The Breaking Point

Stein frowned. "What?" Maybe he had misheard. "Allen, come on. We have to go."

"No… no…" Allen's murmurs grew louder, his breathing heavier. Then, suddenly—

"NO! I SAID NO!"

The outburst sent a cold shock through the room. The soldiers instinctively tightened their grips on their rifles.

Stein took a step forward, irritation creeping into his voice. "What the hell are you saying, Allen? Didn't you hear Francis? We need to leave."

Francis took another slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke. The swirling haze danced around his face as he exhaled, his voice smooth, measured.

"Now, now, kid…" His lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "Don't make me take any difficult decisions, okay?"

The way he said it—so casual, so calm—made the air feel colder.

The lab was quiet. Too quiet.

It was the kind of silence that came before a storm, thick with unease.

Stein and Alex felt it—an invisible weight pressing down on them. Francis' words still lingered in the air, but their fear had begun to shift, not just toward him but toward Allen.

Something was wrong.

Stein took a hesitant step forward, his voice low, careful. "Allen… why are you doing this?"

Allen didn't respond. He just kept staring, his body eerily still, but his fingers trembled slightly at his sides.

Stein exhaled, trying to reason with him. "There's no point in this anymore. Our lives are more important. The world will learn about Veilith when the time is right—but that time isn't now."

He glanced at Francis. "He's right." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but he forced himself to say them. "If the world—the world as it is now—gets its hands on Veilith, they'll burn everything to the ground. I was too caught up in the research, in my own ambition, to see it before. But I see it now."

Allen finally reacted.

A slow, jerky turn of his head. His face remained unreadable, blank, wrong. But his voice—his voice was something else entirely.

"How can you say that, Doctor?"

His tone was flat, but his words came fast, too fast, slipping out in an erratic, frantic rush. "Seven years. I gave you seven years of my life. Do you even remember why I joined you in the first place? Do you remember what you promised me?"

Stein opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Allen's face didn't move. No anger, no sadness. But his eyes—his eyes wouldn't stop moving. Darting back and forth, wild, unfocused.

"Why are we only looking at the negatives? What about everything this could change? The diseases we could cure? The problems we could solve?"

His voice rose with every word, spiraling into something unhinged. "We've uncovered the source of everything. Veilith could change the very fabric of existence—"

Then his voice broke.

"My m—" His throat caught. A tremor ran through him. "My mother…"

For the first time, his face changed.

Tears welled up in his frantic eyes, rolling down his still expressionless face.

"You told me this research could save her." His voice was shaking now, raw and cracked. "You told me to hold on, that it would all be worth it."

Stein felt his stomach sink. Oh, God.

"So I stayed away. Seven years. Seven fucking years. And now—now, when we're finally here, when we've finally succeeded, you're telling me to walk away? To let it all burn?"

His breath hitched as he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. And when he looked up again—

The emptiness was gone.

In its place was something else. Something sharp. Something dangerous.

Allen squared his shoulders, his stance firm, his gaze locked.

"No." His voice was steady now, unwavering. "I am not letting you take this away from me."

Allen had always been timid, the kind of person who kept his head down, spoke softly, and followed orders. Seeing him like this—defiant, unshaken, reckless—made something in Stein's gut twist.

He was scared for him.

Stein turned to Francis, trying to read his expression, trying to anticipate what the man would do next.

Francis looked… bored. Annoyed, even, as if this whole situation was nothing more than a tedious inconvenience.

Then, with a tired sigh, he spoke.

"Kid, do you really want to risk the lives of millions for your mother?"

Allen's breathing was uneven, but his resolve didn't waver. "What millions? What are you even talking about since you came here, old man? There is no proof that 'millions' will suffer because of Veilith." Allen said this in frustration, but he himself didn't believe it.

After Stein, he was the one with the most knowledge about Veilith, and he knew. He knew. But his love and obsession with his mother were stopping him from thinking logically. So he was saying anything now, like a mad, broken man. His voice was sharp now, laced with frustration. "And this isn't just about her. This is about the entire world."

Alex flinched.

He's not thinking clearly. He is having some kind of panic attack, but this is not how Allen usually acts.

The thought was like a dagger in his mind, cold and undeniable. Allen was drowning in his own emotions.

"Not just for my mother," he says. Liar.

Alex clenched his fists. Allen was never the kind of person to think about the 'greater good.'

Stein swallowed hard and stepped forward. "Allen, calm down. Think. Please."

But Allen wasn't listening. His wild eyes locked onto Stein, filled with something unrecognizable.

"No, Doctor. I've decided." His voice was eerily steady now. "I will share this knowledge with the entire world."

Stein barely had time to process those words before—

Francis sighed.

"Sorry, Stein."

Stein turned sharply, confused. "Wh—"

"Shoot him."