Blade institute: the unseen prophecy

28

The hallways of the Institute felt suffocating, their once-familiar walls now closing in on me with each step. Every face I passed seemed to mock me, as if they all knew the secrets that had been kept from me, and the reality I had been blind to for so long.

I was halfway to the entrance when I heard footsteps behind me, quicker than the usual pace of someone just walking through the halls. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. I kept my pace steady, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the turmoil on my face.

"Wait," Rian's voice called out, breathless and urgent.

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my emotions in check, but I could feel the anger bubbling up, threatening to explode. I didn't want to hear his excuses, his justifications. He had lied to me, played me like a pawn in some sick game, and now I couldn't trust anything he said.

"Just leave me alone," I snapped, not slowing down.

But Rian was faster. He reached out, grabbing my arm, forcing me to stop and face him. The touch sent a jolt through me—not of fear, but of the deep, seething rage that had been building since I left the Headmaster's office.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled, yanking my arm free from his grasp. "You're a liar, Rian. Just like the rest of them."

His face was a mixture of guilt and desperation, the mask of indifference he usually wore nowhere to be seen. "I didn't want you to find out this way," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" I scoffed, stepping back as if his words were something foul. "You used me! You've been lying to me this whole time. I thought we were finally becoming friends, but it was all just an act, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't an act," he insisted, his voice pained. "I swear it wasn't."

I shook my head, the anger and hurt mixing into something almost unbearable. "Then why, Rian? Why pretend to be something you're not? Why keep me in the dark while you and the others were watching me like some lab experiment?"

His gaze faltered, his usually sharp eyes clouded with something that looked suspiciously like shame. "I had orders," he said quietly. "Orders to keep an eye on you, to protect you—"

"To protect me?" I interrupted, my voice rising with incredulity. "Is that what you call it? Lying to me, deceiving me? You didn't protect me, Rian—you betrayed me. Just like everyone else."

He flinched as if I'd struck him, but I didn't care. I was too angry, too hurt to hold back. "And last night?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "Did you use me then too? Was it all just part of the mission?"

"No!" he said quickly, his voice desperate. "No, that was real. I wasn't using you—I was trying to protect you."

"By keeping me at arm's length?" I shot back. "By acting like you didn't care, like I was just another job to you?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but I didn't give him the chance. "You know what? I should've seen it coming," I said bitterly. "You're just like your brother—keeping secrets, playing games, manipulating people. No wonder he turned."

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I saw the pain flash across Rian's face, his eyes darkening with a deep, old wound I had just torn open. He took a step back, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"That's not fair," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

But I was too far gone to care. The anger had taken over, and I was lashing out at the one person who had become my lightning rod. "Isn't it?" I pressed, my voice cold. "Maybe if you had been a better brother, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did. Maybe you're just as responsible for what happened as he is."