Dustin quickly got into his car and accelerated, the engine roaring to life as he sped through the streets.

His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination, the urgency of the situation driving him forward.

Streetlights and buildings blurred past, his focus solely on reaching the café where he would confront the possibility of a devastating truth.

He arrived at the café, a quiet, familiar place that had once been a favorite spot for him and his family.

The memories of happier times lingered in the corners, offering a fleeting comfort amidst his turmoil.

Dustin took a deep breath and entered, the bell above the door jingling softly as he stepped inside.

The café was warm and inviting, filled with the comforting aromas of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods.

He chose a table in a secluded corner, away from the prying eyes and ears of other patrons.

Sitting down, he scanned the entrance, his eyes darting to every figure that walked in, his anticipation building with each passing second.

The minutes felt like hours as he waited, his fingers drumming anxiously on the table.

His mind raced, replaying the interrogation with Noel and the implications of what he had learned.

Could his son's death really be part of a larger conspiracy?

The thought was almost too unbearable to consider, yet he knew he had to face it.

When Wilson finally walked in, Dustin's heart skipped a beat.

He stood up, their eyes meeting, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

The weight of their friendship, their shared history, and the gravity of the situation hung in the air between them.

Wilson's face was a mix of concern and curiosity, his usual confident demeanor tempered by the seriousness of the situation.

The gravity in Dustin's voice had shaken him, revealing a side of Wilson rarely seen.

"Dustin," Wilson said, clasping his friend's hand firmly, the warmth of his grip offering a momentary comfort.

"What’s going on?"

"Let's sit down first," Dustin replied, his voice steady but filled with an underlying tension.

He felt an urgent need to unload everything immediately but forced himself to stay composed, knowing this conversation needed careful handling.

They took a seat in a secluded corner, the hum of the café fading into the background.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Here, they were away from prying eyes and ears, the intimate setting allowing for the difficult truths to come to light.

Wilson leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Dustin’s.

"What happened? Tell me."

Dustin took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he clasped them together.

The words he needed to say were heavy on his tongue.

"My son, h... how did he die?" His voice broke, the anguish palpable.

Wilson's eyes softened with empathy, but there was also a flicker of something else—perhaps dread.

"Don't you know that already? He was killed by Noel. Why are you asking me that? What happened?"

Wilson's voice was tinged with worry, his usually calm demeanor cracking.

Dustin took a deep breath, steadying himself for the conversation that could change everything.

His eyes locked onto Wilson's, searching for any flicker of deceit.

"Is it really the truth?" Dustin asked, his voice a low, urgent whisper.

Wilson's gaze shifted slightly, a momentary glance away that did not go unnoticed.

"Yes... What happened to you?" he replied, but his tone was unsteady, betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"You're lying," Dustin said, his voice rising.

"Tell me the truth. Are our officers involved in his death?"

Wilson's expression grew somber, the weight of Dustin's words bearing down on him.

His eyes, usually so steadfast, now reflected a deep inner turmoil.

"So Noel has already told you everything?" Wilson said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dustin's heart raced as he leaned in, his eyes boring into Wilson's.

"What is the truth, Wilson?" he asked, his voice trembling with the weight of desperation.

Wilson took a deep breath, guilt etched into every line of his face.

"Yes. Your son was indeed killed on Mr. Robert's orders," he admitted, his voice heavy with remorse.

As soon as the words left Wilson's mouth, Dustin's expression shifted from hope to a raw, searing pain.

His face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and anguish.

"Why?" he asked, struggling to keep his emotions in check. The question came out as a whisper, almost pleading.

Wilson looked down, unable to meet Dustin's eyes.

"It was because of Project Epoch. James had discovered everything about it and was about to expose the whole operation. They needed to stop him."

"But trust me, Dustin, I didn't know they would decide to eliminate him. If I had known... if I had known, I would have done everything in my power to stop them."

"What does it matter now? Didn't you think that those experiments were wrong to begin with?" Dustin demanded, his voice shaking with anger.

Wilson flinched at the accusation, his face a mixture of guilt and desperation.

"Those experiments might seem wrong at first," he began, trying to steady his voice.

"But think about it closely. There were villains everywhere, and we were powerless to stop them. Each day, more victims were suffering, dying. We had no choice but to resort to that."

Dustin’s eyes burned with a mix of fury and heartbreak.

"No choice? You all always have a choice, Wilson. But you chose to sacrifice innocent lives for some twisted idea of the greater good."

Wilson opened his mouth to reply, but the words caught in his throat.

He looked down, unable to face the raw pain in Dustin's eyes.

"If you want to punish me, then I will gladly take it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I deserve it."

Suddenly, the air crackled with a strange energy.

A portal tore open behind Wilson, its edges glowing with a sinister light.

Before he could react, a massive, clawed hand shot out, wrapping around Wilson with a vice-like grip.

The hand was grotesque, a monstrous appendage that seemed to shimmer with a dark, otherworldly power.

"Go ahead," Wilson said, closing his eyes, bracing himself for the punishment he felt he deserved.

But then, unexpectedly, the hands disappeared, leaving Wilson to fall to the ground, bewildered.

"Dustin...!" he gasped, looking up in confusion.

"Don't misunderstand," Dustin said, his voice cold but controlled.

"I will make you all pay for what you've done, but first, I will listen to the final story of the monster you all created."

Dustin turned and started to move out of the café, his back rigid with determination.

Wilson watched him go, a mix of relief and sorrow swirling within him.

Memories flooded back, moments from when they were young, ambitious 2-star officers, full of hope and integrity.

He remembered how Dustin had been the first to reach the level of General, a prestigious achievement that could have taken him to great heights.

Yet, Dustin had rejected the promotion, choosing instead to stay a superintendent to support Wilson, to stand by his friend.

Dustin had always been a beacon of loyalty and moral fortitude, sacrificing his own advancement for the sake of friendship.

And now, the same man who had once been his greatest ally was walking away, a figure of relentless justice, determined to uncover the truth no matter the personal cost.

Wilson's heart ached with the weight of his betrayal.

He had let down not just a colleague, but a friend who had always believed in him, stood by him.

The café's warm, familiar ambiance now felt suffocating, filled with the ghosts of their shared past.

"Dustin," Wilson called softly, but his voice barely reached above a whisper.

He knew Dustin couldn't hear him, and even if he did, there were no words left that could mend the rift between them.

As Dustin pushed open the café door, a sliver of sunlight poured in, casting a long shadow behind him.

He paused for a moment, the weight of the past and the uncertain future pressing down on him.

Then, with a deep breath, he stepped out into the light, ready to confront the darkness that had consumed their world.

Wilson watched until the door swung shut, leaving him in a silence that echoed with regret and lost opportunities.

He knew that Dustin's quest for truth was just beginning, and he could only hope that someday, somehow, he might find a way to atone for his part in the tragedy that had befallen them all.