Chapter Text
Prologue: The Weight of Gravity
The air on the Rama VIII Bridge tasted of iron and exhaust. Rain, cold and relentless, blurred the world into a smear of grey and neon red. Pond stood on the outer ledge, the wind whipping his sodden clothes against his bruised skin. Behind him, the cacophony of sirens felt like a heartbeat he no longer wanted to hear.
"Pond! Please! Look at me!"
The voice pierced through the rain. It was Phuwin. He was standing behind the police barricade, his face pale, his eyes wide with a terror that Pond had never seen during their quiet nights in their small apartment.
Pond looked back, his vision swimming. He thought of his mother—her tired smile, her sacrifice, the way she had looked at him one last time before ending her life to give him this one, desperate chance to run. He thought of the fire, the smell of burning wood, and the cold eyes of Director Korn as the heavy blow fell upon his head.
I was just a man who loved you, Pond thought, his internal monologue a hollow echo. But in your world, love is a death sentence.
"Pond, don't do it! We can find the truth together!" Phuwin screamed, his voice cracking.
Pond didn't answer. He couldn't. The truth was a luxury for the powerful, and he was currently a ghost in the eyes of the law. He looked at Phuwin one last time—memorizing the curve of his jaw, the desperation in his reach—and then he let go.
Gravity claimed him. The wind roared in his ears, and for a fleeting second, he felt weightless. Then, the black water of the Chao Phraya rose up like a solid wall to swallow him whole.