When Kai woke for the second time, the room was darker. Night had fallen over Blackwater City, turning the window into a canvas of glittering city lights and dancing shadows. The monitor beside his bed beeped softly, displaying green and blue lines that rose and fell with the rhythm of his heart.
Dr. Chen was still there, sitting in a chair she'd pulled close to the bed. She was reading something on her tablet, her face illuminated by the faint glow of the screen. The 0 above her head glowed softly in the darkness.
"You passed out," she said without looking up. "Not unusual given your condition, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't make a habit of it. My shift ended four hours ago."
"Sorry." Kai's voice was stronger now, though his throat still felt raw.
"It's fine. I wasn't going home until you stabilized anyway." She set her tablet down and met his gaze directly. "What did you see?"
Kai's heart beat faster. "What?"
"In the mirror earlier. You looked at your reflection, saw something, and passed out. Given your head trauma, I need to know if you're experiencing visual hallucinations. It could indicate additional brain damage we haven't detected yet."
Kai could have told the truth. The thought flickered through his mind, cutting through the fog and the fear. He could have told her about the numbers, asked if she saw them too, found out whether he was losing his mind on top of losing his memories.
But something held him back. A voice in the fog, whispering in a tone that somehow felt familiar—the sound of his own voice.
Trust no one.
"Just my reflection," he answered, keeping his voice flat. "I didn't recognize myself. I stared at my face and felt nothing. No connection. Like looking at a photo of a stranger." He paused, adding a touch of vulnerability to sell the lie. "It's... deeply unsettling."
Dr. Chen studied him for a long moment. Her eyes were sharp, analytical—the eyes of someone accustomed to reading people as easily as she read medical charts. Kai got the strong impression she knew he was hiding something, or at least not telling the whole story.
But she didn't push.
"That's understandable," she said at last. "Identity is deeply tied to memory. When one is lost, the other can feel unmoored, disconnected from reality." She stood, smoothing her white coat. "I'll check on my other patients. Try to rest. Tomorrow we'll run more tests, see if there's any way to help your memory return."
She was nearly at the door when Kai spoke again.
"Dr. Chen."
She turned. "Yes?"
"How many people have you killed?"
The words slipped out before Kai could stop them, rising from somewhere deep and dark—driven by an instinct he didn't understand. He watched the doctor's face carefully, searching for any sign of recognition, any hint that she understood what he was asking.
But Dr. Chen only looked confused. Her brow furrowed, her head tilting slightly.
"Excuse me?"
Kai forced a smile. "Sorry. I don't know why I said that. Maybe a head injury thing. Slip of the tongue."
Dr. Chen's expression shifted from confusion to concern, her medical instincts taking over. "That could be a symptom of aphasia. I'll schedule some additional cognitive tests for tomorrow." She paused at the threshold. "Rest, John Doe. And if you experience any other strange episodes—hearing things, seeing things, saying things that don't make sense—let the nurses know immediately."
She left, and Kai was alone with the steady beeping of the monitors and the distant hum of the city.
He stared at the ceiling, watching how the light from outside rippled across its surface in ever-shifting patterns. His thoughts circled endlessly, returning again and again to the same number.
Ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine.
One more.
One more, and he would reach one hundred thousand.
He didn't know who he was. Didn't know where he came from or what he had done. Didn't know why he could see numbers floating above people's heads, or why his own was so impossible, so monstrous.
But he knew—with a certainty that defied memory, defied logic, defied anything that could be rationally explained—that reaching that number would mean