Chapter 167

167 The Truth

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“Ooh, you seem pretty scared,” he said, with teeth over his bottom lip, as I looked down at the ground with my heart beating so fast in my chest it was hard for me to breathe properly. “That’s good, because you’re gonna get what you deserve.” Greg sighed, and slowly nodded.

“You see, when I was diagnosed with PTSD, I thought about it for a few days. But the more and more I began to realize, you were the cause of it. Your crazy missions with your crazy enemy had done a lot of damage to me. I was never so scared any other day than the day Rocke kidnapped us in that ship. You broke me. I was too scared to wake up another day, and all you were doing was bringing me down. I fought Kirk so I could become popular, to gain the confidence I had back then. But instead, you and your dirty hands want to drag me back down, and trust me-I’m not going down there again. Listen, our friendship was nothing but a toxin. Leave me alone, or I will make you do so myself.”

I was too shocked-too astonished-to speak. Then the bell rang for the next period of the day-and everything stopped for me.

I stood there in shock for a few seconds before I could even comprehend what had happened to me, as everything came into view before my eyes; I stood there with my mouth hanging open as I could barely comprehend what I had just witnessed happen. What he said. What he thought.

What I did.

It wasn’t real.

I don’t believe that he could have done all of those things.

He must be lying. There was no way he defended me because he wanted to become popular. There is no way he thought I caused him that much fear. He decided to help me in the first place. But, we were technically brothers so he pretty much had to help me.

.....

But still...he was right. The missions were too dangerous.

I had just seen Greg try to kill me because he was just trying to fit in with his friends by making it seem like we were enemies. That’s not who I am anymore, though-I don’t want to be an enemy with anyone ever again.

I stood there trying to make sense of it all as my mind raced for answers. Tears rolled down my eyes as I dropped to my knees, as I started to cry uncontrollably and couldn’t stop myself; it felt like all my energy had been sucked out of my body-and that’s exactly what happened.

I was alone.

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School ended as a portal opened and sucked me back to the entrance of the YMPA. I still felt the pain beating inside my heart as I walked inside. As I walked in, I looked up-seeing Tisiah walking towards me with such a smile, but then it was gone as he saw my expression and expression turned into something else.

He rushed over and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked, but no words could come out of my mouth, so he shook me slightly; then I could see that my eyes were watering and my body was trembling violently as he stared at me with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I responded, finally being able to speak again. “Why do you ask?” He didn’t say anything back as he looked at me with his soft eyes and tried to read the expression on my face. “Nothing,” he responded as he looked at me, then looked down to the floor, and then back up at me. “I just got a feeling that you weren’t too well.”

“Trust me, I’m fine,” I said with a weak smile, as I placed my hand on his shoulder for support; but it didn’t feel like I needed the support at this point. “I’m just really exhausted right now.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Well hopefully the news Mr. Drails might make your day better,” Tisiah said with a smile, and I returned one at him. These are good friends that support me, not Greg, who is still being an brickhead about the whole situation, but still-it doesn’t matter right now.

We walked into the room, where we saw Mr. Drails sitting down while looking on his phone, but he was smiling in an amused way as we walked inside and sat down on the floor next to him.

“So how are things going?” Mr. Drails asked, while still smiling on his phone.

“What do you mean?” Tisiah asked in response.

“Japan?” Mr. Drails said as realization came into everyone’s heads, except mine-which was still clouded with confusion and anger.

“Oh yeah, well-it’s been interesting,” Tisiah said as he started to laugh and shook his head, while Mr. Drails nodded in agreement. “Yeah, now what I want you guys to do is to watch this interrogation. Hear the information just so that I don’t waste my time and energy explaining a five-page essay to you guys.”

Suddenly a video that was inside Mr. Drails’s special interrogation room popped up. Marcello was in the room by himself, but he didn’t look like a criminal-he looked more like a confused teenager who had done something dumb that he wasn’t proud of, as his head was down on the table in front of him with his hands cuffed together.

Soon enough, Mr. Drails entered the room, holding a folder before he sat down. Marcello didn’t looked intimidated by a slight bit, and even smiled a little bit as Mr. Drails pulled out a small recorder from his pocket and put it on the table in front of him, then he clicked it on. “Hello, Marcello Forde,” Mr. Drails greeted with a chuckle, as his eyes wandered over to the recorder. “I’m Bruce Drails from the YMPA.”

Marcello gave a nod as he looked at the recorder with a curious expression on his face. “I’m very sorry for your-um-BANE assasins that were killed in that explosion, I’m very sorry for you.” Marcello continued to say nothing, but his voice sounded kind of like it was getting caught in his throat as he looked at Mr. Drails with an expression that seemed more like anger than sadness.

“But you know, that’s how it is. The same thing happens to me,” Mr. Drails said.

“What does Rocke want with me?” Marcello asked, as Mr. Drails’s eyes widened. Then he began to laugh as he looked at Marcello. “We don’t work for Rocke. In fact we worked against him?”

“What do you mean-worked?”

“Well, he’s dead. Was shot in the head,” Mr. Drails said. “Unlucky person.” He shook his head sarcastically, then he chuckled at the thought of the whole ordeal. Then he put his hand on his chin in thought for a minute as he thought about something; then he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, as he began to speak again. “So-what’s going on here?” He asked as he pulled out a notebook from his pocket, as he began to take notes.

“Going on where?” Marcello asked.

Mr. Drails was silent before he abruptly said, “You know, you always had been the man who was hired-good at his job. First Rocke, now Maddie Cone.” Marcello’s face suddenly changed into worry, and he glanced down at Mr. Drails’s notebook, which was starting to get filled up quickly as it was making some noises as the pen continued to write down notes on it.

“You were the mole that told about Charlie, which was a good place for them to slow down their supplies and electricity. Plus, keep the Xeno weapon. You also told them about Masaru Kin, who would be a suitable boy with a Perk to make the Xeno into a reality,” Mr. Drails said, looking directly at Marcello’s eyes, as he had a smug grin on his face; then he began to chuckle again at what he was saying as if it was a joke. “Your BANE assassins have committed over thousands of murders, probably more just under your orders. How do you get them anyways?”

“How is that important?” Marcello hissed, but then started to shake his head and frown as he looked away from Mr. Drails and towards the wall in front of him, as if he didn’t want anyone to see him frowning so obviously. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” Mr. Drails asked, leaning forward. “I want you to be my mole.”

“Your mole?”

“Yes, precisely,” Mr. Drails repeated with a wide smile, as he held up his hands in front of him with his palms out and nodded his head with a chuckle in his voice as if it was a joke.