Noah's POV
Hearing the truth from my father broke something inside me. It felt like the walls I'd built over the years, the anger, the confusion, everything, started to crumble. And in that moment, I realized something. I realized that all these years, everything I thought I knew, all the hate I'd carried for so long-it didn't matter anymore. It was enough. I had my answer.
I looked at my father, his face worn, his eyes filled with a tiredness I couldn't describe. He didn't deserve to leave this room, and he knew it. But the way he was looking at me, it was like he had already accepted everything. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation. Just... resolve..
He took a breath and spoke, his voice soft, "Noah, I don't have any more questions for you. But I have... one last wish."
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. What could he possibly want from me now?
"Take care of the two most important women in the world," he said, his voice breaking a little. "Emery... and your mother. They meant everything to me. They still do. Protect them, Noah. Do what I couldn't."
I could barely breathe. My throat was tight, and I couldn't find any words. I just stared at him, trying to understand how this man, my father, who had caused so much pain, could still care so much.
"I won't be leaving this room," he continued, and there was a strange calmness in his voice now. "That's what I want. But you, Noah, you need to stand up. Be the man I couldn't be. Protect Emery, protect your mother... from now on."
He glanced at the gun on the table between us, and I felt a wave of nausea rise in my chest. His eyes met mine, and with a slight nod, he signaled that he was ready.
But I wasn't.
I couldn't do it. Killing my father- it felt like crossing a line I could never come back from. How could I do this? How could I take his life, no matter what he had done? If I didn't, we'd both die from the electric shock, but... how could I make this choice? It was ripping me apart.
He let out a shaky breath and spoke again, this time almost to himself. "Maybe... maybe it's better if your mom never finds out the truth. About all the things I've done. She wouldn't be able to handle it."
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away, trying to hold on to whatever strength I had left.
"It's time, Noah," he said, his voice firmer now, "Time is running out for both of us, kiddo. You need to throw the bullet... you need to end this."
My hands were shaking, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't want to do this. I couldn't. But my body moved on its own, as if it knew there was no other way. I picked up the gun, my fingers trembling around the cold metal. It felt heavy, so heavy, like the weight of everything that had happened was pressing down on me through this one moment.
I stood up, struggling to keep my balance, the gun shaking in my hand. My father looked at me, his eyes soft, almost kind. I hated him for making me do this, but at the same time... I loved him. He was still my father.
Tears streamed down my face as I pointed the gun at him. He didn't flinch. He didn't move, He just smiled, a painful smile that broke my heart all over again.
"I promised," I whispered, my voice cracking, barely able to get the words out.
My father let out a soft laugh, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "Good boy," he said, his voice low, almost gentle. "It's time, Noah. Don't make it harder for the both of us, alright?"
I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of everything, and my hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped the gun. But I couldn't stop now. I had to do this. For him. For Emery. For my mother.
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room, loud and final. My father's body jerked back, and his eyes slowly closed. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. It was over.
I stood there, frozen, unable to move, my hand still gripping the gun as if it was the only thing keeping me upright. The air felt thick, heavy, like it was pressing down on me, suffocating me. I had just killed my father. The man who had raised me, who had caused so much pain, and yet... he was still my father.
I wanted to scream, to cry, to throw the gun across the room, but I couldn't. My hands were trembling, my body shaking uncontrollably. It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me, like I was falling and there was nothing to catch me.
My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor, the gun slipping from my hand and landing with a dull thud on the table. I stared at It, my vision blurry from the tears that wouldn't stop falling.
It wasn't my first time killing someone, but this... this was different. It felt like something Inside me had been torn apart, something I would never be able to fix. The weight of it was crushing, and I could feel myself breaking under it.
1 killed him. I killed my own father.
The thought kept running through my mind, over and over again, and no matter how much I tried to push it away, it wouldn't leave. It was like a poison, spreading through me, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.
I could feel the gun shaking in my hands before it finally slipped from my grip completely. It fell to the table, but I didn't even notice. I was too lost in the storm raging inside me, the mix of guilt, pain, and confusion tearing me apart.
Emery... how was I going to tell her? How could I explain what I had done? How could I face her after this?
But I didn't have a choice. This was our reality now, whether I liked it or not. There was no going back
There was no undoing what had been done.
I could still feel the weight of the gun in my hand, even though it was no longer there. I could still hear my father's voice, telling me to be a man, to protect Emery and our mother. But how could I do that when I couldn't even protect myself from this? From the truth, from the pain?
Fate had brought us here, to this moment, and there was nothing we could do to change it. Nothing.
I sat there, staring at the body of the man who had once been my father, and for the first time in my life, I felt truly lost.
A tap on my shoulder pulled me from the crushing silence. For a second, I thought it was Emery. Maybe she was here to pull me out of this darkness, to tell me that everything would be okay. I didn’t know how to face her, but maybe—just maybe—she could make this all stop hurting.
I turned around slowly, the pain still etched deep into my bones. But it wasn’t Emery.
It was Lucas.
His eyes were dark, filled with something I couldn’t quite name—pity, regret, maybe both. He looked at me like he understood everything, like he knew exactly what was happening inside me. But how could he? How could anyone understand what I just did?
“I’m sorry,” Lucas said quietly.
I stared at him, confused. ‘Sorry?’ What did he have to be sorry for? This wasn’t his fault. This wasn’t anyone’s fault except for the man lying on the floor. My father. It was him who put us here, who forced us into this nightmare of a game. And yet, I couldn’t even process the why. All I could feel was the pain that wouldn’t stop tearing at me, and I couldn’t make it go away.
“I’m... sorry,” Lucas repeated, softer this time, like he wasn’t sure if I could even hear him.
But I heard him. I just didn’t understand.
Why was he apologizing? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore. The world around me felt blurry, like I was trapped in some fog, and no matter how hard I tried to clear it, I couldn’t see anything but my father’s face in those last moments. His eyes full of pain... and something like peace. He was ready to go. But I wasn’t ready to let him.
“Noah,” Lucas said, his voice snapping me back for a second. “You... need to keep going. We’re not done yet.”
‘Not done?’
I blinked at him, trying to focus on his words, but they didn’t make sense. My mind was still back there, with my father, with the gun. I couldn’t shake it. 
“The game,” Lucas said, his voice steady but urgent. “There’s still one final part. We have to finish it. The sun’s almost up, Noah. We don’t have much time.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just stood there, lost in everything that had just happened. How could he talk about finishing the game when I had just—
Lucas stepped closer, his hand still on my shoulder, squeezing slightly like he was trying to ground me. “I know it’s hard,” he said quietly. “But you have to keep moving. Emery is waiting. You promised, remember?”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I promised. I promised to protect her, to protect Mom, just like my father asked me to. But how could I protect anyone when I felt this broken? When I could barely stand, barely breathe?
I looked down at the floor, my vision blurring with the tears I didn’t realize were there. I didn’t have the strength to answer Lucas, to tell him that I couldn’t do it. That I'm not the same boy who was strong enough.