"But I was very unwilling to give up my belief... Thus disbelief crept over me at a very slow rate, but was at last complete." -Charles Darwin

He's still looking at me with that stomach-churning look. His eyes twinkle with several feelings that that had long ago been stricken from his emotional vocabulary.

The slight quirk to his lips. Relief.

The clasping of hands behind his back. Eagerness.

Worst of all, there's the single emotion that his entire body is showing. From the moment he caught sight of me, my father's entire body language changed. Familiarity. Except he recognizes me for all the wrong reasons, because I am not my mother, and he very well knows-knew-that the mention of her name would throw off my weak grasp of control over myself.

"Ileana, you're crying." His face darkens all of a sudden at the sight of tears streaming down my face. How he hasn't noticed my distress before, I'm not sure. I suppose the man standing in front of me isn't as extrinsically focused as I am. It's almost as if he's lost in his own head.

I attempt to say something, but all that comes out of me is a broken sob.

"What's wrong?" My father asks, his eyebrows drawing in to a permanent frown. Even watching his reaction to my crying makes me feel a wave of nausea. He never looked at my mother this way, not even when she was bedridden. Back when we visited her every day, it was as if his entire aura dimmed at the sight of my mother. His disposition would grey and shrivel to disbelief, I noticed, but never, not once, did my father look at my mother the way he's looking at me now. His face is darkened, yes, but it's not grieving. It's not dimmed.

It's analytical and anxious, but it's not in any way the look a man would give the love of his life. The way his eyes glance over me and his eyebrows slope down is not a look of worry or compassion. It's a look of a scientist staring at a test subject.

And, unfortunately, I'm well-acclimated with this role.

With one last shaky exhale, I finally whisper, "I-I'm not..."

Before I can say another word, white flashes form before my eyes, dissolving into the Cosmas emblem. The Graft.

"Mr. Darwin! It's a pleasure to finally have you here."

The emblem slowly fizzles out to the smiling profile of Nes. Her wide grin doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Seeing as you have been absent from Mecca for quite some time, there are a few protocols that we must address before integrating you to the community."

Even with my senses enveloped by the Graft, I feel my eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Mecca.  The name buzzes in my head for a split second as I try to pinpoint its origin before it all comes rushing back to me.  Chase.  Right before I was forced to abandon him, he mentioned the name of the organization responsible for clearing my medical records.  Even as the Graft is not directly capable of taking control of a person's subconscious, my head throbs from the strain of attempting to comprehend two things at once.  Giving up, I decide that it'd be best to maintain my focus on Nes's face, which at the moment wavers in front of me.  For a split second, it's as if she becomes transparent, leaving the view empty void of the Cosmas emblem. However, it's what's behind the emblem that concerns me. In almost indistinct writing is the name of the organization in question.

M.E.C.C.A.  It's an acronym.

Before I can investigate it further, Nes's face immediately covers it, her smile always an irritating constant.

"If you listen to our basic requirements for entry, we'd be happy to accommodate you in every way possible.  We were hoping seeing a familiar face would calm you down a bit, Mr. Darwin.  You have nothing to fear."

And with that, my father and I are relieved of the grasp of the intercom.  I feel the familiar weight of my  body once again along with the steady beat of the Sun that I had barely noticed before.  For someone so against being cooped up, I'm surprised at myself for not finding any solace in the fact that I'm finally outside.

Hearing the unsteady breathing beside me, however, reminds me of why I haven't noticed these insignificant details. 

"You're not wearing your glasses," I realize out loud as I finally make an effort to look at the man beside me.  As if I needed another reason to feel alienated from my own father, his signature "disgruntled bookworm" look is no longer apparent.  All that's left is the faint indentation on the bridge of his nose, intensifying the sensation that I'm in some sort of incorporeal reality.

"Ha, you always did think I'd look good in glasses," he chuckles, as if my observation is an inside joke that I'm supposed to know about.  That my mother supposedly knew about.  "I've never worn them, though.  Never had to."

"Never."  It's meant to come out as a question, but the finality of his words overcome me.  Does he have any recollection of his past life?  Does he even remember me– Chase?  Is he stuck in some sort of time-warped reality?

An overwhelming torrent of guilt passes over me as I consider the circumstances that my father must have been in when we left him behind.  His own children– the ones he spent a good portion of his life trying to protect– left him in the dust the moment things got complicated.  I shouldn't be surprised that he's gone half-mad. 

"There's no way to nullify a moral culpability."  His voice tears me away from my thoughts. 

"W-what?"  I choke out, my voice once again wavering from the lump that is eternally lodged in my throat.

"It's not your fault, Sweetheart," he murmurs.  "He was doing what he thought was best.  I... I shouldn't be here."

He's staring at me.  This time, however, it's not with cold indifference, but with pity.  The longer the length of silence, the more confused my father looks.  It's as if he's fighting a battle within himself– like his thoughts are stuck within a state of entropy and he's trying to reorganize them.

"I shouldn't... be here?" He repeats, though this time it seems as though he's asking the question to himself.  That's when I see it– the shift.  For one millisecond, the calculated, cold posterior unveils what really lies within.  It's fear.  And for some reason unknown to myself, I want to close my eyes.  I want to continue to feel alienated from the man before me.  I want to disassociate myself from this reality I have seen– from the fear in his eyes– because if there's one face that I have seen enough of, it's the face of fear.  I woke up from almost every nightmare to that same expression on my brother's face.  I saw it in my mother's eyes on the first day that the doctors allowed me to enter her hospital room unattended.  I saw it plastered to the unmoving bodies that were spread along the staircase back at the hotel. 

I'm now realizing that the staircase never truly ended– that I'm only elevating myself higher to new levels of terror.  No matter where I turn or which direction I go, the next step I take will always have me face-to-face with the abyss– this peculiar abyss that will not merely gaze back.  As I catch the wavering expression on my father's face, I have the inordinate suspicion that he has fallen into the same trap.  He's lost, and to my utter torment, I don't know where I can find him.  I don't know where I can find myself.

Silence continues to pass between us until the hatch to the building finally opens. 

"Who did this to you?" I feel the question roll off my tongue, though it's too late to find an answer.  The man in front of me is too caught up in his own thoughts to take consideration of my own.

And that's how they find us.  Me, the girl who is too consumed with fear of the future and my father, the man who is too consumed with fear of the past.

Two fucked up keys to one very, very complicated lock. 

***

I don't think I've seen a genuine smile on Nes's face until the moment she emerges from inside.  Unlike me and my father, Nes is covered from head to toe in what looks like a form-fitting hazmat suit.  Just like the rest of the facility, the suit is infuriatingly white, with not even a speck of dust to latch onto it even as Nes steps on the dirt.  I'm mildly surprised by the presence of two armed guards that flank Nes.  They're wearing similar hazmat suits, though this time with the Cosmas insignia printed over the chest.

"Mr. Darwin," Nes greets my father, brushing past me as if I'm just some tumbleweed that got in her way.  I'm almost offended, but I catch myself from falling to that level.  My dignity can be shattered by many things, but Nes will never be one of them.  Regardless, I still take insult from the soft chuckle that comes out of one of the guards.  Both of them seem to have fallen back to give Nes and my father space and from seeing my apparent distress from Nes's power tactic, one of them decided to dig themselves an early grave by laughing at me.  Since I can't tell which one it is, I strategize and glare at both of them.

"Hello," my father replies, appearing to have shaken himself from his recent stupor.  "I don't believe we've met before.  I'm assuming you work for the company?"

Company?  I never heard someone refer to this organization as a company.

"I'm the chief advisor of one of the branches within MECCA, yes."  Nes extends her arm out to shake my father's hand.  Such a formality makes me even more sick over what I've agreed to.  I'm the one pulling him into this mess that I've created for myself.  I'm the one who decided to sell my father out in order to save my brother and Dox.  Project Luna projected this identity of genetic superiority to me from the moment I stepped into the dome, and now I'm acting as if I truly am a divine ruler.  I trade lives when I can barely get a handle over my own.

"I've never heard of MECCA having a branch of the grid," he says with a twinge of uncertainty in his voice.  After a moment's hesitation, he shakes Nes's hand, continuing, "I'm glad to be of service, I suppose."

"If you don't mind me asking, Mr. Darwin, how exactly did you get here?"  One of the guards speaks up.  From looking at Nes's glare, it appears as though his little intrusion is unwanted in the conversation.  I almost laugh out loud when I see the grimace on his face.

"What the officer is trying to say is we've been searching for you for quite some time, but never fully come in contact.  Your whereabouts have been unknown to us until today, when you appeared on our security grid."  Nes glances back at the officer as if to say another peep out of you and you'll be the one stuck outside.

"I was...  I don't know, actually," my father stumbles over his words.  He rubs his temples furiously, as if urging his memories to resurface.  "The last thing I remember is being here and feeling the need to go inside.  All I know is that I have work to do.  Immediately."

Nes grins at this.  "Indeed you do, Mr. Darwin.  Once again, I'd like to welcome you to MECCA's newest and grandest project."

As my father exchanges thanks, I watch as Nes nods to the officers.

"This is just a security measure to ensure safe entry," Nes says before turning around.  "I'm sorry for the pain."

In a fluid motion, the guard standing closest to me pulls my arms behind me.  I hear a soft click as the metal cuffs lock around my wrists.

"What are you doing?" I hiss as the guard makes sure to tighten the cuffs as painfully as possible.  "Nes  promised me–"

"Promises are for the naive and desperate, Ms. Darwin," he whispers harshly into my ear.  I cry out instinctively as he wrenches me toward the hatch, pulling on my cuffs so hard that I can practically feel the bruises popping up on my skin.

"Ileana?" I hear my father call out.  "What are you doing to her?  You're hurting her!"

In a pathetic attempt to get away, I use all my weight to break out of the guard's grasp.  Somehow, this manages to work for a few seconds, allowing me to look into my father's eyes.

"Dad," I croak out.  Tears well up in my eyes and it's not because of the pain the cuffs have caused from ripping into my skin.  It's because this look of fear and hurt in my father's eyes is because of me.  It's because I was selfish enough to believe I could play this game of power.  "I'm so sorry, Dad.  I'm so sorry."

Before the guard pulls me away for the last time, I watch as the second Cosmas officer closes in on my father.  There's no time for warning as he lifts a metal piece from his holster.

"A gun," I choke out.  "A GUN–"

A covered hand claps over my mouth, but it doesn't muffle the screams that I feel ripping out of my body.  I watch in paralyzed shock as my father's legs give out underneath him.

***

A/N: HELLO HELLO HELLO!! HOW ARE YOU GUYS DOING?  IT'S BEEN MONTHS!  I can't even begin to explain what's been going on in my life to keep me from this story for so long.  What I can say, however, is I'M BACK! I missed this story and I missed interacting with all of you.  Unfortunately, I still may not be able to maintain a regular writing schedule.  HOWEVER, I will say that I won't give up.  I'll try to write every Wednesday starting in January, but this is a solid "maybe" since I'm starting a new quarter in college.  FIVE CLASSES.  Wish me luck on that.  As for now, I will leave you all with this huge cliffhanger because I'm evil.  I'll be off traveling abroad with no wi-fi, but I would still love to come back and see your lovely comments on this chapter!

What do you guys think, eh?  Is Lia to blame?  What is MECCA??

The lovely edit was made by Sinniona.  Thank you so much! I received these right before I flew off on my senior trip (which happened to be a nightmare, but I'll get to that another time) and it made me so so happy.  If you guys ever want to send me any edits or just talk, shoot me a message on Wattpad or email me at LilianaAraxes on gmail.

A quick shoutout to IleanaLewis and CandaceMJ for being super cool people with super cool stories.  I highly recommend reading The Black Dreamer and Chameleon.  They will rock your socks off.

And lastly I want to give a huge congratulations to Kassandra Tate (famouxx) whose story which you've all probably heard about has reached 1 MILLION VIEWS.  She is so deserving of this and more.  Check out this crazy-talented girl's stories if you haven't already. 

Please let me know what you think of this chapter!  I love you all :-)

Stay lunar,

Liliana Araxes