Double Twenty

Chapter 27 - (Runaway Train) Soul Asylum

"Suffering is the price we pay for love." - Élisabeth Kübler-Ross

What is suffering? Suffering is the purest testimony of our humanity, an indelible mark left by our losses and unfulfilled desires. This question deserves an answer rooted not in abstraction, but in the tangible and painful experiences of lost souls. At this precise moment, Matthieu, torn between 2024 and 1997, is an embodiment of sadness, hatred, and cold—the same eternal cold that seems to have taken his story with Victoria. The very idea of her betrayal is now unbearable, indecent, and utterly unworthy of her. Desperate. What can he do against beings capable of blowing up a plane just to intimidate him? Sleepless night. The fatigue is starting to make him lose it. In an almost manic gesture, he searches and searches again every corner of his apartment for any trace of their presence: a bug, a camera, anything, a tangible proof that would allow him to accept the awful truth.

Meanwhile, the TV screen continues to spew its stream of images. The soundtracks of sensationalism and feigned contrition resonate in the apartment. Matthieu watches without really seeing. It now seems likely that the tragedy truly happened, which does not stop his reasoning. He dresses quickly: jeans, sweatshirt, sneakers, taking only his keys, ignoring his phone.

At dawn, he is in the streets, driven by the hope of finding a solution to his problem, as if exhausting his body could reveal the truth. His adult mind is tormented by the lyrics of "Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum. "Seems like I should be getting somewhere,".

But where? His frantic race is interrupted only by his cries, his tears, his dry heaves. When he collapses, exhausted, out of strength, lying in a fetal position on the doorstep of a building, a black sedan stops next to him. Omer and his mother get out to help him up, his father is at the wheel, his gaze filled with contempt.

It cannot be a coincidence; rather than using force on him, they first seek to break him, body and soul. Playing the good sport, Matthieu decides to accept his defeat, without expressing either gratitude or rejection. He lets himself be taken away, resigned, but his mind is already calculating. "To uncover the truth behind this orchestration, I must observe, learn." His adult brain makes a silent promise that if this is indeed a manipulation (why still doubt?), the Chrono Liberators or whatever their name, will not remain in the shadows for long. He braces himself with fierce determination to uncover the hidden truth behind appearances.

Meanwhile in Cestas, Julien sits down for the ritualistic breakfast with his parents. The front page of the morning newspaper, which his father peruses every day, is entirely devoted to a plane crash that occurred the day before. He gets up to pour himself a coffee, still plagued by an insidious feeling of exhaustion and inner turmoil. He has never been passionate about such topics, but he is surprised to have no memory of this accident. Over his father's shoulder, he tries to find some elements that might refresh his memory... "Chrono Liberators!" he points to the headline that names them as the instigators of the explosion. Could this be the source of his recent nightmares? His father coughs softly, a discreet but clear signal to get his attention. "Come, we need to talk." "What about your work?" Julien is worried. "I'll say I'm not feeling well. It will be the first time in ten years." This declaration, laden with unexpected gravity, marks the importance of their imminent discussion. They walk outside, leaving a perplexed Béa behind. "Where are you going?" she calls after them. "We're going for a walk," Alejandro has no choice but to give this evasive answer, pushing Julien towards the door.

"This is the best one," exclaims Béatrice aloud, still holding the dishcloth. Their walk is deliberate, each step measured under the weight of the imminent dialogue. "Julien, you know I am a man of facts. But recently, I've noticed a change in you. Your manner, your words, your look... all signal a profound upheaval. I'm not a fan of the supernatural or ramblings. I've learned to know you, every day since your birth. I don't expect a precise explanation from you. At best, you would lie to me and at worst, you would tell me something I could not accept and yet..." Julien listens attentively to every word his father says, betraying no emotion, adding a layer of tension between them.

"There may be more between you and this event than simple coincidences." His father's tone is low, almost conspiratorial, suggesting hidden depths. Julien, troubled but curious, senses the importance of his words. His father continues, "And if the possibilities of our existence are broader than we perceive?" Despite all the fatigue and the weight of an age that does not match his body, his eyes cannot lie. He thinks for a moment, looks at his father, "If you had the chance to be 20 again, would you do it?"

Alejandro smiles, "I am satisfied with my life today, and my youth was not very exciting. However, I think, purely hypothetically, that this choice would be conditioned either by the frustration of not achieving a desired future or by the ardent desire to relive a blessed period of one's life. And still hypothetically, someone who relives a past that ends up being worse than their future... would have the power to sow terror and chaos in their hands. You must leave for Paris immediately to find your friend and act for the good of all. In the meantime, I'll get the bread. Go home and prepare for your trip." They part warmly, Julien carrying a mix of determination and doubt.

A few meters away, a black Peugeot 605 flashes its lights three times. Alejandro glances around before getting into the back. A man in his fifties with a thick mustache and piercing eyes framed by round, gold-rimmed glasses is seated on the left side of the backseat. The driver, a tall blond with short hair wearing a New York Yankees starter jacket, gets out of the vehicle, lights a cigarette, and stays nearby, keeping an eye on the quiet residential streets.

The mustached man waits for Alejandro to close the door. "What do you think, Al?" he asks abruptly. "Sir, regarding the first subject, everything seems under control. As for the second, I can form an idea but certainly not a precise opinion. I still lack data," Alejandro responds calmly, without a nod, his voice controlled and measured. The man with the glasses straightens up to assert his superiority. "A team was dispatched to the scene as soon as our suspicions were confirmed, not to mention our field agent who is still present." "But the plane, was it necessary?" Alejandro asks curiously. "You had the remarkable intuition to alert us so quickly and to search your son's room. If this is what we think, and all signs point to it, then France can ensure a dominant position in the world, justifying some efforts and sacrifices." Alejandro remains impassive. Sundial entrusted him with this double agent mission because of this ability. Nevertheless, deep inside, he is determined to do everything in his power to protect his son. Firm in his principles, he is convinced of acting for a just cause. The rest is not his concern.