Alonso leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "I figured. Go on."

Chiara took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She seemed composed, but there was a tension in her shoulders that betrayed the weight of what she was about to say. When she spoke, her voice was steady, each word deliberate.

"Alonso, you've seen how they look at you—the hatred, the fear. It's not going away. If anything, it's only getting worse."

"Hardly news," Alonso replied, his tone flat. "What's your point?"

She met his gaze directly. "It's not just about you. The Oasis is holding on by a thread. Siddharth's death has left a void, and instead of pulling together, we're splintering. Your victory—fair as it was—hasn't healed those fractures. It's made you a target, a focus for all their anger and fear. They don't trust you, Alonso. They won't trust you."

Alonso's eyes narrowed slightly. "Still not hearing your point."

Her tone sharpened. "The point is, this isn't just about you anymore. If you stay here, you put everyone at risk—not just yourself."

He tilted his head, his gaze darkening. "Risk? I'm not the one causing problems, Chiara."

"No, but you are the spark. And it's not just the Oasis." She leaned forward, her words hitting like hammer blows. "It's Ayu."

Alonso's jaw tightened at the mention of her name, but he said nothing.

"If you stay," Chiara continued, her voice softening slightly, "you'll force her into a position she should never have to face. She'll have to choose between you and everyone else. And no matter what she chooses, she'll lose."

Alonso's fingers tapped once against his arm, then stilled. His eyes locked on Chiara's, unblinking.

"If she stays with you," Chiara pressed, "they'll start to resent her. Slowly at first, but it'll grow. Right now, they respect her. She fought against Hughes, and they see her strength. But their hatred for you will poison that respect. They'll turn on her, Alonso. And when they do, they won't hold back."

His jaw clenched, his muscles taut.

"And if she chooses them?" Chiara's voice dropped, her tone almost gentle. "She'll lose you. And it'll destroy her. You've seen how much she feels, how deeply everything affects her. If she distances herself from you, she'll hate herself for it. She'll carry that guilt forever."

Alonso's hand curled into a fist, the knuckles whitening. His voice, when it came, was low and sharp. "And what makes you think I'd let that happen?"

Chiara didn't flinch. "Because you don't have a choice."

Her gaze hardened, and she leaned back slightly, letting her words settle. "This group isn't like anyone on the outside. They're killers, hunters, survivors who've been through hell. They don't let go of hatred—they weaponize it. It keeps them alive. And their hatred for you? It's not going away. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Even if you leave quietly, they'll carry it with them."

She paused, exhaling. "If Ayu shows even the slightest hint of loyalty to you, she'll become their scapegoat. You can't stop that."

Alonso's voice was razor-sharp. "So, what? You want me to vanish and hope that fixes everything?"

Chiara shook her head. "Not vanish. You need to make them hate you more. Enough that there's no question of where Ayu's loyalty lies. Cut ties with her. Make her hate you. That's the only way to keep her safe."

His fist slammed onto the armrest, the sound like a thunderclap. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Listen to me, Alonso." Chiara's voice rose, firm and unyielding. "This isn't about fairness. This isn't about what you want. It's about survival—hers, yours, and humanity's. If Ayu knows about this plan, she'll fight it. She'll fight for you. And she'll die for it."

Alonso shot to his feet, his glare burning into her. "And whose fault is that? You want me to break her? To make her hate me? Because you're too weak to hold this place together?"

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Chiara's voice dropped, her tone low and cutting. "Yes, Alonso. I am weak. I'm a terrible leader. But I'm here. And I'm doing what I can to keep this place from falling apart."

She stood, meeting his gaze head-on. "If I had the strength to control them, I wouldn't be asking you to do this. But I don't. They're ruthless, strong-willed, and angrier than I'll ever be. If I can't direct that anger at you, it will tear this Oasis apart—and it will kill Ayu."

Alonso's chest heaved, his fists clenching and unclenching. "And what if I tell her? What if I walk out of here and let her make her own damn choice?"

Chiara's eyes narrowed. "Who will she believe, Alonso? The man who killed Siddharth? Or the person who stopped Hughes from violating her?"

Her words hit like a hammer, and Alonso froze. His breath hitched, his glare locked on her, unmoving, unyielding.

"That's what I thought," Chiara said, her voice soft but sharp enough to cut. "She owes me. She'll listen to me. And if you tell her about this, you'll only hurt her more. She'll hate herself for doubting you, for doubting me. And when she rushes after you—because she will—she'll die."

His hand slammed into the wall before he could stop it. The wood cracked and splintered beneath his fist, a jagged fracture spreading like a web. His voice, low and guttural, cut through the heavy silence. "You think this is a game, Chiara? You think I'll just play along with your twisted little strategy?"

Chiara stepped closer, unfazed. Her eyes locked onto his. "This isn't a game, Alonso. It's survival. You can survive alone. She can't. The rest of us can't. If you stay, we'll fall apart. If she goes with you, she dies. You know it."

She paused, her voice softening slightly but losing none of its weight. "You might not believe me, but ever since I pulled her out of Hughes' hands, I've felt responsible for her. I don't want to see her hurt—not now, not ever. More than anything, I want her to live. She's like a younger sister to me, someone I'd protect with my life. This fucking Tower doesn't leave much room for hope, but I can't let her be one more casualty."

Alonso's chest heaved, each breath shaky and shallow as Overdrive surged. The heat of it coursed through his veins, the unmistakable sign that Houston was just as furious as he was, pushing him forward.

His muscles coiled, ready to strike, his vision narrowing and locking onto Chiara like a predator eyeing its prey.

The blade in his hand trembled, its edge gleaming faintly, whispering promises. Just one swing. One clean arc. Her head would hit the floor before she even realized what happened. The image seared itself into his mind, vivid and visceral—Chiara's wide-eyed shock, blood pooling at her feet, silence reigning where her manipulative voice once commanded.

Do it. The thought burned, relentless and insidious. His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white, the blade feeling like an extension of his anger. He could kill her. He could kill them all. These killers, these scavengers masquerading as a community. Leave with Ayu. Cut through anyone who dared to stand in his way. The temptation sank deep, almost breaking him.

Chiara's breath hitched, her jaw tightening as her fingers curled into fists at her sides. Her gaze wavered for a heartbeat, but she grit her teeth, standing firm.

His hand shook. His teeth ground together. The image shifted—Ayu's face, her smile, her quiet strength. His mother, still in her coma, waiting somewhere outside this cursed Tower. Humanity. The fucking Tower. The fucking greater good. All of it crushed down on him like an avalanche.

Alonso's breath came in jagged bursts, his vision blurring at the edges. He was so close to snapping, to letting the blade answer every question.

He shut his eyes.

Inhale. Exhale.

The rage clawed at his insides, but he fought it, wrestled it down with every ounce of restraint he had left. When his eyes opened again, the fire was still there, but it simmered, controlled—for now.

His fingers loosened their death grip on the hilt. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered the blade, its tip grazing the floor. His body vibrated with unspent fury, but he didn't strike. Not here. Not now.

He stared at her, the hatred in his eyes burning like a fire barely contained. "You," he said, his voice low and venomous, "should get down on your knees and thank whatever gods or aliens you pray to that I'm walking out of here. That I care about Ayu. That I care about some people outside. Thank them, Chiara, that I am who I am… and pray I don't embrace the monster you're painting me to be."

Chiara said nothing. Her face was unreadable, her silence cutting deeper than any argument.

His lip curled, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You win."

Turning sharply, he strode toward the door, his steps deliberate and sharp. Just as his hand touched the threshold, the air shifted. A pulse—Chiara's wave.

It struck him: a cascade of images flooding his mind. Information. The tunnels. The way forward.

He froze, his back to her, every muscle coiled like a spring. His jaw clenched so tightly it felt as though it might snap. He could feel her presence behind him—calm, waiting, calculating.

The seconds stretched unbearably.

Without turning, without a single word, he pushed the door open and stepped through.

The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed in the suffocating quiet of the room.

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