For a moment, Delia felt that Bugenhagen was sincere.
"I just don't know how to fix it," she admitted. "It feels like everything is getting out of control."
"Sometimes it's better not to leave anything for later. Maybe you should talk to Jordan and explain everything," Bugenhagen suggested, playing out his plan. "If he really loves you, he'll understand."
His words echoed in her heart, but at the same moment she remembered how she didn't want to involve Jordan in her problems.
"I tried, but he thinks I can't trust him," she felt vulnerable again.
"I can help," Bugenhagen offered, a new edge to his tone. "I know how to gain his trust. If you want, I can make him see that you're willing to open up."
Delia felt fascinated by the idea, but also unsettled.
"But how?" she asked, looking up at Bugenhagen.
"Just let me know what you need," he replied, and there was a quiet hint in his voice that he knew how to get around the Convention. "I'll help you reconnect."
At this time, Jordan returned home, his legs feeling heavy from a long day at work. He opened the door to his apartment and, after looking around the empty space, went up to the roof of his building. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Delia standing at the edge of the roof. The moon was shining on her face, making her features softer and dreamier.
"Hello," she said, her voice quiet but relieved.
"Hi," Jordan replied, his eyes never leaving her face. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"I needed some fresh air," Delia said, coming closer.
She looked out at the city, and Jordan paused for a moment, enjoying the silence and beauty of the night landscape.
"You know," he began, "I've been thinking about us, about what happened. I just want you to be honest with me."
Delia sighed, feeling her heart beat faster. She knew the conversation was inevitable, but she didn't know where to start.
"I... I just don't want you to worry about me," she said, trying to choose her words. "There are things I can't explain."
"But I want to know," Jordan insisted, his voice soft but insistent. "I worry about you when you're with your team. I feel like you're hiding something."
"I don't need this," Delia said, her voice shaking. "I don't want you to get caught up in this."
"But I'm in this now, Delia. We're in this together, and I want you to be able to trust me." He stepped closer, their eyes meeting. "You're not alone. We can get through this together."
"You have no idea how dangerous this is. Makoto, the Convention... All of this could affect your life," her voice trembled with emotion. "I don't want you to be in danger."
"You can trust me," Jordan stepped closer, his eyes searching hers as if searching for the truth. "If I know what you've been doing, I can figure out how to help."
She opened her mouth to say something, but instead she just sighed. All the weight she had been carrying now felt like a weight on her chest.
"I can't say much," she said. "But I can say that all these secrets are leading to a big conflict. And if Makoto catches me..."
Jordan grabbed her by the shoulders, his gaze becoming more serious.
"I won't let that happen. You're not alone, and I'm not going to leave you. Let's work on this together."
She met his gaze and felt her inner fears begin to dissolve. Maybe there was a chance for their relationship to be restored.
"Are you really ready to accept this?" she asked, her voice shaking with hope and fear.
And then her psi-kinetic powers suddenly activated. She felt a piercing premonition, as if an invisible wall around her was beginning to crack. Before Jordan could respond, Delia spun around and saw a figure standing at the edge of the roof. It was Bugenhagen, his face illuminated by the moonlight, a glint of malice in his eyes.
"How good to see you, Delia," he said, his voice sweet as poison. "You're in the right place at the right time."
Delia quickly pulled herself together, her mind filled with thoughts of Jordan.
"What are you doing here, Bugenhagen?" she asked, trying to hide her confusion.
She knew she had to act quickly and decisively.
"I came to talk," he said, coming closer. "About you, about your team, and how you can help us."
Delia felt her muscles tense. She couldn't let him manipulate her.
"I will not help the Convention," she said, looking him in the eye. "I am on the side of truth."
"The truth?" Bugenhagen chuckled. "Do you still believe in these fairy tales? You must understand that everything that happens has a price. You must make a choice."
At that moment, Jordan, still not understanding what was happening, took a step towards Delia.
"Who is this man? What does he want from you?" his voice was full of concern and, oddly enough, jealousy.
Bugenhagen looked at Jordan and his smile widened.
"You don't know, do you? I'm here to make this process easier. Delia has to make a choice saving your life or her own future."
Delia felt something heavy tightening inside her. Her abilities were growing, ready to burst forth, but she knew that if she didn't do it in time, it could all turn into a disaster.
"I won't do anything to hurt him," she stated, feeling her psi-kinetic energy begin to pulse through her veins.
"Then you leave me a choice," Bugenhagen began to approach, and Delia knew that time was running out.
Concentrating, she focused all her energy, directing it at Bugenhagen, and he stopped as if he had hit an invisible wall. Delia felt her abilities begin to manipulate the space around them, and she used that power to push him away from Jordan.
"Run!" she screamed at Jordan. "Go away! I can handle it!"
"No!" he replied, his eyes full of fear and determination. "I will not leave you!"
At that moment, Bugenhagen, repelled by her power, came back to himself, and fury blazed in his eyes.
"Do you think you can stop me? I know you're capable of more!"
Delia felt her strength grow, but her heart was clenched in pain. She knew she had to protect Jordan, but leaving him in danger would be a failure. Everything she had been through, everything she had fought for, was now jeopardizing their relationship.
"You cannot break me," she said with confidence, feeling her power take shape. "I will not give in to your manipulation!"
As if in response to her words, the wind began to rustle and a storm arose on the roof. At that moment, Delia decided that she had to leave Earth, return to the Moon Base and leave Jordan behind so that he could live a normal life, free of her problems. But how to explain this to him? How to tell him of her intention to leave without breaking his heart?
As if in response to her unclear thoughts, the moon looked especially bright and attracted her. Delia stood up and went to the table where a blank sheet of paper and a pen lay. She sat for a long time, looking at the whiteness of the paper, and with each passing moment her heart sank with regret.
"Dear Jordan," she began, her hand shaking as she wrote. "If you're reading this, it means I've already left. I can't explain all the reasons, but I have to go."
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she paused for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts.
"I love you more than anything in the world, but my life is full of dangers. I can't let you be a part of it. You deserve better."
Every word was hard to say, and Delia read over and over what she had written, but she knew it was necessary.
"I will return to you in my dreams, even if our paths diverge. I hope that one day you will understand why I had to do this."
Delia felt a bitterness building in her chest as she folded the letter into an envelope. Satisfied that everything was ready, she left the letter on the table, carefully folding it for him to find. Sighing, Delia stepped outside, sheltering from the rain. She looked up at the moon in the sky, which seemed to whisper hope to her, that one day, despite the distance, they would meet again, if only in her dreams.
And with that thought, she entered the spaceport, which was full of sounds and movement: passengers with suitcases, depressed workers, and noisy aeronauts passing by. In the waiting room, she sat down on a hard plastic chair, her suitcase beside her. She wanted to go back, but she knew that would only be self-destructive. Delia closed her eyes, imagining the Moon base, and all her memories that now seemed so distant.
At this time, Jordan was sitting at home, holding her letter in his hands. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he could not contain his bitterness as he read each line over and over again.
"You deserve better," these words pierced his heart, and he could not understand how she could talk about her feelings so easily when she herself was suffering.
"Why can't you tell me everything, Delia?" he blurted out, and he felt betrayed.
His mind tried to understand what she was doing, but his soul couldn't come to terms with the thought that he had lost her without a chance to change anything.
"I still love you," he said into the void, as if her presence could hear him.
With each minute that passed as Delia waited in the spaceport, she realized that her decision to leave Earth could change everything. She paused for a moment, turning around, as if she could feel Jordan there, ready to throw himself into her arms. But in her head, there was a voice: This was her choice.
"You have to be strong," she whispered to herself. "You can't be with him while his life is at risk."
As she stepped onto the platform, she was surrounded by a bright archway that led to the spaceship that would take her to the Moon Base. Delia took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She climbed aboard, her gaze sliding over the outfits of the passersby, frozen in worry, but in the chaos, she did not notice Edwin approaching her.
"Delia!" he cried, pushing his way through the crowd.
His face was filled with alarm and bewilderment.
"Are you going to leave? Abandon us?"
She turned sharply and met his eyes, full of expectation and betrayal. Delia felt her heart pounding "in that look was all the strength of their friendship, and now she felt like a traitor.
"Edwin, I..." she began, but the words got stuck in her throat.
"You can't just disappear!" Edwin interrupted, his voice growing more tense. "We're a team! We trust each other! You have to tell me what's going on!"
Delia felt a tremor rise inside her. She knew she couldn't explain everything without endangering his life and the lives of everyone else. But she hadn't expected Edwin to take her departure so badly.
"I'm not deserting!" she cried, trying to keep her voice confident. "I just... I have to do this for myself and for you."
But at that moment, the noise around them changed abruptly. A cracking sound came from the main exit, and a shrill alarm sounded in the air. Delia and Edwin turned at the same time, and their eyes met a dark shadow penetrating the spaceport building. A group of people in black suits with the Convention logo on their chests pierced the space with their presence.
"It's them," Delia whispered, realizing that her instincts had not deceived her.
She knew the threats were not gone, and her choice to leave might not be as easy as she had hoped.
"What should we do?" Edwin asked, his voice shaking with fear.
He was ready to act, but he didn't know how.
"We have to find a way out," Delia replied, trying to remain calm. "If they catch us, it will be too late."
She grabbed his hand and they headed for the exit, trying not to attract attention. As they made their way through the crowd, Delia's heart filled with determination. She had to protect her friends and deal with the Convention.
"Edwin," she said, "I can't leave you. If I go, it will only make things worse. We must work together."
Edwin nodded, his expression changing from anger to determination.
"What do you suggest?"
Delia took a step towards the exit, determined, her mind working at top speed and ideas beginning to form.
"We must get to the ship," she said. "If we can board it, it will give us a chance to survive and respond to the Convention."
Hearing footsteps approaching and seeing the shadows growing more visible, they began to move quickly toward the exit. But then she suddenly felt a searing pain in her stomach as a bullet pierced her flesh. For a moment, the world around Delia froze, all sounds seemed muffled. She staggered, her legs felt like jelly, but instincts "or perhaps her psi-kinetic abilities "helped her stay on her feet. Edwin, instantly understanding what had happened, rushed to her side, supporting her with his hands as she began to sag.
"Delia!" he cried, his voice filled with horror. "Damn, they hit you!"
She struggled to stay conscious, all her energy was spent trying to maintain control. The pain was intense but not overwhelming, and she knew that if she lost consciousness now, they would both be in even greater danger.
"Edwin, we need to go... Quickly..." she whispered, clinging to the last of her strength.
The Convention agent, hidden in the crowd, was moving toward them with cold determination. Delia knew they had no time left. They were becoming more vulnerable with every passing second.
"Delia, you can't... You're hurt!" Edwin, despite his fear, knew they had to move. He looked at her pale face and pulled her close, helping her take a step back.
"I... can," she replied, her voice shaking, desperately trying to stay conscious. "We have to get to shelter."
She quickly used her psi-kinetic abilities to read the emotions of those around her and find a safe path through the crowd. The path was unclear and everything looked blurry, but a light flashed in her mind. A thin line in her mind pointed to a narrow passage between two columns where the crowd was not too dense. This was their chance.
"There... Behind the columns," she whispered with effort.
Edwin gritted his teeth and pushed her forward, holding her tightly by the waist to keep her from losing her balance. The Convention agent was already pushing through the crowd, his gaze cold and determined. They had almost reached the columns when Delia staggered again, almost losing consciousness. Edwin barely managed to catch her, holding her close and continuing to move faster.
"Delia, hold on!" he pleaded, his voice full of panic. "We're almost there!"
But her consciousness was slowly slipping away. Every step was torture, and she felt the strength leaving her body. They took cover behind the columns, out of sight. Edwin lowered her to the floor, pressing her gently against the wall, and quickly examined the wound. Her face was pale, her lips were dry, but her eyes still burned with determination.
"Edwin, I... I can... I won't let them catch us," she whispered, breathing heavily.
Edwin pulled a first aid kit from his backpack. His hands shook as he tried to stop the bleeding. Delia watched him through a foggy mind, her thoughts already elsewhere. She knew she couldn't let herself fall, but the pain was unbearable.
"We have to find shelter," he said, treating the wound and trying to bandage it as quickly as possible. "But first, you have to survive this. Don't give up, please."
She nodded, but the pain was consuming her. The dawning awareness of the threat from the Convention washed over her again, and she knew they were being followed. Delia tried to gather her strength, feeling the last bits of energy draining from her body.
"We can't stay here," she muttered, almost losing touch with reality. "They won't stop... they'll come looking for us..."
Edwin looked into her eyes and saw that she was barely hanging on. But he couldn't leave her. As much as he wanted to protect her, he knew that the only way to save them both was to keep moving.
"I'll get you out of here," he said confidently, and although he wasn't entirely sure of his words, they gave Delia a small ray of hope.
She nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder, and Edwin quickly wheeled Delia to the nearest hospital. She was pale, and her breathing had become shallow and irregular. They were immediately met by medics at the entrance to the hospital, noticing her condition. But within minutes, after she was placed on a gurney and diagnostics began, it became clear that the matter was more complicated than it seemed.
Not only was her wound bleeding, but her psi-kinetic abilities and biochemical processes associated with long stays on the Moon and frequent flights into space made treatment difficult. Medical equipment could not provide clear data "her body's indicators were sharply rising and falling. Delia's complex system of blood circulation and energy flows in her body reacted to the wound completely unpredictably.
"We've never seen anything like this," one of the doctors said, frowning as he watched her readings on the screen. "Her body is unusual, clearly adapted to a different mode of existence... It could be related to the moon, or cosmic radiation, or something else. We need more time to figure out what to do."
Edwin stood nearby, his fists clenched, his gaze darting from Delia to the doctors. He knew that her condition was directly related to the superhuman abilities she had developed and her constant contact with energies that ordinary people could not understand.
"Doctor," he said tensely, trying to contain his anxiety, "we can't wait too long. Her condition is deteriorating. She's not just human, her abilities... They're complex. You have to do something."
"We're doing everything we can, but her body is unique," the doctor looked at Edwin carefully, trying to calm him down. "We need to understand how her body interacts with the environment, especially given her unusual abilities. Any careless intervention could make the situation worse."
Edwin gritted his teeth and walked over to Delia, who was lying unconscious on the bed. He held her hand, feeling how cold it was, but her pulse was still weak and erratic.
"We can't just wait," he whispered, looking into her face. "I won't let her die."
At that moment, another doctor, more experienced, entered the office with a serious expression on his face. He looked at Delia's indicators and, thinking, said:
"I know of one procedure that might help. It's risky, but given her condition and the influence of cosmic factors, it's our only chance. We must use her own psi-energy to stimulate tissue regeneration."
"But it's dangerous!" another doctor objected, alarmed. "If we miscalculate the dosage or make a mistake in setting up the flows, it could destroy her!"
"But if we do nothing, she will definitely die," the experienced doctor answered firmly. "She has a connection with the cosmos, with energies that we do not fully understand. Her body will be able to restore itself if we correctly direct her abilities."