CHAPTER 63

The Weight of Betrayal

Pain hit first. A deep, searing ache inside my skull as the machine powered up again, dragging me under.

I clenched my jaw, bracing against the flood of memories crashing over me. The past unfurled in jagged flashes—half-formed, too fast, too sharp. I couldn't hold onto them, couldn't control what came next.

Then—clarity.

I saw myself in a high-rise office, staring out at a city skyline bathed in artificial light. Julian stood beside me, his reflection cold and sharp in the window's glass.

"We don't start wars, Nathan. We prevent them."

His voice was smooth, persuasive.

"By controlling the chaos?" I asked. My own voice, distant yet familiar, laced with something I couldn't quite place.

Julian's lips curled into something resembling a smile. "Someone has to. You think the world functions on its own? That nations just… behave?" He turned, clasping my shoulder. "No, my friend. People need order. They need a guiding hand."

I swallowed hard as I watched my past self nod.

Nausea coiled inside me.

The scene shifted. A war zone. Fires burned in the distance. Smoke choked the air. The screams of civilians rang in my ears.

I stood among the wreckage, a rifle in hand, watching as soldiers moved through the ruins. I recognized the insignia. Not military. Not government. The Oath's private force.

I remembered now.

A coup. One we had orchestrated. A leader removed, a country destabilized.

All in the name of control.

I felt bile rise in my throat as I saw myself turn away from the carnage, walking past bodies as if they were nothing. As if I hadn't played a part in this.

"You knew," I muttered, my hands balling into fists. "You saw what they were doing."

The past me hesitated. I saw the flicker of doubt in my eyes. But I didn't fight.

I ran.

Another wave hit me, and the scene shifted again.

A dimly lit room. An underground bunker. Papers strewn across the table.

I sat alone, staring at documents that spelled out The Oath's reach—how they controlled financial markets, how they installed leaders, how they assassinated threats before the world even knew they existed.

I had proof. Evidence.

I could've exposed them. I could've burned it all down.

Instead…

I exhaled shakily, my body trembling as the last memory surfaced.

"I want out," I heard myself say.

Not to the Resistance. Not to the press.

To them.

To Julian.

He sat across from me, perfectly calm, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"And where exactly would you go?" he asked, amusement flickering across his face.

I swallowed. "I don't care. I just… I can't do this anymore."

Julian tilted his head, considering me. Then he sighed, almost like he was disappointed.

"You were one of the best, Nathan. A shame, really."

He gestured, and two guards stepped forward. I tensed, expecting a bullet to the skull, but instead—

"You don't have to kill me," I blurted out.

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

"Excuse me?" Julian raised a brow.

My breathing was ragged, desperation clawing its way into my voice. "You can make me forget. You have the tech. The neural wipes. Just… just erase it."

Julian watched me, his expression unreadable.

Then, he smiled.

"Now that… that is interesting."

I sucked in a breath as the memory shattered, and the present rushed back in.

The machine shut down.

I gasped, my body jerking against the restraints as my mind realigned with reality. My vision swam, sweat dripping from my temples.

Riley was there, hands gripping my shoulders. "Nathan? Talk to me!"

I couldn't. Not yet. My head throbbed, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I begged them to erase me.

Not because I was a victim. Not because I was framed.

Because I was a coward.

The realization hollowed me out from the inside.

Riley shook me. "Nathan, what did you see?"

I let out a shaky breath. My hands trembled as I reached up, rubbing them over my face.

"I ran," I whispered. "I had proof of what The Oath was doing. And I ran."

Riley's eyes darkened. "What do you mean, you ran?"

I looked at her, my stomach twisting.

"I had a choice," I said, voice hoarse. "To fight them. To expose them. And instead, I begged Julian to wipe my mind."

Riley stiffened. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't speak.

I could see it—the way the air shifted around her. The way something inside her cracked, just a little.

Disbelief. Disappointment.

She had fought for me. She had trusted me. And now she knew the truth.

I clenched my jaw. "Say it."

Her throat bobbed. "Say what?"

"Say what you're thinking." I exhaled, my hands curling into fists. "That I don't deserve this second chance. That I should've stayed in the dark."

Her gaze hardened. "You think I'd let you off that easy?"

I blinked.

Riley stepped closer, her voice quiet but sharp. "You ran. You made a choice. A terrible one. But you know what I see right now?"

I swallowed. "What?"

She jabbed a finger into my chest. "You. Standing here. Not running."

I let out a bitter laugh. "And that's enough?"

"It's a start." She folded her arms. "Unless you're about to ask Vance for another mind wipe?"

I hesitated. The thought had crossed my mind.

But then I thought of Emily. Of what The Oath had done to her. Of what I had let them do.

I straightened.

"No," I said firmly. "No more running."

Riley smirked, just a little. "Good. Because we're about to go to war, and I'm gonna need you at full capacity."

Vance sighed dramatically. "You two are exhausting. I love it."

Riley ignored him, keeping her gaze locked on mine.

"So?" she asked. "What's next?"

I took a breath, the weight of the past still pressing down on me.

But for the first time, I wasn't sinking.

"We end this," I said. "Julian, The Oath—every last one of them."

Riley nodded. "Then let's get to work."

But as we left the lab, my mind whispered one last, terrifying thought.

If I had chosen to forget back then…

What would stop me from doing it again?