The strange scene with the truck was still spinning in her mind, haunting her. Various questions flashed in her head, but they never found clear answers. She just stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened, when she suddenly felt that there was someone next to her.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" the voice was sharp, frightened.
Delia Asia Vieira turned sharply and saw a man standing in front of her, right in her path. He looked confused, but there was a wariness, almost aggression, in his eyes.
"This is my street!!! What are you looking at here?! Get out of here immediately! Don't you dare even come near here!"
The man backed away slightly, but did not leave. His face expressed a mixture of bewilderment and confusion. He did not expect such an attack.
Delia Asia Vieira, feeling that he was not going to leave, took a step forward and looked at him again. Nervously, she did not know what to do with this strange man. He looked like a random passerby, but there was some hidden intention in his eyes that made her wary.
"I want to buy myself a dress," she said quietly, so that she could barely hear her own words.
The man froze, not understanding what she was talking about.
"But I've never done this before... alone at night, near the road, among trucks," robotess continued. "I don't know who you are, why you're here... what are you looking for?"
The man shook his head at first, as if brushing her words aside, but then, seeing her insistence, he shuddered, his eyes widening. His face turned red, and his hands rose, palms forward, as if defending himself from some invisible threat.
"Oh, come on, you silly girl! Go home and go to bed while it's still light, at least it'll be light!" His voice sounded irritated, and there was so much disdain in his words that Delia Asia Vieira felt uncomfortable. "You're a crazy fool!"
He paused, as if trying to end the conversation, hoping that she would leave. Delia Asia Vieira turned her back on him and walked towards the bank, slowly, feeling the warm evening air mixing with the cold breath of the night. The sky was clear of clouds, and the stars were shining brightly above the rooftops, bringing her thoughts to a strange state. She felt a little lost, as if she could not find her place in this world. A strange, endless city, filled with advertisements and people going about their business, not noticing each other.
A truck drove past with a bright advertisement for Coca-Cola on its side, and on its huge side was a bottle of the drink, from which a glass of clear liquid was poured, sparkling in the light of the street lamps.
"What a meaningless picture," Delia Asia Vieira thought, condemning it to herself. "What is this?! Why does everyone do this? Why do they even need these night walks?.. And why do I have this kind of life?"
All these thoughts came crashing down on her with renewed vigor. Delia Asia Vieira quickened her pace, but some feeling of uncertainty did not leave her. She reached the corner of the house opposite the clothing store, when suddenly she noticed another person walking towards her. He was on the other side of the road, right through the thick fog that had already begun to slowly descend on the streets of the city, filling the air with a strange mystical atmosphere.
She stopped and watched him carefully, trying to figure out who it could be. The man moved slowly, as if he was in no hurry, not paying attention to the world around him. He was tall, with striking features. His hair was light, almost white, and his eyes were clear blue, like the sky on a clear day. He was dressed in a dark cloak made of expensive fabric, under which a white shirt without a tie with a stand-up collar was visible, casually fluttering in the wind.
He walked along the sidewalk past the bank building, past the parked cars, taking steps that seemed part of the street, part of the city. Each of his movements was smooth, measured, as if he were not in a hurry, not in a hurry. Delia Asia Vieira thought that this man was so confidently inscribed in the urban picture that he seemed more than just a passerby. He was part of this scene, like the air itself, like the houses themselves, like those very billboards that she saw so often.
But then a strange feeling came over her - as if she were a random element in this world, a random passerby who had no right to be here. This feeling came so suddenly that she even shuddered. It seemed that everything in this world was happening in its own order, and she was just a small part of something much bigger. The fog around her was thickening, and the whole world seemed to be turning into a dream. Every step this man took, his calm movement along the bank, seemed not just an ordinary step. It was something more than just a path through the city.
"It's as if he doesn't see me, as if he doesn't notice me at all," thought Delia Asia Vieira, freezing in place, watching his movements.
He didn't turn his head, didn't look in her direction. All his attention was directed somewhere into the distance, somewhere where perhaps it wasn't worth looking. He was absorbed in this city, and she was a random element, a temporary obstacle, just a wind that blew past.
She took a step forward, trying to somehow break free from this strange feeling of being a stranger here. His figure began to gradually disappear into the fog, and Delia Asia Vieira realized that she had no desire to approach him and talk to him. He did not look like someone she would be interested in talking to. All she felt at that moment was a strange alienation. He was a part of this city, and she was not.
Delia Asia Vieira took a deep breath, feeling her thoughts racing and her heart beating faster. There was only one thought ringing in her head: she had an important mission to accomplish. The whole world was hanging by a thread, and she couldn't afford to be distracted. But something about this strange man who had just passed her caught her attention. She shouldn't have wasted time watching, or feeling strange emotions. Her task was much more important.
But something made her take a step forward, and then another, and now she was moving in his direction, not understanding why her feet were leading her there. Why did she wonder where he was going? Why did she want to talk to him so much? There was something about his calm, measured movement that caught her attention.
He stopped at the high brick walls that surrounded the construction site. The walls were covered in layers of dust, and next to them stood a small Mercedes truck, bright red. It was clearly a new car, freshly painted. In the sun, its paint played with strange shades, creating a feeling of some mystical attraction, as if the truck was part of some hidden reality, something that could not be immediately understood, but something that demanded attention.
Delia Asia Vieira came a little closer, almost unconsciously, her gaze continuing to follow the man. The truck was parked right next to the fence, while everything around it was destroyed. Pieces of bricks, broken glass, and fragments of old windows covered with cracks testified to the fact that something terrible had happened here. The house had probably been destroyed by an explosion - the traces were too obvious. The glass on the first floor had been smashed outwards, and the remains of the window frames were covered with a web of cracks, as if time itself was trying to hide the consequences of this destruction.
Everything looked strange, unreal. This red truck in the context of the ruined walls created a feeling of antiquity, as if it were an artifact from the distant past. This impression was reinforced by the fact that in the background of all this destruction there was also a small green bus of the brand, which did not fit into the surrounding landscape at all. It seemed to be there by chance, as another strange addition to the overall picture left by the catastrophe.
Delia Asia Vieira couldn't take her eyes off this strange contrast, and finally, deciding that she couldn't just leave, she took a step forward, then another, and now she was almost crossing the road. She wasn't just interested, she felt some kind of inexplicable attraction, as if he were the key to something important.
"Hey," she called, trying to get his attention. "You're not from around here, are you?"
The man didn't even stop. His steps remained as confident as if he hadn't heard her.
Delia Asia Vieira quickened her pace a little, now walking right next to him, but the man paid no attention to her. He seemed not to notice her, continuing on his way, calmly moving his feet, not changing his rhythm.
"Do you know what happened here?" she asked again, but he didn't respond, only quickened his pace.
Something inside her twitched. This ignoring, this aloofness... She had never experienced anything like it. She couldn't understand why he was acting as if she were invisible.
She stopped, watching his back, which gradually disappeared into the darkness of the night. Her gaze could not tear itself away from how he dissolved into this empty, silent night, and a strange feeling did not leave her.
"Why are you ignoring me?" she muttered under her breath, as if trying to find an explanation for what had just happened.
And then, suddenly, unexpectedly for her, the man stopped and turned sharply towards her.
"I don't know your name," he said, looking at her with puppy eyes. "But I want to tell you... I like you! I like you very, very much!"
Delia Asia Vieira almost exploded. Her hands instantly clenched into fists, and her inner voice screamed:
"How dare he!"
But at that moment, her mind reacted faster than her body. She remembered what had happened in the park, when she had almost killed that stranger, and how badly it had ended.
"You shouldn't start a fight with someone you don't know," she thought, forcing herself to take a step back and calm down.
Instead, she exhaled and, with her most charming smile, said barely audibly:
"What did you say? You like me?"
The man narrowed his eyes a little, but his smile grew wider, almost genuine. He sighed and leaned a little closer.
"Yes, I do." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "My name is Mark. I want to invite you to dinner tonight. Anywhere you want. If you have any plans for today, call me tomorrow morning - before ten."
With these words, he took a small piece of paper out of his pocket, quickly wrote down a phone number on it and thrust it into her hand. It all happened so quickly that Delia Asia Vieira barely had time to realize what had happened.
"We'll meet," he said, and without waiting for an answer, he turned around and quickly walked along the sidewalk.
Delia Asia Vieira remained standing, still feeling the warmth of his hand on hers, which still held the piece of paper with the number. She looked at it automatically, but the man had already dissolved into the thick fog that began to fill the street, as if absorbing his figure. His steps seemed to have completely disappeared, and only a light veil of uncertainty remained in the air.
Delia Asia Vieira looked up, not understanding what was happening. This moment left her at a loss. She looked around, trying to understand what had just happened. On the one hand, she was a little confused, and on the other, this Mark, his confidence and straightforwardness, were unexpected.
"Maybe he really wanted something special?" Delia Asia Vieira thought, not understanding why she was so interested in this stranger.
But something in his words still caught her attention when, through the thick fog, partly mixed with rain, she saw a lone red taxi light. The car moved forward, slowly disappearing into the night around the corner by the cinema. She stood and watched as the light disappeared, going into the distance until it dissolved completely. The wind ran along the street, and the rain pounded the asphalt harder and harder, mixing with the fog.
Delia Asia Vieira sighed and turned her back on all those cars. Their lights, reflecting off the wet asphalt, flickered like lights in the night. She didn't care about them. She walked without looking back, straight towards her house. The path led through the park, past the fountain standing in the center of the lawn, surrounded by ancient trees. The umbrella in her hands did little to protect her from the rain, but Delia Asia Vieira didn't pay attention. Her thoughts were far from the rain and the streets. Everything returned to that strange conversation with Dr. Hastings and the events that happened after that.
"I know one place... you can see anything there," she recalled the words from the past, not immediately understanding why they suddenly popped up in her head again.
But then she thought of the statue of Canadian beauty queen Asia Vieira, whose stone eyes seemed alive, as if she could speak to anyone if she wanted. The memory only heightened her sense that something strange was happening around her. She stopped and looked around.
There was a turn ahead, behind which was a drugstore. Delia Asia Vieira didn't know how to get there, and hesitated for a moment. There was silence and emptiness all around. Only in the distance could she see an old house with high towers on the roof, like in old movies. But she didn't want to be distracted. She decided to go straight ahead, through the park, to the house. Suddenly, it dawned on her.
"Why not go to the drugstore?" she thought, looking up. "There's probably a phone there. I can call Robert's at home. I know the company's number."
She walked on, thinking out loud:
"But what good will that do?" Her voice broke the silence, and she felt its sound hanging in the air.
Out of nowhere, she suddenly remembered her last conversation with a psychotherapist from New York, Dr. Hastings. He had talked about the number 666, considering it the sign of the Beast, who could also be the Antichrist. At first it had seemed strange to her, absurd, like some kind of myth. But now that she thought about it, the number became a logical sign of the times, a mark that stayed with her, haunting her.
"The beast," she said out loud, as if testing the sound of the word. "The Antichrist. Can I resist him?"
It was a question she asked herself over and over again as she stood outside the drugstore, feeling the cold rain soaking her hair, making it almost impossible to walk normally. The sky was covered with gray clouds, and the air felt heavy and damp. All she wanted was to call Robert and let him know what she was thinking, what had happened over the past few days. Maybe talking to him would help her gain some clarity. Maybe Robert could explain what was going on.
Taking a step forward, she opened the door of the pharmacy and walked in. It was dimly lit inside. The smell of medicine, mixed with something slightly musty, immediately enveloped her. But that was not what caught her attention. She froze in place, looking at the floor.
Lying on the tiled floor, right in the middle of the small drugstore, was a man. His face was blue and a small puff of air came out of his mouth, but his body was not moving. He was dressed like a soldier, with leather pants and a McDonald's style cap, but it was an odd combination. The jacket was black, with little stars on the shoulders, like an old military uniform. The cap sat a little too tight on his head, and the hood was pulled down to his eyes.
At first, Delia Asia Vieira thought the man might have simply had too much to drink. Such cases were not uncommon in big cities. But as she took a step forward to get closer, her gaze focused on his face, and then she realized her mistake.
He wasn't drunk. HE WAS DEAD!
Delia Asia Vieira's heart sank in surprise and fear. This man did not look like someone who had simply fallen to the floor from exhaustion or had accidentally fallen asleep. His face was too still, too cold to be alive. His eyes were closed and there was no sign of breathing. This was a man who did not breathe, did not move, did not live.
Delia Asia Vieira froze, her hand still gripping the door of the pharmacy. She felt her body slowly breaking out in a cold sweat, even though the air was still damp and cool. Her first instinct was to retreat. To quickly walk out, close the door, and go about her business as if nothing had happened. But she couldn't.
The fact that she was standing in front of a dead body shocked her, but her eyes were on this man. His uniform was too formal, almost too formal for an ordinary citizen. He didn't look like a homeless person or an alcoholic. This was someone with a story, with some important role that she couldn't understand.
Delia Asia Vieira took a step back, trying not to look at the dead body, but at the same time she couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow connected to her own search. The dead man, his strange appearance, his clothes - it all seemed part of a riddle that she had to solve.
She walked up to the counter where the phone was and, her hands shaking, picked it up. Her thoughts went back to Robert. She had to call him. Maybe he knew something, maybe he understood something about this situation. But as soon as she dialed the number, her gaze shifted back to the dead man.
The whole situation seemed terribly strange, and the sense of unease she felt grew with each passing minute. Who was this man? Why was he lying here? And why did she feel that this whole scene was somehow connected to her own experiences?
Delia Asia Vieira held the phone with trembling fingers and barely had time to hear the dial tone when suddenly a loud and frighteningly cheerful voice came from the speaker:
"Thorn Industries" welcomes you!"
Her heart sank. Someone turned up the volume on purpose, and disturbing music began to play on the line. An ominous choir was singing something dark in Latin, words that sounded like a curse:
"Ave Satani! AVE SATANI! AVE!!! AVE!!!"
A chill ran down Delia Asia Vieira's spine, and suddenly the pharmacy seemed to be plunged into darkness. The light that had just dimly illuminated the shelves of medicine and the cash register began to fade, as if it was being devoured by that damned melody.
In a panic, Delia Asia Vieira threw the receiver back on the cradle. Her mechanical heart, despite the lack of real emotions, was squeezed by this strange sensation - a mixture of horror and bewilderment. She tried to restore logic to her processor:
"Why do I, a robot, feel fear?"
But before she could think about it, she heard the sound of a motorcycle engine, receding but growing. The noise penetrated even through the thick glass doors of the drugstore. Delia Asia Vieira turned her head sharply toward the entrance, and her eyes caught the flashing light of headlights.
The next moment, the door of the pharmacy swung open with a bang. A man stood in the doorway - tall, in a black leather jacket. His face was cold and smirking arrogantly, his eyes narrow and sinister, like two slits. Delia Asia Vieira recognized him immediately: it was Damien Thorn - a name that still sounded like a curse in her head.
"So this is where you hang out, my dear," he said mockingly and stepped inside.
Delia Asia Vieira instinctively backed away, bumping into the cash register. Her sensors screamed of danger, but she couldn't move, paralyzed by a fear she shouldn't feel according to all the laws of her programming logic. Damien approached slowly, enjoying her helplessness.
"It's not nice, my dear, it's not nice to leave the affairs of your branch to the mercy of fate!" he whispered with a grin, bringing his face closer to hers.
She could smell the burning and gasoline smell coming from his skin, as if he had just crawled out of hell. But suddenly, literally a step away from her, Damien stopped abruptly. His eyes widened and a shadow of surprise flashed across his face. The next moment, his figure began to melt like smoke, and a second later he disappeared into the darkness, as if the wind had carried him away. The sound of the engine disappeared with it, leaving behind only a hollow echo in Delia Asia Vieira's ears.
She was left alone in the empty, dark drugstore. Her hands were shaking and cold sweat was running down her forehead. But the strangest thing was that her internal sensors were malfunctioning. It was impossible: robots don't see ghosts, and they certainly shouldn't feel anxiety or fear.
"There's a glitch in the program..." Delia Asia Vieira muttered under her breath, wiping the synthetic sweat from her artificial forehead.
But her mind - if it could be called that - could find no explanation for what had happened. She glanced again at the threshold where Damien Thorn had just stood, but there was no trace of his presence there.
The pharmacy was once again plunged into its usual semi-darkness and silence, as if nothing had happened. Delia Asia Vieira, trying to pull herself together, slowly straightened up and took a deep breath.
"Just a misperception... Or maybe?"
Delia Asia Vieira turned back to the dark threshold of the drugstore once more, but there was still no one there. She wiped her damp forehead with her palm, sighed, and decided to write off what she had seen as a glitch in her system.
"It's just an illusion," she told herself, trying to bring rationality back into her thoughts.