Is That Mom

Part 7 of Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Unraveling the Final Threads

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Part 7:

The Confrontation

Ethan barely had time to process the weight of his mother’s final message when the silence of the facility shattered. A metallic clank echoed from the entrance, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps reverberating through the halls. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. He wasn’t alone anymore.

The footsteps grew louder, more deliberate, as though the intruders knew exactly where they were headed. The realization hit him hard—they’d been watching him. Tracking him. And now, they had found him.

Instinct kicked in, and Ethan darted to the corner of the room, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the murmur of voices growing closer, low and commanding. He glanced at the monitor, at the desk littered with his mother’s notes, and knew he had to protect what he had uncovered. But the fear clawing at him was palpable, a deep, gnawing dread that tightened his chest. Whoever these people were, they were dangerous—and they were here for him.

The door to the room burst open, and Ethan flinched as a group of figures clad in dark tactical gear stormed inside. Their movements were precise, efficient, as they spread out, securing the space. The leader, a tall man with a cold, calculating gaze, stepped forward, his expression unreadable.

"Ethan," the man said, his voice low but commanding. "You’ve found what we were looking for."

Ethan’s hands clenched into fists. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice barely steady. “Why are you after me?”

The man’s gaze flickered with something like amusement, but it was fleeting. “We’ve been watching you for a long time. Ever since you were a child, you were part of this. Whether you knew it or not, your mother made sure of that.”

Ethan’s stomach twisted at the mention of his mother. “What are you talking about?”

The man took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “Your mother wasn’t working alone. The experiments, the research—it was all funded by us. We provided the resources, the facilities. But she… she went too far. The project became something else, something beyond our control. We’ve been waiting for you to uncover the truth, to find this place, and now that you have… we want what you’ve learned.”

Ethan shook his head, disbelief and anger surging through him. “You’ve been using me? This whole time?”

“You were always a part of the plan,” the man replied coolly. “Your mother didn’t trust us. She knew we’d come for the research eventually, so she hid it, made sure only you could find it. But now, you’ve led us right to it.”

The weight of their words hit Ethan like a punch to the gut. Everything he’d been through, everything he’d uncovered—it had all been manipulated. He had thought he was chasing the truth, finding answers, but in reality, he had been playing right into their hands. The anger simmered beneath the surface, hot and raw.

“I’m not giving you anything,” Ethan spat, his voice trembling with fury. “You’ve done enough. My mother may have crossed lines, but this… this was her work. You won’t take it from me.”

The man’s expression darkened, his gaze hardening. “You’re in no position to make demands, Ethan. We’ve waited long enough. Hand over the data, and maybe we’ll let you walk out of here alive.”

Ethan’s heart raced, his mind scrambling for a way out. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in around him. He could see the tactical team in his peripheral vision, ready to strike at the leader’s command. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and completely vulnerable.

But he couldn’t give them what they wanted. Not after everything he had learned. Not after everything his mother had done—right or wrong. He had to protect the information, if not for her legacy, then for the people who had suffered in those experiments. Giving it to these people would only perpetuate the same horrors.

“I’m not giving you anything,” Ethan repeated, his voice steadier this time, defiant.

The leader’s gaze flickered with something cold and dangerous. He gave a slight nod, and one of the men stepped forward, grabbing Ethan by the arm and wrenching him toward the desk. Ethan struggled, but the man’s grip was iron-tight, his strength overwhelming.

“We’re not playing games, Ethan,” the leader said, his voice dropping to a chilling calm. “Give us the data, or we’ll take it by force.”

Panic surged through Ethan’s veins as the man dragged him toward the terminal, forcing him to sit in front of the monitor. His mother’s research flickered on the screen—years of experiments, lives ruined, twisted for some larger, shadowy purpose. He felt a surge of disgust, both at the data in front of him and at the men standing behind him, ready to take it and twist it further.

“No,” Ethan growled, shaking his head. “You can’t have it.”

The leader stepped forward, his voice a low, menacing growl. “You’re not in control here. You never were.”

Ethan’s hands hovered over the keyboard. He could feel the weight of their eyes on him, waiting for him to comply, to give in. But he couldn’t. Not after everything. With a quick, desperate motion, he smashed his hand down on the delete key.

“No!” the leader barked, but it was too late. The screen flickered, and the files began to disappear, one by one, erasing years of data in a matter of seconds.

The tactical team surged forward, but Ethan had already committed. The data was gone. All of it.

A sharp blow to the side of his head sent him sprawling to the floor, pain exploding through his skull. The world spun as he hit the ground, his vision swimming. He could hear the leader shouting orders, the room buzzing with fury and confusion, but the pain in his head was overwhelming, dulling the edges of reality.

Through the haze, Ethan managed a weak, defiant smile. He had destroyed it. He had taken it away from them. Whatever his mother’s work had been, it wouldn’t be used by these people—people who had manipulated her, manipulated him.

But as the darkness crept in at the edges of his vision, Ethan knew this wasn’t over. He had made enemies—powerful, dangerous enemies—and they wouldn’t let this go. Not now. Not after everything.

As he slipped into unconsciousness, the last thought that crossed his mind was simple: What have I done?