The entire world resembled a complex structure, like the interior of a gigantic organism, composed of endless corridors, tunnels, glass buildings, and transport tubes resembling blood vessels. Everything functioned smoothly, almost perfectly—as if each element knew its place and knew what to do to keep the whole thing from collapsing. Nika had lived here for a short time. She didn't ask how she got here—she simply accepted what she saw. She was given a simple beige uniform and allowed to move between sectors, cleaning, distributing food containers, serving water, and maintaining order.

The workers in red uniforms were friendly. "Krocytes," they were called. Smiling, helpful, always on the run, as if transporting something urgent. Leukocytes moved in white uniforms—proud, focused, sometimes tired, but full of seriousness. And among them were the T-killers – hunters, unsettling, almost silent, with black jackets, reminiscent of guards from war dreams.

But it wasn't they who caught Nika's attention.

One day, while carrying a container of liquids to one of the power stations, she saw something she hadn't seen before. The light in one of the tunnels went out, a warning siren wailed briefly, and suddenly a leukocyte appeared. He was running. No, hunting. There was fury in his eyes. He caught the bacterium – stinking, in clouds of green foam – and without hesitation, he plunged the knife in. Straight. Silently. Without a word.

Nika froze. There was no emotion in his gaze. But when he lifted his gaze and looked at her...

...a cold chill ran through her. His eyes were intense, deep. As if he knew her already. As if he had seen her before.

The next day, she saw him again. He was standing against one of the walls, food in his hand. He handed her a container of soup without saying a word. From then on, she saw him more and more often. Always nearby. Always watching. Always in his white uniform, sometimes stained with blood, sometimes with a barely-washed battle scar on his collar. He never smiled at anyone. Only at her.

As she walked down the corridor, she felt his gaze. When she turned onto a side street in the organism, he was already there. Like a shadow. Like an echo. When she asked the other leukocytes about him, they merely exchanged glances, and one of them whispered:

"He... is different. He has too much drive. Too much anger. But no one fights better than him. Just... don't let him get close."

But he was already close.

It started innocently – a flower left on her table. Clean towels by the door. Hot tea when she returned tired. Then a hair clip in her favorite color. A message over breakfast: "Stay home today. There's a bacteria outbreak nearby. I don't want you to disappear."

Nika felt stifled. She tried to avoid him, but he found her everywhere. One day, as soon as she left her post, she heard a scream and the clang of steel. Another bacteria was ripped apart in full view of passersby. He stood over her, bleeding from his hand, panting heavily, and then looked at Nika like a beaten dog.

"I had to. She wanted to touch you," he explained quietly, almost tenderly.

"You... are following me?" she asked, panic rising.

"No. I'm protecting you. I just want... you to be with me. Here. Always. Let others die, I... I have to come back to you."

And he came back. Always.

If only for a minute. For a second. With a knife in his hand and blood on his sleeve, with obsession in his eyes and a silent, "Just don't disappear."

Today Nika walked to the corridor called 'hemorrhage' carrying a box of food and water for the blood cells.