CHAPTER 165: CAN YOU REMEMBER THE RAIN? ( TOM’S POV )

I was working on the final details about the presidential campaign when the rain fell.

At first, I hadn’t heard the screams despite my window being open.

Maybe the fall of the drops echoed too harshly through the town or maybe I was too lost in the political strategies to realize.

It wasn’t until then crying and the begging of this caught in the rain unionized into such a loud plea, I could no longer ignore it.

The image of people on the street ripping their own throats, vomiting their melted teeth and tongues and convulsing so violently on the wet concrete their heads would simply split open–

I will never be able to erase that image from my eyes.

It printed itself there. Undeniable and real.

As if hell itself poured on the unlucky people on the street, nobody knew what to do. How to take cover.

It was in the air. The humidity entered the lungs no matter how well you protected yourself from the rain.

It had a familiar smell.

I couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Soft traces of honey and lime burning my throat, choking me as if he himself had his fingers around my throat.

Luther’s scent.

Emiliano’s apocalypse had finally come and I haven’t had the time to stop it.

Maybe I didn’t take it seriously enough.

As I looked down the street, I felt every gaze of the dying men pointed at me. Blaming me.

"We are dying and you did nothing."

"You knew and did nothing."

"You have our blood on your hands just as much as Emiliano."

Voices.

Voices that weren’t real.

Gazes that weren’t truly seeing me.

Guilt.

I stumbled back as my lungs ached, filling themselves with the poisonous rainy air. It could have been my own hands wrapped around my throat that almost led to my near death.

It could have been the rain.

Or the guilt.

As I hit the floor, I tried to regulate my heart. The unsteady rhythm threatened to pierce my eardrums as my eyes filled with tears.

I let myself silence the voices. Breathe in Luther.

College proved to me that I can survive him. I can breathe in his pheromones and live.

This rain was nothing against what I lived through in college. As a diluted ghost of my lover wrapped around me, my heart finally caught steady and I could breathe.

I could still hear the droplets falling, squashing themselves off rooftops, on streets, on the wet cadavers outside.

As if the silence inside of the tornado, all of it was eerily peaceful.

What would you think, my love, if you saw what that monster did with your blood?

What would you do if you were forced to see the results of your nature being weaponized?

Are you watching this, my love?

Are you watching the blood being washed away, the bodies being crushed by the rain right now?

What are you thinking about, Luther?

Are you scared? Are you ashamed? Do you feel guilty?

Are you crying?

Are you screaming?

Are you safe?

The rain has long passed when I’ve opened my eyes again. The sky was unnaturally black that night with no stars showing.

As if any ray of light or hope had died earlier.

I tried to pick myself off the floor, yet I found my own body foreign to me. Limp and heavy, I could barely move it.

The puddle of bloody saliva on the floor was an undeniable reminder that I didn’t dream of this. All the screams and horror, all the shame and guilt were as real as the puddle of fluid was.

What now?

Thousands of civilians are dead.

Will the blame shifted on Lucrezia’s back be enough to just erase their existence from the planet?

I grabbed my phone.

My fingers clamped around it as if I were desperate. Maybe I was. I pressed the number and waited.

I waited.

As silence filled the room and dread took over, I focused on counting the seconds to keep me from losing my mind.

Pick up, Luther.

Pick up.

Nothing.

The breeze entered through the window. It stayed open from this afternoon and I couldn’t seem to close it.

The air was freezing against my skin.

I was cold. Lonely and cold.

What now, my love? What am I supposed to do now?

I lost count of the seconds when I finally managed to pick myself up. My hands trembled on the dirty floor as I pushed my way up.

The room spun around me, threatening to push me down again as I tried to make my way to the bathroom.

I found my own hands clawing the walls as my legs ached to reach the destination. Luckily for me, the darkness that covered the apartment made it seem as if my vision was fully functional.

What are you doing now, Luther?

Did the rain affect you too?

Are you in his arms again?

Are you crying on the shoulder of the man responsible for all of this?

The coldness of the water spiked my senses. But it wasn’t long until my brain processed the unbearable pain.

The rain got inside the water supply of the city? Of the country?

F-ck.

I hurried to wipe the water off my face as my eyes watered and reddened. I feared for a moment that I might go blind.

That maniac will kill us all.

It was a matter of time if the body would evolve or give up. If this was hard for me as a beta, I could only imagine the utter torture an omega could experience.

I regulated my breath.

I need to calm down and call Tymoth. We need to deal with this.

We need to get Emiliano to fix this. There is no way this is what he had in mind when he set the rain off.

Nobody can survive this.

No omega will live long enough. This is just Lucrezia’s plan in a different font.

At least she wanted to kill the omegas quickly.

I pressed the button to call Tymoth.

"Tom?"

"Yes."

"F-cking hell. Lych is alive. He was in the rain, but he’s alive!"

"How do you—"

"A car. I don’t even know. I just dropped him in front of my home. Lych stood in the rain like it was normal. I—I— f-ck!"

He was panting through his words. Half-happy, half-distraught in his speech, he was barely processing what had happened.

My head was throbbing as he rambled nonsense. I need to get a grip and get this man to do something.

If he takes action now, he can become a symbol powerful enough to assure his future position as the president.

Yet now, he was nothing but a mess, unable to make sense, terrified that his little brother was one step away from death.

"Tymoth."

He finally shut up. Good. Small steps.

"We need to take action now. I am happy Lych is immune. 80% or population is not. We need to grip the ropes and find a way to protect what is left of our citizens."

"How?"

I am not sure if he wanted his tone to sound so harsh and derogatory, but it was of no importance.

Despite my mind being hazy and my body in pain, I had a clear view of the facts:

This biochemic apocalypse will ask for the blood of the guilty when the forced evolution will be over.

Emiliano needs to pay.

Lucrezia needs to pay.

If I eliminate those two and earn the presidential pardon for Luther by making Tymoth the president, I’ll keep Luther finally safe.

And only then my life and his can begin.

"We need to find Emiliano and save what’s left to save. Make sure more omegas are surviving."

"That rat has long buried himself underground. He is untouchable there."

"No. He is not. He still has gardens. Healthy omegas he can’t lose in the business."

"Hahahaha."

Tymoth’s laugh painfully echoed into my ear, yet I didn’t dare to put a distance between me and the phone. I was scared my weakened hand couldn’t pick it back up.

"So he is just a two-faced greedy b-stard. He never cared about reforming society. He just played his cards for him to own almost all omegas."

"It’s irrelevant, Tymoth. What is really important now is to get the medicine and save as much as we can."

"How do you even know he has this kind of cure? Maybe he just kept his omegas safe from the rain."

"Lych is alive."

"What?"

It might have been just my mind distracting itself, but I could have swore I heard a glass dropping and shattering on the floor.

"Lych was with Luther all this time. Now Luther disappeared and Lych was delivered back to you. Who do you think did that?"

"I— no."

"Then how come Lych just stood in the rain without feeling a thing? Why is Lych immune to this, Tymoth?"

"F-ck!But why would Emiliano let my little brother live? "

"Guess."