Thud! Felix's head throbbed as he forced his eyes open. The room spun, a nauseating whirl of gray concrete and flickering fluorescent lights. Through the blur, a man loomed in the open doorway, his crisp black uniform adorned with the Technate's angular flag—a cold, metallic emblem pinned to his chest.
"Carter, who are these people?" the sergeant barked, his voice sharp as a blade.
"They were with the Intermarium army," Carter replied, his tone flat. Felix's heart lurched. Carter stood by the door, clutching a cellphone. The betrayal hit like a punch—Carter had sold them out.
Regret clawed at Felix's mind. Kip's warning echoed: "Never trust a Technate rat, Felix. They'll turn faster than a drone's rotor." Why hadn't he listened? His friends—Kip and Nova—lay slumped against the wall, unconscious, their shallow breaths the only sign of life. Felix tried to stand, but his limbs felt like lead, the drug's icy grip coursing through his veins.
"Y-You bb-betray us, C-Carter," Felix rasped, his tongue thick and sluggish.
Carter's eyes flicked away, just for a moment, before he said to the officer, "Load them in the truck."
The sergeant hoisted Felix over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Felix thrashed weakly, but the man's grip was iron, unyielding. The cold air hit as they stepped outside, where a medical truck waited, its Red Cross emblem gleaming falsely under the sunlight. The sergeant dumped Felix into a hard metal seat, the thick seatbelt snapping shut like a trap.
Felix replied weakly, "L-L-Lll me g-go you B-Bastard."
The sergeant ignored him, pulling a cloth from the pocket of his jacket and a small bottle from a humming medical fridge. The sharp, chemical reek of chloroform flooded Felix's senses as the soaked cloth pressed over his nose. He clawed at the air before darkness swallowed him, hope slipping away like sand through his fingers.