Fate Line

Chapter 8

Ellian crouched behind the window corner, barely breathing. Through a small gap in the curtain, the voices outside were clear—the workers were discussing the plan.

"So, the basement will be right here," one of them said, tapping something on a tablet.

"Yeah, right under the central part of the house. The old blueprint doesn't allow access, we'll have to dig a new foundation."

"The client said everything must be strictly underground. Minimal noise."

"And no one should realize it's a lab…"

Ellian froze.

He couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

The word "lab" came out clearly.

And then the second one:

"…Nael doesn't want anyone snooping around. It has to be clean. He'll come in a couple of weeks."

Nael.

A chill ran down Ellian's spine.

"This… this can't be… How?!"

He had chosen these 17 locations at random, based on his own reasoning.

He couldn't have guessed it on only his second attempt.

It felt like an impossible coincidence. Or… as if something was guiding him.

He swallowed hard. Inside, everything trembled.

But this was his chance. He had found the lab—or at least, the place where it was just now being built.

A door creaked downstairs.

The workers entered the house.

Ellian backed away from the window, scanning for a place to hide. But almost all the rooms were empty. No furniture, no closets, not even cardboard boxes—nothing he could use as cover.

He made a quick decision:

If they went into the hall—he'd slip into the kitchen and hide behind the corner.

If they went upstairs—he'd move silently from room to room, avoiding detection.

The footsteps began climbing the stairs.

They were coming up. Right toward him.

Ellian held his breath, stepping back into the shadows of a side room, pressing his body against the wall.

His heart pounded so loud he thought it might burst from his chest.

"I need to see more… I need to understand what they're planning…"

But the most important thing—he couldn't get caught.

The steps grew louder—heavy, echoing through the empty second floor. Ellian hid in one of the side rooms, nearly plastered to the wall. He barely breathed. His heartbeat thudded violently, almost deafening.

But he got lucky.

The workers passed by, just surveying the rooms, discussing which walls to remove, where to reinforce, where to make a descent. One of them even joked:

"Imagine if someone was hiding here. With a camera, haha."

Ellian clenched his teeth.

But they didn't notice him.

A few minutes later, they went back downstairs. Voices again, papers rustling, the shuffle of a tablet. Ellian crept closer to the stairs and stopped in the shadows to listen.

"So the entrance will be here," one of them said. "A descent under the foundation. Completely hidden, reinforced concrete."

"Mr. Nael asked for maximum discretion."

"Man's a total paranoid. Says if anyone finds out—we'll be executed. Ha! Can you imagine?"

They laughed.

"He seriously believes someone's after him. Like he's discovered some cosmic secret."

"What if he has?" another added with a smirk. "Look how tightly he's guarding the project."

Ellian froze.

"They… don't believe him. They think he's joking. But what if he's not?"

If Nael found out Ellian had been here—found out what he knew…

What would happen then?

And these builders—they were just ordinary men. They had no idea what they were getting into.

They thought it was just some eccentric scientist and a weird underground lab. But Ellian felt—it went much deeper than that.

A few minutes later, everything went quiet. The workers left the house, gathered their tablets, blueprints, got into their white van and drove off.

Only once the engine sound completely faded did Ellian finally exhale.

He stepped out of his hiding place, quickly went downstairs, left the house and walked briskly toward the nearest bus stop. He didn't look back. He didn't slow down. He had to get out.

By the time he returned home, the sun was already dipping toward the horizon. On the porch bench sat Iris, scrolling through her phone, deep in thought.

When she saw him, she looked up:

"Ellian? Where were you? I was looking for you."

He hesitated for a second, trying not to reveal how shaken he was.

"Just… went for a walk. I'm really tired now."

And without waiting for a response, he walked past her and went upstairs to his room.

There, he dropped his backpack, opened his laptop, turned on the screen.

Now he knew.

The lab was real.

And he knew where it was.

When Ellian locked the door behind him, he didn't waste a second. He laid out the map, the printouts, opened his laptop, and began planning.

He knew the lab's exact location—a house on the city's outskirts, which from the outside looked like an ordinary abandoned building. But now it wasn't just an empty structure—it was becoming an underground lab, and the workers had already started.

Ellian understood:

This was just the beginning.

Soon, there would be equipment, machines, security. Maybe even Nael himself.

He had to hurry. While the site was still unguarded. While there was still a chance.

He wrote down a plan:

• No one in the house must know.

He didn't want to involve Iris, Cain, or Silas—this was his business. His choice. His risk.

• Surveillance of the workers.

On the first day, he'd go there at the same time they would be inside. Not to get caught—but to see, memorize, understand where the basement entrance would be.

Where exactly they would dig. Where the doors would be. Where the hidden entrance might go.

• After that—wait until they left, then return and explore the site.

He noted the likely arrival time, based on the previous visit:

Roughly between 14:00 and 16:30.

The next day, at the same time, he'd already be nearby—with binoculars, hidden in the shadows, watching.

He pulled a small pair of binoculars, a notebook, and a flashlight from the drawer and packed them into a separate bag.

Tomorrow, he'd be ready.

He looked out the window. Dusk was already falling.

Ellian took a deep breath and whispered to himself:

"Make no mistakes. Not one. One chance."

Night fell.

A gentle breeze stirred the treetops beyond the fence.

Ellian quietly stepped out of the house, trying not to draw attention. The air was cool, fresh. Moonlight filtered through clouds, and the city seemed quiet, sleepy, almost unreal in its peace.

He walked along the street, watching warm lights glow in strangers' windows, hearing children laugh in the distance, the faint roll of bicycle wheels.

Ordinary life.

"Maybe one of the last," he whispered to himself, looking at the sky.

Inside, everything clenched.

He thought:

"These next two weeks could be the twilight of my life.

Everything could go wrong.

If I'm seen… they could arrest me.

And if Nael finds out…"

He didn't finish the thought.

Too terrifying.

He shook off the fear, composed himself, looked once more at the quiet, sleeping city—and returned home.

It was past midnight.

He entered the house, took off his shoes, and went upstairs without touching the food. A heavy weight pressed in his chest.

On the stairs, he ran into Linnea. She was in pajamas, holding a mug of tea, looking at him with concern.

"Ellian," she said softly. "Why aren't you eating lately? Why are you always out? Did something happen?"

He stopped, lowered his gaze. For a moment, he considered telling her the truth—or part of it.

But he knew: he couldn't.

"I'm just… getting to know the city," he said calmly. "Trying to understand how things work here. Maybe find a part-time job. I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden…" she began, but he cut her off:

"No. I want to do this. I'm curious."

He turned away abruptly.

"Good night."

And went to his room without waiting for a reply.

Linnea stood on the stairs.

She watched him for a few seconds.

Then sighed quietly and went to her room.

Ellian locked his door. Sat on the bed. Stared into the darkness for a long moment.

Tomorrow it would begin.

The second visit to the house. The surveillance.

The search for the underground lab's entrance.

He lay on the bed, still fully dressed, and stared at the ceiling.

What awaited him tomorrow?

He didn't know.

But he couldn't stop now.

Morning came.

Light pierced through the curtains and into his eyes, and Ellian slowly opened them. For a while he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, then rubbed his face and muttered:

"Yesterday was a hard day… but there's no turning back. If I started—then I have to finish."

He got up, went to the bathroom, washed his face, got ready quickly. The reflection in the mirror showed a tired, tense face. He'd barely slept. But now was the time to act.

When he came downstairs, everyone was already at the table.

Laughter. Chatter. A normal morning.

But the moment he appeared, the conversation died down.

Iris turned to him, squinting:

"Hey, Ellian, what's up with you? Lately you've been… I don't know… disappearing a lot. Not eating, not talking to anyone."

He paused for a moment but quickly responded, keeping his voice steady:

"It's nothing. Just… walking around the city, looking for work. Don't want to sit around doing nothing."

He approached the table, sat down, pretending everything was fine. Picked up a plate, started eating.

Silence.

They exchanged glances, but said nothing.

After a few minutes, Cain said without looking away from him:

"Ellian, something is definitely wrong. You're not acting like yourself."

Ellian met his gaze for a second, then almost smiled and said:

"No, really, I'm fine."

But his voice lacked energy. Lacked conviction.

Cain frowned but didn't press. He just nodded and turned back to his plate.

But Ellian could feel it—he noticed. He was starting to suspect.

Time was running out.

He had to leave before anyone started asking more questions.

After everyone finished eating, the plates remained on the table. Ellian was already heading to his room when Silas called out:

"Hey, Ellian. You know it's your turn to wash the dishes today, right?"

Ellian froze.

Everything inside him clenched—he was running out of time, he needed to leave, or he'd miss the workers. But skipping his chore would raise suspicion.

He turned sharply:

"Yeah, yeah, leave them—I'll be right back. Just grabbing something from my room."

Silas nodded, smirking:

"Don't forget."

Ellian ran up the stairs, one thought in his head:

"Make it. Just make it."

He quickly threw the binoculars, notebook, watch, and map into his backpack, put on his jacket, and was just about to slip out when he ran into Linnea in the hallway.

"Ellian?" she asked, surprised. "You seem like you're in a hurry."

He hesitated for a second but replied calmly:

"Yeah, that's right. Just doing dishes real quick—then heading out."

She looked at him closely, then suddenly said gently:

"Let me do the dishes. You go."

He could hardly believe it.

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm. But you owe me something delicious in return," she winked.

For the first time that morning, Ellian smiled genuinely, thanked her briefly, and almost ran out the door.

The bus stop was three blocks away. He ran almost nonstop. His heart pounded, his legs were weak, but he didn't slow down.

A few minutes later, the bus arrived.

He jumped inside, pulled out the map, checked the time: 13:02.

He was right on schedule. Almost perfect.

As soon as he reached the right street, he ducked behind the garages—right into the spot he'd marked the day before.

An old concrete wall gave good cover. He pulled out the binoculars, opened his notebook, and froze, staring at the same house.

Inside him, everything trembled.

He waited.

Waited for them to come.

Waited to see where the first digging would begin.

Where the entrance to the basement would be.

Where he could get in.