BETRAYED

Chapter 10: Betrayed

Loyalty always implies a two-way process, where one person gives and the other receives. Can we consider that loyal people always surrender themselves? Perhaps it's more of a cycle: the more we open ourselves to others, the more vulnerable we become.

Loyalty is a risk we accept, and sometimes, it's within this risk that the essence of human relationships is found. We can never be fully shielded from betrayal, and that often becomes a heavy burden.

In this way, loyalty and betrayal aren't simply opposites. They're more like inseparable companions.

***

We had been driving for what felt like an eternity. Gentle rays of sunlight began piercing the lingering remnants of the night fog. I felt a strange tension growing inside me. In a few moments, I would be faced with the unknown — and it frightened me.

The girl parked the car and pulled the keys from the ignition. The engine cut off. She turned to us and spoke, directing her words at me: — We've arrived. I hope you've reconsidered running away because there's no turning back.

I waited in silence, not saying a word.

She continued: — You don't need to be afraid; we're on your side and want to help, but for the plan to work, you need to trust us completely, okay?

I nodded, signaling I understood, though an uncontrollable anxiety was welling up inside me. I tried to hide it behind a calm expression, though I wasn't sure how convincing I was. Still, my nod was enough for us to step out of the car.

The moment I stepped outside, cold air wrapped around me. I took a few cautious steps, slightly unsteady. My legs were numb, as if they had been frozen in an awkward position and now resisted moving. It felt like I was learning to walk all over again. Thankfully, this lasted only a moment.

We were surrounded by an endless array of high-rise buildings. They seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, their tops hidden in the clouds. Everything around looked gray and lifeless, as if life here had been suspended years ago, and the office buildings were the only entertainment for locals. I'd never been in this city before, but I had no desire to know it better.

— Where are we? — I asked, turning to Hugo.

— Orion, — Hugo replied, then commanded, — Follow me.

He moved with such confidence that it seemed he knew every corner here. The girl followed us silently, never taking her eyes off me, as if she were waiting for the moment I'd try to run again. But this time, I had no such intention. I had no idea where Orion was on a map or how to get back to Nespish.

We approached the entrance of one of the buildings. Hugo pushed open the massive glass doors, and they obediently swung open.

At first glance, the building was indistinguishable from the others. Its facade was covered in gray glass panels, reflecting the dim light and the empty world around it. The structure was plain, devoid of any ornate designs or architectural flair — just a typical high-rise office complex, blending in with the dozens of similar buildings in the area. Clear lines, sharp angles, faceless glass windows — everything was the same as in countless other buildings nearby.

We were met by a dimly lit, spacious, empty lobby. The floor was covered in smooth, light marble, and the walls were lined with solid beige panels. The high ceilings made the atmosphere even more oppressive.

Every step echoed. The walls, bare and devoid of decoration, threw back the sound loudly. It felt like this building had been abandoned long ago.

When we reached the elevator, its doors slid open without a sound, revealing a mirrored cabin with a minimalist interior: gleaming metal, transparent glass walls, and a simple control panel with buttons for selecting floors. The building had 30 floors in total.