As soon as Noel was subdued, the officers wasted no time hauling him off to the interrogation room.
His wrists were bound tightly with coarse ropes that bit into his skin, and a rough, black hood was thrown over his head.
Even through the darkness and discomfort, a hint of a satisfied smirk played on his lips.
He knew his actions had set the stage for Mason's part of the plan.
In the cold, dimly lit interrogation room, Noel was forced into a metal chair, the legs scraping harshly against the concrete floor.
His restraints clanked loudly against the armrests, echoing in the cavernous space.
The room reeked of antiseptic and fear, the air heavy with a metallic tang that caught in his throat.
The walls were adorned with dark stains, sinister remnants hinting at the fates of those who had sat in this chair before him.
Noel waited, the silence thick and oppressive, wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.
The seconds stretched into agonizing minutes, each tick of the clock amplifying the tension.
The only sound was his own steady breathing, a rhythmic reminder of his determination.
Then, he heard it—loud, hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway, the sound bouncing off the sterile walls and growing louder with each passing second.
Anticipation coiled in his stomach like a tightening spring.
The door burst open with a bang, the force of it crashing against the wall.
Dustin stormed into the room, his face contorted into a mask of fury, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and intent.
The tension in the air was palpable, a tangible force that seemed to vibrate between them as he crossed the room in long, angry strides.
Dustin reached Noel and slammed his hands down on the metal table with a resounding crash, the impact reverberating through the room and sending a shockwave through Noel's body.
The force rattled the table, causing the handcuffs to clink sharply against the steel.
Noel looked up, the hood now pulled away, and met Dustin's burning gaze, his smirk growing wider.
The room seemed to hold its breath, the moment electric with unspoken words and hidden agendas.
"Are you crazy? How dare you try to break the rules in this prison?" Dustin's shout reverberated through the small room, the sheer volume causing the walls to seem to vibrate.
The light overhead flickered, casting erratic shadows that mirrored the chaos within him.
His eyes were wild with anger, glaring at Noel with an intensity that could burn through steel.
The veins in his neck and temples throbbed visibly, a testament to the fury that coursed through his veins.
He looked like a man on the brink of losing control, his rage a palpable force that threatened to consume the room.
Noel, in stark contrast, sat completely calm, almost serene.
His posture was relaxed, his back resting against the hard wooden chair as if it were a throne.
His gaze was steady, unflinching, eyes like cold blue marbles that gave away nothing.
He seemed utterly unperturbed by Dustin's outburst, a slight, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of his mouth, adding to his inscrutable demeanor.
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"You should calm down and continue with the interrogation. Aren't we reaching the end soon?" Noel's voice was casual, almost bored, as if he were discussing the weather rather than his recent violent upheaval.
The nonchalance in his tone was infuriating, like a match thrown onto the kindling of Dustin's rage.
"You!!" Dustin's fury escalated, his face turning a shade of red that bordered on purple.
His hands, still planted on the table, shook with barely restrained rage.
He loomed over Noel, every muscle in his body tense and ready to explode.
The tension in the air was thick, suffocating, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation.
Noel's demeanor shifted slightly, a predatory glint in his eyes.
"Hmm... don't you want to know what happened to your son?" His voice cut through the tense silence, calm yet laced with something darker, something sinister that made the hairs on the back of Dustin's neck stand up.
Dustin froze, his eyes widening in shock.
The color drained from his face, leaving him ashen and hollow-eyed.
"What? What are you talking about?" The anger in his voice wavered, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability.
The mention of his son pierced through his rage, striking at the very core of his being.
"James Markov," Noel continued, his eyes never leaving Dustin’s.
The name hung in the air like a ghost, a reminder of a past that refused to stay buried.
"Three-star officer, the one in charge of my case. He was your son, right?"
Dustin's expression hardened, a mask of stoic resolve, but his silence spoke volumes.
The mention of his son brought a torrent of emotions crashing down on him, the pain and loss he had tried to bury now resurfacing with brutal force.
Memories of James—his smile, his determination, his dedication—flooded his mind, a bittersweet montage that both comforted and tortured him.
"You want to know what happened to him," Noel said, his voice low and insidious, "that's why you're questioning me. Otherwise, if I had to guess, your higher-ups must have already decided to execute me. Am I correct?"
The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with tension.
The bare walls and harsh lighting became oppressive, closing in on Dustin as he struggled to maintain control.
Noel's words were a dagger, twisting in the wound of his grief.
Dustin's eyes bore into Noel's, a mixture of rage and desperation swirling within them.
He had tried to keep his personal grief separate from his duties, but Noel's words struck deep, ripping open old wounds.
His chest tightened, and he felt as if he were suffocating under the weight of his emotions.
Dustin took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, the motion helping to ground him.
Slowly, he moved to his chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving Noel's.
The movement was deliberate, a physical manifestation of his struggle to regain composure.
"You're correct. The reason you're alive is because of my son. So tell me what happened to him? How did he die? Did you kill him?" His voice was steady, but the underlying pain was evident.
Each word was a struggle, a raw, exposed nerve that trembled with vulnerability.
Noel leaned back slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
He seemed to savor the moment, the power he held over Dustin.
"What do you think?" he mused, his tone almost mocking.
The question was a taunt, a cruel game that he enjoyed far too much.
Dustin's patience wore thin.
The tension in the room was unbearable, each second stretching out like an eternity.
"Today I am not in the mood for your puzzles. Just answer me," he demanded, his expression serious, eyes hard as steel.
Noel sighed, as if considering whether to comply.
His sigh was heavy, a theatrical display of reluctance.
"As you say," he finally said, "the answer to your question is no. I didn't kill your son."
Dustin's eyes narrowed, a mixture of relief and confusion washing over his features.
For a brief moment, the storm inside him calmed, only to be replaced by a new wave of uncertainty.
"What? Then who killed him?"
Noel shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, the gesture maddeningly indifferent.
"I don't know."
The simple response sent a surge of frustration through Dustin.
His fists clenched, knuckles turning white.
"Haa! You... if you're lying, it won't do you any good!" he warned, his voice shaking with barely controlled anger.
The room seemed to grow smaller, the air thicker, with each passing second.
Noel watched him with an almost detached amusement.
"Well, I might have a little idea about why he died," he said, a sly smile playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with dark amusement.
"Tell me," Dustin demanded, his voice tight with tension, every word a struggle to keep his composure intact.
"You might not believe me," Noel cautioned, his tone almost teasing, as if relishing the power he held over Dustin in this moment.
"What do you mean?" Dustin's patience was wearing thin.
His entire body was taut with anticipation, the need for answers a burning ache.
"How much do you really know about your Nexus officers?" Noel leaned forward slightly, his eyes boring into Dustin's, the question hanging ominously in the air.
"What does that have to do with my son?" Dustin asked, his frustration evident, his voice edged with desperation.
He needed to understand, to make sense of the senseless loss.
"It has everything to do with it. Because he died at their hands," Noel said, his words hanging heavily in the air, each syllable a hammer blow.
The revelation struck Dustin like a physical blow, the implications rippling through him with devastating force.
Dustin's world tilted, the ground beneath his feet seeming to give way.
His heart pounded in his chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that echoed the turmoil within.
The thought of betrayal, of his own colleagues being responsible, was almost too much to bear.
"You! You think you can say whatever you want?" Dustin's shout was filled with rage, his aura flaring up and filling the room with a sudden, oppressive pressure.
It was as if the very air had thickened, pressing down on everything within the small space.
Without warning, a large hand emerged from a swirling, dark portal beside Dustin, grabbing Noel tightly around the chest and lifting him slightly off his chair.
The hand was enormous, its fingers like steel bands constricting around Noel’s body.
Noel gasped, the air forced from his lungs, but his expression remained surprisingly composed.
His eyes, though strained, held a steely defiance.
"Why don't you listen to me completely first?" Noel managed to say, his voice strained, each word a struggle against the crushing force.
Dustin's eyes burned with fury, his face a mask of seething rage.
But amidst the storm of his emotions, he forced himself to take deep, steadying breaths.
He couldn't let his anger cloud his judgment, not now.
Slowly, reluctantly, the hand released Noel, dropping him back into his chair with a thud.
The oppressive pressure in the room lifted slightly, like a suffocating blanket being pulled back, but the tension was still palpable, a live wire crackling with unresolved energy.
"Tell me," Dustin said, his voice a low growl, each word dripping with barely controlled menace.
"But don't spout any nonsense." His eyes bore into Noel, demanding truth, demanding answers.
Noel adjusted his position in the chair, rubbing his chest where the hand had gripped him.
He took a moment to catch his breath, his composure never fully breaking.
"Alright," he said, his tone now serious, devoid of its earlier mocking edge. "Listen carefully."
The air between them was thick with anticipation, every breath, every heartbeat amplifying the gravity of the moment.
Dustin leaned forward slightly, his entire being focused on Noel, ready to catch every word.