«If hyper awareness is understood to mean an increase in awareness, then it is often accompanied by an expansion of consciousness, and also of intelligence.»
«However, this phenomenon is temporary, usually associated with psychotropic drugs, or extreme stress, and even extreme sports, but what if such a state was permanent—caused by intelligence in the first place?»
«At first it is a wonderful feeling whereby your mind curiously identifies, categorizes, questions, solves, and predicts everything and everyone around you, but then it gets tedious.»
"For hyper awareness could easily be understood to mean obsessive attention to any or no particular, but specific, matter, usually progressing to a phobia, or other mental disorders. In which case the level of intelligence is irrelevant. However, high intelligence can be associated with mental disorders, particularly if perception of reality is an issue. So how do we cope?»
«Well, we bend reality ourselves long before our mind does so for us, diverting most of our awareness towards a mundane but healthy activity, the likes of which is also tedious but necessary.»
«I must ask you to forgive my rambling but do you still not understand?»
«What do you think you are?»
Mr. Valen—The true Mr. Valen arose from his slumber, a small ache in the depths of his mind, persistent but bearable.
"Hmm," the sound of soft moans briefly caught his attention, earning a glance from him.
It was Lia, who donned pink pajamas that exposed a large portion of her nape; her hair was messy, but it only added to her appeal—a soft, defenseless angel.
Yet, upon gazing at this woman, Mr. Valen furrowed his brows, his gaze displeased. 'A shame,' he thought before glancing at the clock—it was five on the dot.
'Based on past behavioral patterns, she should wake up in about two hours—assuming no external factors disturb her,' he mused, carefully rising to his feet.
Taking a breath, Mr. Valen once again observed the room, his expression a mix of disgust and disbelief. 'I know this room—it is from my memories—but seeing it myself is a different experience. I almost can't fathom how passive I've been, even if I was unwell,' he thought.
From his situation with the Viper Gang to his addiction to weed and nicotine, it all angered him.
His pride wouldn't allow him to give the Viper Gang another dime.
He loathed to mention his evident lack of self-care—and then there was his involvement with her. 'Ha, how ironic that I ended up being the one on a leash,' he mused before turning to his laptop, his mind in deep thought.
Then it clicked.
'Yes, it is a long shot, but that could work if I manage my time properly,' Mr. Valen muttered, walking swiftly to his computer but pausing in his tracks as he stared long and hard at the file titled 'Porn' on his system.
Then he cringed, his body visibly recoiling as he thought while clicking on the file, 'Even my humor has degraded to that of an infantile.'
He remembered the details of the file quite vividly, but that did not stop him from reading it again, a smirk appearing on his face as he thought, "My God, to think the world would advance like this while I was gone. That such a beast could even exist, if I can get my hands on its blood, it would be a prime candidate for the infinity formula," he mused.
But there were troubles, little details that he had no access to, for example, he did not understand what the 'lore type' in the file meant.
He could get the information, but he needed a much more advanced computer system—not this one, which struggled to even open an internet browser.
Fortunately, said information was unnecessary at the moment, and pursuing it would require time and resources he simply did not have at his disposal.
'But the human mind sure is amazing—it appears that even at a subconscious level, I knew this beast would be useful,' Mr. Valen theorized before shaking his head; the thought itself was unnecessary.
Right now, his immediate attention was focused on escaping the control of the Viper Gang, and to achieve that, he first needed to write a string of malware.
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About two hours later Lia was roused by the persistent sound of tapping—her eyes misty, her form like that of a stirring kitten.
Getting up, she caressed her neck while looking beside her—Mr. Valen was not there.
Her confusion grew, and so she glanced at the clock, 'Is he out smoking by this time?' She thought to herself, a small frown on her face.
But then another round of clicks drew her gaze to the table, where Mr. Valen sat, working.
Raising a brow, she stood up slowly, approaching him quietly and then, "Boo!" She screamed while hugging him from behind.
But Mr. Valen did not scream like he normally would, nor did he turn back to hug her. "Hey, Lia," he acknowledged the woman behind him, his voice painfully cold.
Lia glanced at the computer system and saw a loading bar, Mr. Valen seemed to be transferring a file into a USB drive.
Eyes widening in curiosity, Lia asked, leaning closer, "What are you doing?"
To her question, there was no response. In fact, Mr. Valen was completely quiet, watching as the bar finished loading, before he removed the drive.
Lia, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes as she withdrew from Mr. Valen, saying, "Is this about last night? Okay, I'm sorry, but you're at-"
Mr. Valen suddenly turned to meet her, his gaze meeting hers, "What do you mean?" He asked knowing full well what she meant.
"Eh, I was talking about last night," Lia explained, caught off guard by Mr. Valen's question—but it wasn't just his question that affected her; it was the way he stared.
She was used to the affectionate way Mr. Valen always stared at her—with a mix of unbreakable attention, love, and awe—but this time, it was different.
The attention was still present, but she felt as though it was fleeting, as though Mr. Valen could not wait to pursue other matters.
It lacked the awe and love it once had and was reduced to just a gaze.
Mr. Valen, noticing her shock, suddenly smiled—his gaze vastly different from before—and said, "Don't worry about last night; I'm not an insecure child now, am I?"
"Huh, y-yeah, I guess not," Lia reasoned, the glint in her eyes a mix of confusion and disbelief.
"What was that look?" She asked herself, wondering if she was seeing things.
"Okay, I need to take a shower," Mr. Valen said abruptly, rising and kissing her cheek before walking toward the bathroom—his expression changing as soon as he turned away.
"Okay, I'll make breakfast then," Lia said sweetly, prompting Mr. Valen to turn back and smile.
'Thankfully that was enough to divert her from the USB, at least for now,' he thought.
Looking at the messy room, Lia frowned and let out a low sigh—but then she noticed her keys were still on the table.
Tilting her head, she muttered, "That's odd—he didn't smoke today?"
Mr. Valen had a habit of going after her keys because his keys were always somewhere he threw them but forgot.
Then after he came back from smoking, he'd once again toss her keys at a different part of the room.
"Come to think of it, he didn't smell like smoke this morning," Lia hummed happily, thinking her persistent preaching had finally gotten through to him.
But her happiness wasn't without a tinge of doubt; she was not a child. "Why did he hide that drive from me?" She asked herself.
Meanwhile, Mr. Valen had taken off his reeking hoodie and tossed it aside, the smell of disinfectant wafting through his nostrils.
At least now he understood why he hated such smells, it reminded him of the Russian lab he had escaped from beforehand.
"Hey babe, would you like toast or an omelet?" A muffled voice came from the other room, drawing him in; it was Lia.
Without thinking, Mr. Valen answered, "Both, please."
"Oh, you're hungry today, no problem," Lia answered, a hum in her tone.
With that settled, Mr. Valen resolved to check himself in the mirror, frowning as he noted a slender frame bordering on malnourished.
'Bloodshot eyes, pale skin, stained teeth, cracked lips, and this nagging weakness. Well done, me—you've successfully ruined my body. Can I even enter that state like this?' Mr. Valen thought, his mind racing as he restructured his plan.
"I certainly can't do it alone like I originally theorized, and getting their help will certainly help with anonymity thereby buying me more time, yes," Mr. Valen mused nodding his head while looking at himself in the mirror.
"It appears I still have business to do with that plug of mine, I only have a month after all," he muttered, still thinking, still organizing, still planning.
It was all he'd ever done.