The Decision

The room fell into a suffocating silence. The air was thick, weighted by the unspoken horror hanging between them. Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, their cold artificial glow casting sharp shadows along the sterile, white walls. The hum of Veilith pulsed in the background, steady and rhythmic, like the heartbeat of something vast and unknowable. The light it emitted was unnatural, shifting between deep crimson and eerie violet, warping the air around it as if reality itself were struggling to contain its presence.

Alex and Allen stood frozen, their backs rigid, breaths shallow. Fear had locked them in place, their young minds teetering on the edge of understanding. They didn't grasp the full weight of Francis's words—but they knew enough to be terrified.

Stein, however, felt something deeper. His hands trembled at his sides, his fingers curling involuntarily as if trying to grasp onto something solid, something real. His mind raced, emotions crashing over him in waves—fear, disbelief, disappointment.

He wasn't the first.

I wasn't the first.

The revelation struck like a hammer. Seven years. Seven years of relentless research, of sleepless nights spent chasing the impossible, of believing—knowing—that he had uncovered something no one else had ever even conceived. And yet, someone had been here before him.

But then another thought surfaced, creeping up his spine like ice-cold fingers.

What did I do? What could possibly 'doom' us all?

He looked at Francis now, truly looked at him. The older man's expression wasn't just stern—it was resigned, as if he had already accepted something too terrible to fight against. Stein felt his stomach knot itself tighter.

Francis saw the confusion written across his face and sighed, rubbing his temples before speaking again. His voice was quieter this time, yet it cut just as deep.

"You managed to find a way to materialize it, didn't you?"

Stein swallowed hard. His throat was dry, his voice a fragile whisper.

"Y—Ye—Yes…"

Francis closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before shaking his head. Disappointment flickered across his features, but there was something else beneath it—regret.

"No one has ever managed to do it before. And the ones who got close?" A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. "We stopped them. Before they made the same fucking mistake." He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "But we were too late with you."

He took a step closer. A subtle movement, yet it changed the atmosphere of the room entirely. His presence loomed over Stein now, pressing down on him with an unspoken finality. The flickering red glow from Veilith cast sharp lines across his face, making him look almost inhuman.

"Listen to me carefully, Stein." His voice was grim, absolute. "Scrap this project. Burn everything. Every file, every sample, every trace of this research—destroy it. Forget this ever happened."

Stein's pulse pounded in his ears. The weight of those words, the certainty behind them—it was suffocating. But Francis wasn't finished.

He held Stein's gaze, eyes cold, unreadable. Then, with a voice like steel, he added:

"Remember, Stein—sometimes, ignorance is actually bliss."

And then his tone dropped lower, quieter. But there was something else in it now—something darker. A warning. A promise.

"Cooperate… and don't make me take any difficult decisions."

That last sentence sent a chill down Alex and Allen's spines. It wasn't a threat.

It was a statement of fact.

Stein was afraid, but that last sentence didn't surprise him.

Of course, the Head of Secrets of the Republic could make me disappear with a snap of his fingers.

But fear wasn't his only concern. Stein was a scientist. A man of logic, of progress. He had always told himself that, if it came to it, he would die for his research—because nothing mattered more than the pursuit of truth. Nothing.

But he wasn't alone in this.

Alex and Allen were here. Two young minds, brilliant and full of potential, who had followed him into this abyss without ever truly knowing the danger.

And as much as he hated to admit it… Francis wasn't entirely wrong.

For the first time, Stein hesitated.

His mind waged war against itself, screaming a thousand different arguments. His research—his life's work—reduced to ashes? The thought was unbearable. But what if Francis was telling the truth? What if this thing—Veilith—was never meant to exist in this form? What if it truly could bring ruin?

His fingers twitched. His lips parted, but no words came out at first.

Then, finally, he exhaled. A slow, reluctant surrender.

"Okay, Mr. Francis." His voice was hoarse, exhausted. "I'll do as you say."

Francis remained silent, waiting.

Stein met his eyes. "But promise me—you won't hurt my assistants."

Francis studied him for a moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a small smirk. There was the faintest hint of relief in his eyes.

"You have my word."

The tension in the room began to ease, if only slightly. Stein took a slow, measured breath, though his heart still pounded like a war drum inside his chest. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, thick as the lingering smoke from the shattered security door. The sterile lab, once a sanctuary of science and logic, now felt suffocating—too small, too fragile to contain the truths unraveling before him.

And yet, something gnawed at the edge of his thoughts. A loose thread that didn't quite make sense.

He glanced at Francis, the crimson glow of Veilith casting shifting shadows across the older man's face. There was something… off. Something in the way he carried himself, in the way he spoke, that suddenly didn't align with the picture Stein had always had of him.

Stein's brow furrowed. He spoke, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "You know… it's weird."

Francis raised a brow, waiting.

"Wouldn't the Republic love something like this?" Stein continued, a creeping unease settling into his bones. "They're always chasing weapons of mass destruction, anything that gives them more power, more control… but I guess even they are afraid of Veilith's potential."

For a second, Francis said nothing. Then, a low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the kind that wasn't quite amusement—more like bitter recognition. He shrugged.

"Yeah… if the Republic knew."

Stein blinked.

A strange, hollow feeling settled in his gut.

"What?" He took a step forward, his breath hitching. "Don't you work for them? Doesn't Secrets work for the Republic?"

Francis' smirk faded, his sharp features hardening into something unreadable. The room suddenly felt colder.

When he spoke again, his voice was sharper, edged with something dangerous. "Secrets' job is to protect everything that needs protecting." He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "We work for the people, Stein. Not those fat fuckers at the top." His jaw tightened, the disgust in his voice barely concealed. "Because we know exactly what kind of fucked-up shit they'd do if they got their hands on this."

He took another step forward, close enough now that Stein could see the storm behind his eyes—deep, conflicted, filled with something that almost looked like regret.

"The world wouldn't change, Stein."

His voice dropped lower.

His words slowed.

Deliberate. Absolute.

"The world would fucking burn."