Eternal Echoes ✔

Chapter 40: Breaking Point

In another part of the compound, Rachel sat tied to a chair, her face bruised from repeated blows. The interrogator glared at her, his expression filled with contempt. "You're Japanese, aren't you?" he spat. "A spy sent to undermine us."

Rachel lifted her chin, defiance in her eyes. "I'm Chinese, born in America." She said, her voice steady despite the pain. "I am no spy."

The interrogator slapped her hard across the face, sending her head snapping to the side. "Liar!" he shouted. "We'll get the truth out of you."

Rachel's head snapped back from another blow, blood trickling from her split lip. The interrogator glared at her, frustration etched into his features. "You're tougher than you look," he muttered.

Rachel spat blood, her eyes shooting curses at the men in front of her.

The interrogator reached for a nearby instrument of torture.

Emily, still suffering from the long-term effects of hypothermia, shivered uncontrollably in her cell. The soldiers had taken advantage of her weakened state, their methods cruel and relentless.

"Why are you with them?" one of the soldiers demanded, his voice cold.

Emily gasped, her teeth chattering. "Please, we just want to go home."

The soldier sneered, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her head back. "Liar," he hissed. "We'll see how much more you can endure."

Michael lay on a cot, his mind foggy from the drugs they had given him. His dreams were filled with confusing images, blending reality and nightmare. He saw Emily's face, twisted in pain, and felt a surge of guilt and fear.

"Can you trust her?" a voice in his dreams whispered. "Is she really on your side?"

Michael's eyes snapped open, his heart racing—the line between friend and foe blurred by the drugs and the torture.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He didn't know what was real anymore, didn't know who to trust. The drugs and the torture were breaking down his defenses, leaving him vulnerable and confused.

Daniel, his face swollen from the slap, sat on the floor of his cell, his hands tied behind his back. He could hear the others' screams and felt a wave of helplessness.

The door to his cell creaked open, and a soldier stepped inside, a cruel smile on his lips. "Ready to talk?" he asked, kicking Daniel in the ribs.

Daniel gritted his teeth, enduring the kicks and blows from the soldier. He refused to cry out, refused to give them the satisfaction. He had to stay strong, had to protect his friends.

The door to his cell creaked open, and a new figure stepped inside—a higher-ranking officer, his eyes cold and calculating. "You're a tough one," the officer said, his voice a low growl. "But everyone breaks eventually."

Thomas slumped in the chair, his vision swimming. The pain was a constant, throbbing presence, threatening to overwhelm him. The officer loomed over him, a shadowy figure in the dim light.

"We're not done yet," the officer said coldly. "You will talk, one way or another."

Thomas's mind was a haze of agony and fear. He could barely think, let alone formulate a coherent response.

In her cell, Olivia's scar burned hotter, the pain searing her thoughts. The entity's voice grew louder, more insistent. "Let me in, Olivia. I can save you. I can save you all."