said might be true." She sighed. "Mike is slowly improving, transitioning from being unable to perceive light to being sensitive to it. Isn't that progress? He's also trying to understand the nature of his transformation."
"What are you two discussing?"
A voice interrupted their conversation. Stefan and Rachael turned around, shocked to see Mrs. Smith standing beside the door with her hands on her hips.
"You... You didn't go to work today?!" Rachael stammered.
"It's Saturday, dear," Mrs. Smith replied, however, her questioning stare never left Rachael.
"We're just trying to help Mike," Rachael explained.
"Yeah, that's right! We're discussing ways to offer assistance," Stefan nodded in agreement.
"If you want to help, do nothing," Mrs. Smith said, her tone pleading yet commanding. "Let the doctors handle it. You don't need to complicate things further."
"Mom, he's my brother too. Don't I have the right to be worried? Why can't I help him?" Rachael protested. "And that apart, what's happening to him goes beyond physical; it's a complicated phenomenon, and there's so much mystery surrounding his…"
Her sentence trailed off as Stefan hit her gently, shaking his head for her to say no more.
"She won't believe anything you say unless you want her to think you're crazy," he whispered to her. "Our only option is to find a way to solve this without your parents' knowledge."
Mrs. Smith's voice cut through the air once more, "What are you whispering about now? Are you plotting your mischievous actions?"
Stefan and Rachael exchanged a nervous glance, aware that they had been discussing sensitive information in her presence.
"Nothing is beyond the realm of physical explanation and the knowledge and experience of the doctors," Mrs. Smith continued. "We live in a civilized world, where technology is constantly advancing and improving our lives."
She paused, her eyes welling up with tears. "I know something unusual is happening to my son, and I'm sure everything will be alright. We just need to have faith in the doctors and their abilities."
Rachael, noticing her mother's tears, immediately pulled her into a tight hug.
Stefan, unable to bear the emotional intensity of the moment, quietly excused himself and left the room.
*****
The rest of the day was uneventful, and as night descended, Mike finally stirred from his deep slumber, despite the efforts of the medical staff to rouse him earlier.
Dr. Tom cautiously approached him, shining a slit lamp into his eyes to examine his pupils. However, Mike recoiled in agony as the light hit his eyes, and with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved the doctor aside, sending him crashing against the wall.
Dr. Tom's body hit the ground with a loud thud, and he went limp.
Mike rose from the bed, his eyes glowing with an eerie orange light as sharp claws emerged from his fingers.
His clothes tore apart as two massive wings sprouted from his back, filling the room with an otherworldly presence.
The two nurses who had rushed in to investigate the commotion took one look at Mike's menacing new form and fled in terror, screaming as they scurried down the corridor.
Mike swooped out of his ward, his wings beating powerfully as he pursued the fleeing nurses. With swift and deadly precision, he silenced them with his claws, ripping out their necks.
The corridor erupted into chaos as doctors and nurses rushed to the scene, only to fall victim to Mike's merciless attack.
The corridor was filled with gore and flesh.
"What the hell are you?" Dr. Philip, his voice barely above a whisper, muttered as he clutched his throat, blood gushing out like water from a broken pipe.
Mike, his wings still fluttering, hovered in the corridor, surveying the carnage before him.
"Mike... Mike!"
A faint, familiar voice called from behind. He turned swiftly, his wings brushing against the wall, and saw a lady—no, a woman, trembling and crying, at least two meters away.
Mike's anger surged, and he dived toward her, slashing through her ribcage and eviscerating her inner organs.
But as he looked upon his victim, his anger dissipated, replaced by horror and control. He stumbled backward, gasping.
"What have I done?" he muttered.
His eyes fell upon a familiar lifeless body on the ground, and he slowly approached it, his heart heavy with dread.
"Oh no, no, no! Mom!" He cried. "What have I done?"