Lyaeus (closed)

[Raffe]

Raffe stared out the window as Ephraim spoke. The city spread out below; the same office view as only a week before, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d signed his life over and begged Paragon for a place to stay. He’d felt out of place then; small, scruffy, inferior. None of that had changed, but it no longer mattered the same way.

There were more NDAs to sign; he neither knew or asked why, just scribbled his signature wherever Ephraim pointed. Assurances followed of confidentiality when the paper inevitably gained traction. They’d need to monitor a time longer, but Raffe didn’t need to stay for that, and all the markers were good.

Paragon had discovered a cure for the Sickness.

It should have been momentous, but all Raffe felt was a sense of being outside his body. Everything seemed surreal, like someone had taken him apart and pieced it back together wrong. So he simpy weathered the meeting until Ephraim finally stood and offered out a hand.

Some time later he trailed out the building, vaguely aware of the receptionist calling his name, but he didn’t stop. Nothing hurried his steps. It wasn’t an escape. His hands slunk deep in his pockets, eyes on the pavement, and he disappeared into the busy city crowds.