Chapter 79

The Fraying Threads of Trust

Lara sat in silence, the weight of her thoughts far heavier than the argument unfolding before her. Caleb's sharp accusations and Margot's heated defenses echoed off the cracked walls of the abandoned café, their voices reverberating like distant thunder in her ears. But Lara wasn't listening—not entirely.

Her mind was elsewhere, consumed by the fragmented truths that had surfaced in the hospital. These weren't just accidental slips or trivial revelations. They were cracks—deep, jagged cracks—that threatened to collapse everything they had built together.

She had once trusted the group completely. Elias, with his unwavering strength and unshakable calm, had been her anchor in this chaos. Margot, despite her sharp edges, had always seemed dependable. Roman, Jack, Caleb—they were all flawed but reliable in their own way.

But now… now that trust felt like sand slipping through her fingers.

The hospital had revealed too much, and yet, it felt like she still knew nothing. Secrets hung thick in the air like a suffocating fog, and Lara had seen enough to know that each member of their group was carrying something they weren't sharing.

Margot had been at the center of it all, her past unraveling in painful detail as they ventured deeper into the hospital. The truth about her mother, Elene, was horrifying enough, but there was something else—something Margot wasn't saying.

Lara's mind returned to the moments when Margot had clung to Elias. It wasn't jealousy—not exactly. But the way Margot had panicked when Elias collapsed, the way she had cupped his face and whispered his name with such desperation—it stirred something uneasy in Lara's chest.

Even now, as Margot argued with Caleb, Lara could feel the sharpness of her gaze, the way Margot's eyes flicked to her with something that looked an awful lot like resentment.

It wasn't just Margot, though.

Elias… he was the one Lara couldn't stop thinking about.

She had trusted him more than anyone else. He had been her strength, her guide, her partner in this nightmare. But now, doubt gnawed at her, each revelation from the hospital pulling at loose threads in the fabric of her trust.

Why was Elias so weak?

This wasn't the same man who had fought the Guardian for three days and survived. This wasn't the same Elias who had faced the Architect with an almost unnerving calm. At the hospital, she had seen him falter, seen him bleed and collapse in a way that didn't make sense.

And then there was the Architect. The way he had looked at Elias, the hesitation in his actions—it didn't sit right with her. The Architect had every opportunity to kill Elias, to destroy him, but he hadn't.

Why?

Elias had stood there, battered and broken, and yet, he had met the Architect's gaze with an expression that was almost… knowing. It was as if there was an unspoken understanding between them, a silent acknowledgment that Lara couldn't begin to decipher.

Lara's thoughts drifted back to her own memories—the fragments that had surfaced in the portal. The photograph. The rooftop. The park.

She couldn't shake the image of Elias appearing in her memory, his presence there as vivid as the blood on her hands now. Why had he been there? Why had he been so calm, so composed, even as chaos unfolded around them?

The memory was too brief, too carefully constructed. It felt like someone had tampered with it, like pieces of it had been plucked away and hidden from her.

Who had done it? And why?

The whispers in her memory haunted her still: "The city is a fractured place, a mirror between two worlds… Trust no one."

Trust no one.

She clutched the silver key tighter, its faint glow casting long, eerie shadows on the café walls.

And then there was the Architect himself.

Lara replayed every interaction they had with him in her mind, trying to piece together a puzzle that refused to fit.

Why had the Architect hesitated with Elias? Why had heAnchor been so disappointed in Andy and Lyn, as if they had failed to carry out a plan that had been meticulously crafted?

The look of disdain he had given them before killing them—it wasn't just anger. It was frustration. Someone had interfered with his plans, and Lara couldn't shake the feeling that Elias knew more about it than he was letting on.

Tobias's words echoed in her mind, his refusal to side with them, his cryptic warnings about Lyn. Tobias had known something. And so had Lyn.

Lyn, who had led them into the hospital. Lyn, who had played the role of their guide, their ally, only to betray them.

Had she been working alone? Or had someone else been pulling her strings?

Lara's chest tightened as the weight of her suspicions pressed down on her. She looked at the group around her—Caleb, Roman, Jack, Margot. Each of them carried their own scars, their own secrets.

And then there was Elias, lying unconscious and vulnerable, his once-imposing presence reduced to a fragile shell.

She wanted to believe in him. She wanted to trust him. But the doubts wouldn't stop.

Was Elias hiding something? Was Margot?

Had the Architect manipulated all of them?

The argument between Caleb and Margot grew louder, but Lara barely registered it. She felt disconnected from them, like an observer watching from a distance.

The group was fracturing, their bonds eroding under the weight of everything they had endured.

Lara thought of the Anchor's parting words: "Prepare yourselves… none of you will leave alive."

For the first time, she felt the weight of those words. Not because of the Anchor himself, but because of the cracks within their own group.

If they couldn't trust each other, they were already doomed.

The café felt colder now, the faint glow of their torches doing little to warm the atmosphere. Outside, the city groaned and shifted, its malevolent presence ever-watchful.

Lara sat back against the wall, her mind a whirlwind of questions with no answers. She looked at Elias, his pale face illuminated by the faint glow of the silver key in her hand.

She wanted to believe in him.

But deep down, she knew that belief alone wouldn't be enough.