CHAPTER 288: BEGIN...

The silence that followed was heavier than the steel door sealing us in. It was the quiet before the storm, the held breath before the avalanche. My words, those two simple syllables, hung in the sterile air, not a suggestion but a decree. The universe had shifted on its axis.

Now, it was time for dismantling.

Caden groaned on the floor, spitting a mouthful of blood and a shattered tooth onto the polished concrete. His bravado had evaporated, replaced by a dazed, animal fear. Clara’s screams had dissolved into choked, silent sobs, her body held rigid between the two guards.

"Let’s begin," I repeated, my voice slicing through the tension like a scalpel.

My words had barely settled in the air before two steel trays were rolled forward—one placed in front of Clara, the other in front of Caden.

Each tray held two small pills.

One bright red.

One muted blue.

The fluorescent lights above reflected off the cold, metallic surface of the trays, casting an eerie glow on the scene unfolding before me.

Clara’s breath came in shallow, erratic bursts as she stared at the pills, her tear-streaked face flickering between terror and confusion. "W-What is this?" she whispered. "Adrien... please."

Caden spat blood onto the floor and laughed again, though it was weaker now, wavering. "Oh, this is rich. What are you playing at now?"

I uncrossed my legs slowly.

"Here’s what we’ll do," I said quietly, almost kindly.

Clara flinched at the softness of my tone.

Caden narrowed his eyes.

I gestured lazily at the tray.

"One of these pills gives you a quick death." I let the words settle.

"And the other," my mouth curled, "sets you free."

Lie.

But lies were useful tools.

Clara sucked in a sharp breath.

Caden scoffed. "Bullshit."

I ignored him.

"You will each choose," I continued. "But listen carefully—because I will not repeat myself."

I turned my head slowly to Clara first.

"If you pick the correct color, you’re the one who leaves this room alive. You escape everything waiting for you."

My eyes flicked to Caden.

"And the other stays."

Caden tensed.

I shifted back to Clara. "But if you pick wrong... he still has a chance to pick. Do you understand?"

Clara nodded through tears.

"And the same rules apply to him," I added. "Except for one twist."

Their attention sharpened.

I smiled.

"The right color is not repeated twice."

Clara collapsed into a fresh wave of sobbing.

"Adrien—please—please don’t do this—"

"Quiet."

She swallowed the rest of her words.

I pointed lazily at the trays.

"Red. Or blue."

Clara’s gaze darted between the two vibrant pills, then back to my impassive face, her terror a tangible thing in the sterile air. Her breath hitched, ragged and shallow. "Adrien, please! I don’t understand—what are you saying?"

Caden, surprisingly can still talk. His eyes, though still holding a flicker of pain from Gray’s strike, were calculating. "Don’t play your childish games, Adrien. What is this, some twisted version of Russian roulette?" He sneered, but his posture was unnaturally rigid.

Gray moved immediately.

CRACK.

Gray’s fist connected with Caden’s jaw again, snapping his head sideways before his body crumpled against the restraints. Blood dripped from his split lip, splattering onto the polished concrete.

"Speak when spoken to," Gray muttered, flexing his knuckles.

I didn’t react. My gaze stayed fixed on Clara, watching the way her fingers trembled as she tried to raise them up— she stared at the tray, then at me, as if she could read the truth in my expression.

There was no truth.

Only what I wanted her to believe.

Her trembling fingers hovered between the pills—red, then blue, then red again.

She swallowed.

Finally, with a small, broken cry, she picked blue.

She didn’t swallow it—she simply held it in her palm, looking at me for approval like a kicked dog.

"Good," I said softly.

She let out a sob of relief.

Caden laughed.

A jagged, humorless sound. I guess the blow’s still hasn’t stopped his mouth from moving.

"You’re insane," he spat. "But fine. Let’s play."

He stared straight into my eyes, grinning like a martyr finally getting his spotlight.

"Red," he said, plucking it off the tray with his teeth. "I choose red."

I smiled back at him.

Slow. Precise. I saw the exact moment doubt flickered in his eyes.

Perfect.

I leaned back, crossing my arms as the guards moved in.

"Good," I said.

My voice was calm.

Gentle.

Then:

"You both chose."

Their chests rose and fell too fast.

I rose from my seat.

"You both lose."

Confusion flashed across their faces—

Until understanding hit.

None of the pills were right.

None of them ever had been.

Clara froze.

Caden’s smile dropped.

"You lied—" Clara shrieked.

"You’re lying—" Caden snarled.

I tilted my head.

"No. I offered a choice. You made one."

I let the moment stretch, their panic rolling off them like heat.

"And now you face the consequences."

They began screaming at the same time.

Clara begging.

Caden cursing.

I didn’t move.

Noise. Too much noise.

At my signal, restraints snapped out from the floor and ceiling, metal cuffs locking around their wrists, ankles, and torsos. Hydraulic locks engaged with a hiss, pinning them upright in the reinforced chairs waiting behind them.

They fought like animals.

It didn’t matter.

The straps held.

Clara’s voice rose to a hysterical pitch.

"ADRIEN, PLEASE—PLEASE—PLEASE—I PICKED BLUE—YOU SAID—YOU SAID—"

Caden thrashed, veins bulging.

"You fucking coward! Fight me like a man! Kill me yourself—!"

Caden’s voice cracked as the restraints tightened, his muscles straining against the unyielding metal. His defiance was a dying ember, but he clung to it like a lifeline, spitting curses between ragged breaths.

Clara, on the other hand, had devolved into something broken. Tears streamed down her face, her body convulsing against the straps as she repeated the same desperate plea like a prayer—"You said, you said, you said—"

My voice came out low, final, steady enough to freeze the room.

"Now," I said softly, "you both die slowly."

Clara sobbed so hard she choked.

Caden went silent for the first time in his life.

I nodded once.

"Begin."