Chapter 13 #2
“If you’re the one doing the killing, I might.”
Anticipating James’s reaction, the silver haze shot out again, restraining him before he could so much as twitch.
“Are we going to start talking like adults, or not?” Stephen’s patience was thinning fast.
My heart pounded, each beat hammering in my chest, a relentless reminder of how little I actually understood.
I drew in a shaky breath, forcing my rage down and trying to focus on what mattered, then turned to Stephen. “So the Radicals were never after me? All this time—it was you?”
My throat constricted, and my eyes burned with tears, as the betrayal sank deep—like a blade turning slow and cruel in my gut.
He nodded slowly, his face etched with pain and regret.
“Why?” James repeated, with his teeth clenched. His fists curled at his sides, every muscle in his body wound like a coiled wire, ready to snap. “What possible reason would you have—unless you’re a Radical like him?” He jerked his chin toward Caden.
“I am not a Radical, James. Neither is Caden,” he said evenly, the smallest sliver of impatience shining through. “He’s Crown’s First Offensive, just like he told you. He’s never lied about anything.”
“That’s not true,” I whispered. My hands were trembling but I forced the words out. “He told me his name was Logan Stark and told me he was First Offensive of Area 4.”
Caden raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.
Staring him down, I spat harshly, “I have an impeccable memory,” though I wasn’t even sure why I was bothering to engage with him.
“So it would seem. Not sure it does you any good if all you remember are the lies,” Caden retorted with a snicker. “Then again, with all the lies your boyfriend fed you, I’m not surprised you do.”
“Lies?” The words felt foreign, hollow. “What lies?”
I snapped my head toward James, searching his face—my eyes pleading, begging him not to have betrayed me as well.
“Yes, James,” Caden pressed, his words laced with venom. “What lies did you tell Emma?”
James’s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You don’t speak her name if you want to keep that tongue of yours intact.”
“Boys!” Stephen interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, looking every bit the weary father trying to manage a heated argument between sons.
“James?” I squeaked, hating how scared and small I sounded. Surely, he wasn’t involved in this madness. I held his gaze, hoping for him to deny any connection to this insanity.
James turned to me, his expression a mix of remorse and frustration. “I never knew what they were up to with you. I’m not part of this!” He sounded strained, like he was desperately trying to hold onto whatever shred of innocence he had left.
“You didn’t know because you wouldn’t have been able to do what needed to be done,” Caden snapped, his temper finally flaring. “You got attached to her, and Stephen needed me to step in.”
He inhaled sharply. “I did what needed to be done, and you can cower behind it all you want, but you’re still part of this, you asshole.”
Caden’s voice dripped with disdain before he reined it in, slipping his mask of easy, practiced charm back into place—cool, detached, unreadable.
The true dark prince of deception.
My focus snapped back to James.
I held my breath, waiting—for him to deny it, to push back, to fight. To lash out at Caden, furious at the accusation. But he did none of those things.
Instead, he swallowed hard, and terror began to creep into the corners of my mind. My pulse thundered, as my reality started closing in. As if the ground beneath me was shifting.
“What does he mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Please, tell me something I can handle.
Everyone fell silent, leaving the room taut with unspoken words. Then Stephen began to speak, his tone softer, almost reflective.
“Emma, there’s a lot you don’t know. And for you to understand what we did, what we all did, we need to tell you a long story.”
I hadn’t missed his emphasis on the word “all.”
“I’ve got time,” I replied softly, while fear pulsed through me, a razor’s edge against my ribs. Whatever truth was about to surface, I somehow knew—it would tear my world apart.
He took a deep beath. “Do you know when the concept of a Great Exposure first came about?”
I nodded quickly. “You had the idea sixteen years ago.”
Stephen rubbed his mouth thoughtfully. “That’s not entirely accurate. The concept of a global reveal was conceived long before I was even involved. But the idea of a consensus, a unified approach before any of it would take place—yes, such was my initiative.”
He paused, searching for the right words.
“So you might understand why I feel responsible?” he continued, his question tinged with regret.
“Stop justifying what you did and get to it,” Caden snapped, clearly as impatient as me.
“I don’t understand,” I said warily, trying to grasp the shifting dynamics. “I thought your goal was to achieve a global consensus before exposing ourselves to humans?”
He dipped his head, solemn and deliberate.
"For thirteen years, I did everything in my power to prevent war—to make sure everyone was in agreement before exposing ourselves. To make sure we wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes that once led to the battle of ’59.
For thirteen years, it was my goal, yes. ”
I swallowed hard, anxiety creeping into my voice. “Not anymore?”
Stephen shook his head slowly. “No.”
“So you’re not Radicals,” I said, pointing at him and Caden, “but you’re against the Great Exposure?”
“Yes,” Caden replied, his posture firm with conviction. “As I said, we’re Resistants. We fight against the Radicals, but we’re also fighting the Great Exposure. And so is James.”
I turned my head quickly toward James, my heart pounding in my chest. “You are?” I whispered, the question barely escaping my lips, thick with disbelief.
James’s jaw clenched, before he gave me a curt nod. Really? A fucking nod?
“Why?” I pressed, my tone harsher.
But he didn’t bother replying.
“Please, tell me what this is all about?” I pleaded, shaking despite my efforts to remain in control. My body was reacting with a panicked unease to the flood of revelations.
Our resident Specialist sighed deeply, a flicker of defeat in his eyes. “I’ll do you one better and show you.”
“Show me?” I asked, confusion knitting my brows together.
“Have you ever heard of a blue portal?” he asked, and his eyes betrayed a hint of anxiety.
I searched my memory. I remembered James mentioning it during our first class, and how the seven-year-olds had laughed at the very idea. “It’s designed only for Specialists, right? To visit the past?”
Stephen nodded. “Yes, in theory, that’s its sole purpose.”
A nervous flutter began in my stomach. “In theory?”
James remained eerily silent; his eyes locked on his mentor.
“About three years ago, I discovered a glitch in the navigational tool,” Stephen continued, his voice steady but laced with something akin to guilt. “And I used it…to visit the future.”
My jaw dropped in shock. What?
James shifted uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding my gaze.
“What did you see?”
There was something in the stillness around him I couldn’t quite name—hope? Fear? “I’ll show you, if you’re willing to follow me through it.”
I nodded without hesitation, the curiosity and dread gnawing at me too strong to resist. Rising to my feet, I glanced at James, then Caden, who silently stood as well.
With a deliberate motion, our Specialist extended his hand, manifested his silver haze, and with a single flick of his wrist, a portal shimmered into existence. It swirled before us, a mesmerizing vortex of brilliant cerulean blue, pulsing with an ethereal light.
The colors danced within its depths, like the surface of a tranquil ocean under a clear sky, reflecting every imaginable shade of blue.
I stood frozen for a moment, mesmerized by the portal’s beauty, but my thoughts raced with questions. What could Stephen have seen that was so important, so dire, he felt resorting to abduction and torture was justified?
I glanced at James, and I studied the way tension clung to him like a second skin—the rigid line of his spine, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, the storm gathered in his eyes which refused to meet mine.
There was guilt there, unmistakable and unspoken, and beneath it, something quieter—something like sorrow.
He had been part of this—whatever it was, whatever awful truth had begun to surface—and this knowledge sank into me like a slow, cold tide, numbing everything it touched. His silence wasn’t denial. It was admission. It was betrayal.
But even as I stood there, poised on the edge of hurt and revelation, I knew I would hear him out.
More than anything, I wanted him to speak—and when he did, I wanted his words to carry enough weight, enough truth, to shift the balance back toward anything I could live with.
I wanted him to give me a reason to forgive him. I wanted to be able to forgive him.
Without a word, we stepped forward, one by one, crossing the threshold into the shimmering blue. The portal’s energy hummed around us, soft yet powerful. As I passed through, the air shifted, a strange sensation of weightlessness taking hold, like being suspended between two worlds.
The light enveloped us, bright but not blinding, and for a split second, it seemed as though time itself had paused—caught in the space between moments. My heart raced, the unknown stretching out ahead of us, but there was no turning back.
We were already on the other side.