As soon as I climbed over the wall, I froze in disbelief. There, standing beside Nero, wasn’t just Ethan—but two Ethans. The sight sent a shiver down my spine. They were identical in every way, down to the worry on their faces. None of us knew who the real Ethan was, except for the two Ethans themselves.

Nero, looking as composed as he could under the circumstances, said sharply, “We don’t have time to figure out who’s who. We take them both!” Without hesitation, Nero grabbed one Ethan, hoisting him over his shoulder. I crouched down and helped the other Ethan onto my back, ignoring the heavy weight of confusion pressing down on my mind.

We bolted along the prison's riverbank, following the edge of the River A'ab. My breath came in short gasps, the sound of rushing water matching the pounding in my chest. But then, disaster struck. My foot hit a jagged stone hidden in the grass, and I stumbled hard, falling forward. The Ethan on my back tumbled off, and both Ethans, along with Nero, rushed to help me.

As Nero pulled me to my feet, he slipped a gun into my hand. “I don’t know what might happen next,” he said, his voice low and serious. “But we need to be ready. Stay alert.”

I nodded, gripping the gun tightly. The weight of it felt unnatural in my hand, but I knew there was no room for hesitation now. We took off running again, the Ethans both keeping pace as the tension between them grew palpable. The mystery of who the real Ethan was hung over us like a storm cloud, but survival was all that mattered now.

Just as we were about to run, the tension broke like a snapped wire. Nathaniel stepped out of the shadows, a gun in hand, and pointed it directly at Nero. His cold, calculated voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Stop right there... Nero."

Nero turned to face him, his expression sharp. "Huh... Are you out of your mind? We're in a situation of life and death."

Nathaniel smirked, his grip steady on the weapon. "And the player controlling this game... is me."

Nero narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

Nathaniel replied with unnerving calmness. "I allow Grace and the twins to keep moving. But you, Nero, will stay right here."

I felt my chest tighten as Nathaniel motioned for me and the two Ethans to continue. Reluctantly, I obeyed, knowing there was no other option. With every step away, the weight in my heart grew heavier. As we ran, I couldn’t shake the dread, a single thought echoing in my mind: Nero, please be okay. We’ll come back for you. We’ll rescue you, find out which Ethan is real, and put an end to this twisted game of the Ghost.

And then, as if summoned by my very thoughts, the Ghost appeared before us. He seemed to rise from the shadows, his presence suffocating. His pale mask glinted in the dim light, and his voice dripped with malice.

"Where do you think you’re going? The only destination for you... is Hell."

My legs froze as a wave of fear washed over me. Anger sparked deep inside me, but it was no match for the terror gripping my soul. Gritting my teeth, I managed to retort, "You’re not the one to judge if I’m going to Hell or not."

The Ghost tilted his head, his tone mocking yet final. "This... is my judgment. And my judgment... is your fate."

His words reverberated in my ears like the toll of a bell. My hands trembled as I clenched the gun Nero had handed me. My mind raced with a thousand possibilities, but only one thing was clear—this was far from over.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I raised the gun Nero had given me and pointed it directly at the Ghost. My hands shook, but I was determined to end this nightmare.

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He remained as calm and unshaken as ever, his cold eyes boring into mine. His voice was deep and steady, like an unyielding storm.

**"Your toy isn’t going to do anything,"** he said, almost dismissively.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand tall. **"So what do you think you are? Do you consider yourself a superhuman? Or—"**

Before I could finish, his voice cut through mine like a knife. **"I am not a superhuman... I am a kid."**

The absurdity of his words caught me off guard. **"Your phrases don’t even make sense,"** I snapped, trying to regain control.

He tilted his head slightly, his tone eerily calm. **"Does it have to make sense?"**

Before I could respond, one of the Ethans—real or fake, I didn’t know—stepped forward. With a sudden burst of motion, he grabbed the gun from my hands and pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit the Ghost in the shoulder, and blood began to seep through his coat. But he didn’t flinch, didn’t stagger. He stood there as if nothing had happened, his cold presence more terrifying than ever.

His deep, resonant voice broke the silence again. **"Nathaniel... has died."**

The words hung heavy in the air, each one more chilling than the last. My grip tightened around nothing now that the gun was gone. My heart raced, and I could feel the weight of something far darker than we could comprehend pressing down on all of us.

As the Ghost's chilling words faded into the cold night air, the other Ethan, the one who hadn’t fired the gun, erupted in rage.

**"YOU LIED... I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"**

He charged toward the Ghost, fury burning in his eyes. But before he could even get close, the Ghost calmly raised his gun. His voice, as steady and cold as death itself, rang out.

**"Farewell... Boyd Sterling."**

The shot rang out, and everything froze. Boyd crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

I stood there, stunned, as the truth settled over me like a suffocating weight. The other Ethan wasn’t a clone or some twisted double. He was Boyd Sterling—Ethan’s twin brother.

But the shock hit Ethan harder than anyone. His face contorted, his wide eyes filling with a mixture of grief and disbelief. Boyd, his brother, had been alive this whole time—alive and right in front of him since the morning. And now... he was just a corpse.

**"Boyd..."** Ethan whispered, his voice trembling. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stumbled toward his brother's body. But grief quickly turned into rage.

He grabbed the gun again and pointed it directly at the Ghost. His hands trembled with a mix of fury and despair.

But before he could pull the trigger, a voice called out from behind us.

"Ethan, stop!"

We all turned to see Nero approaching, carrying a barely conscious Nathaniel on his back. His voice was firm, yet tinged with exhaustion.

"This isn’t the way," Nero continued, his eyes locking onto Ethan’s. "If you do this, you’ll become the very thing he wants you to be. Don’t let him win."

Ethan’s hands quivered, the weight of the gun almost too much to bear as his emotions warred within him. And in that moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance—the weight of all our choices pulling us toward an uncertain and dangerous future

.

As the tension in the air thickened, the Ghost's cold demeanor suddenly cracked. His voice, usually so steady and terrifying, trembled.

"M-Mr. N-Nero..."

Slowly, the Ghost raised his hands to his mask. With shaking fingers, he removed it, revealing a familiar face beneath.

"Dorian...?" I gasped, unable to believe what I was seeing.

Dorian’s eyes were filled with tears, but his expression was one of strange relief, almost as if he had been waiting for this moment. He looked directly at Nero, a warm, yet heartbreaking smile spreading across his face.

"Did I repay the favor, Mr. Nero?" he asked, his voice soft and broken.

Nero's expression shifted from confusion to anger, then sorrow. He took a step forward, his tone sharp but tinged with desperation.

"What do you think you’re doing, Dorian? What is this madness?"

But Dorian only smiled wider, tears streaming down his face.

"I wasn’t of any use," he whispered. "I was ashamed... I wanted to be someone worthy of your trust. To make amends for all the times I failed you."

And before any of us could stop him, Dorian raised the gun to his temple.

"Goodbye... Mr. Nero," he said softly, the warm smile still lingering on his lips.

The gunshot echoed through the night, silencing everything. Dorian’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Nero froze, his face an unreadable mask, though his clenched fists and trembling shoulders betrayed his emotions. Ethan, still clutching the gun, sank to the ground next to Boyd’s lifeless body, while I stood frozen, unable to process the whirlwind of chaos that had just unfolded.

Nero finally knelt down beside Dorian, his voice low and strained.

"You fool... you didn’t need to repay anything."

The words hung heavy in the air as silence swallowed us once again, leaving only the sound of the river and the haunting weight of everything we had lost.