Gene’s Trial… and the Refuge — Chapter 10 Part 2

Ana, in the Corridor — Shadows of All-Seeing Eyes

Ana did not know exactly why she stopped there, behind the partition, when she heard low voices in the courtyard. Maybe it was just curiosity. Maybe just envy.
All she knew was that she could not stop listening.

And there they were — Daime and Theo.

She could not catch every word, but she could feel the tones:
the bitterness in Daime,
the thick silence of Theo,
and then the cutting question that made Theo raise his eyes like a wounded beast.

Ana felt sick when she realized what Daime was implying.
And she felt even worse when she saw that Theo… did not deny it.

Suddenly, everything made sense — the looks, the training sessions, the heavy silences.

And deep down, Ana felt a fear disguised as hatred:

hatred of Ceres for always being the chosen one,
hatred of Theo for being too strong to hesitate,
hatred of herself for not having been the one in Ceres's place in that gymnasium.

Ana retreated into the shadows when Daime left the courtyard, and stayed there alone, biting her lips, trying not to cry.

Feeling small.

And, at the same time, dangerous.

The Informer Everyone Envies

After Gene's execution in Plaza D, an icy silence hung over the school.

No one dared speak too loudly about what Theo had done — but everyone knew.

To some, Theo was now an informer. A traitor. Unworthy of trust.

They whispered when he walked through the corridors.
Some turned their faces away.
Others simply lowered their heads, pretending he did not exist.

But behind the disgust they pretended to feel, there was something deeper:

envy.

Because, deep down, they all wanted to be like Theo.

They all had their secret desires.

They had all dreamed of Mother Ceres in indecent ways.

They were all afraid they were not worthy of her.

Gene, they thought, might have gone too far.

It was not only what he had done...

It was how he had done it:

cursing Mother.

Spitting on her name.

Calling the city that fed them a whore and a traitor.

Theo had transgressed too — but at least he had loved Mother in the process.

Even if it was a filthy, sick love.

It was love.

And that, in Ceres, was still permitted.

In the end, the lesson echoing through the corridors was simple:

If you are going to sin with Mother, let it be to love her. Not to insult her.

Theo, alone in the courtyard, felt every stare like a nail driven into flesh.

And still, he remained upright.

Calm.

Carrying the weight of Gene.

Of Ceres.

Of the entire city.

And of his own heart in flames.

Theo's Monologue

“They look at me as if I were a worm. As if they were different from me.
As if they didn't dream, at night, of grabbing Mother Ceres by the neck and forcing her to scream their names.
Hypocrites.

I did what none of them had the courage to do.
I devoured her.
I loved her with the rage they hide because they are afraid of burning.

Gene…
You were just another weakling who didn't understand the rule: if you're going to sin with Mother, let it be to love her.
Not to spit into her lap.
Not to call her a whore and then ask for more.

You deserved every flame.
I deserve my own pyre too — I know that.
But the difference is that I smile while I burn.

Now they call me an informer.
They think that diminishes me.

But every one of them wanted to be me.
Every one of them wanted to smell Mother the way I did that night.
The fear in her eyes.
The pleasure when I hurt her.

And Ceres…
Ceres still looks at me as if she doesn't know whether she hates me or loves me.
And that's fine. I don't know either.

I only know that, that night, I devoured them both. Mother and daughter.
And ever since then, nothing satisfies me.”

Ceres's Thoughts

“He's not the same anymore.

Ever since that night in the gymnasium… Theo never came back whole.

He looks at me from a distance now. With those heavy eyes, as if he were still holding my neck even without touching me. As if silently telling me that I belong to him — even though no one belongs to anyone here.

And I feel it.

I feel how he burned inside when he betrayed Gene.

I feel how he burned me inside when he took me… and how I liked it anyway.

I hate liking it.

I hate that every time our eyes meet in the cafeteria, on the court, in the hallway… my breath catches.

I see the same beast in him from that night.

He devoured me to take revenge on Mother.

He used me to spit in the city's face.

And still, every time he looks at me… I think:

‘If you want me again, Theo… I'll let you.’

Because I want to be strong like you, too.

And maybe… maybe I only feel alive when you hold me tight.”

The Look in the Courtyard

The cold afternoon sun fell over the concrete courtyard. The entire school seemed to whisper, but no one dared speak loudly when Theo passed.

They now called him only “informer” behind his back. But they still respected him. They still feared him.

And Ceres felt the weight of that name every time she saw him from afar, leaning against the low wall, far too quiet, his hands in his pockets.

She walked slowly, feeling everyone's eyes on her — and ignoring them.

When she passed him, she felt it.

She smelled him again.

And the look.

Theo raised his face.

Her eyes met his.

For a moment, no one else existed.

She held her breath.

So did he.

There was no anger in that look.

There was something worse: that ancient, nameless hunger they had both carried since the night in the gymnasium.

And shame, too.

And desire.

She tried to smile, just slightly, just to see what would happen.

He did not smile back. He merely tilted his head — as if saying: “I can still break you whenever I want.”

But she noticed — deep down — that he was afraid too.

Afraid of her.

Afraid of what she did to him.

And then she walked on.

Without a word.

But they had already said enough in that silence for everyone around them to understand:

that story was not over yet.

INVITATION TO OPLON, THE WHITE SHIELD

“Mother Ceres extends her hand even to those who wish to cut her.”

With that announcement, School 401 received the official order: a friendly match of Flagball and Ornamental Diving would take place in the racist city of Oplon, known among the young as the White Shield, headquarters of the ethnic regime led by dictator Alac Bilac.

The names of those summoned were posted in the communal wing.

At the top of the list, Theo — the silent leader.

And right below him, a name that rekindled traumas and half-healed hatreds:

Dark.

Dark, the same one who had been punished for failing to alert the Silencers about the strange dogs in the city of Ceres — the same dogs that had flooded the field with blood, leaving a trail of marks in their memories.

Dark, who had been held in disciplinary detention indefinitely, was now released exclusively for the match and preparatory training, under surveillance and with restricted lodging inside the school itself.

After the friendly match, he would return to the Correctional Center.

That was the price of victory.

And Mother Ceres would not lose.

At the same time, Ceres and Ana — the two former rivals — were called upon to represent the city in Synchronized Ornamental Diving, also part of the diplomatic competitions in Oplon.

For the first time, Ceres would lead the dive.

Ana accepted the position without protest, but the atmosphere between the two remained one of icy silence.

The dive, however, required absolute synchronization — something pride could not prevent.

The competition in Oplon was not merely athletic.

It was ideological.

It was diplomatic.

And, for many, it was personal.

On the field, Theo would have to play alongside Dark.

In the pool, Ceres would have to trust Ana.

And everywhere, the eyes of the White Shield would be ready to judge Ceres's every gesture — waiting for her to fail.

But Ceres does not fail.

Ceres survives.

Theo's Thoughts

Convincing Dark was the challenge within the challenge.

The game in Oplon was only the showcase — the real battlefield came first: in the locker room, inside his mind, amid the wreckage of that shattered trust from long ago.

Dark trusted no one. Not even himself.

He was there by direct order of Mother Ceres — released from his cell only because they knew he was good.

Too good to be ignored.

Too good to be free.

And Theo… Theo had more to lose.

If Dark failed, Theo would fall. Theo would answer for it.

No emotional appeal would work.

No patriotic speech would seduce him.

Dark did not play for love. He did not play for honor.

He played because he was wild. And wild things, when unleashed, only answer to something worse than themselves.

Or to someone who truly sees them.

Theo knew he had to reach that point.

Convince Dark not with promises, but with risk.

With the weight of knowing that, if everything went wrong, he would fall with him.

Equal. Side by side. Without a shield, without forgiveness.

That was it.

Theo did not want a team.

He wanted an alliance with the unpredictable.

And that, in Ceres, was almost asking for a miracle.

But miracles… Mother Ceres does not grant them.

She tests.

The Conversation in the Locker Room

The locker room is almost empty after practice for Oplon.

Only Ana remains seated on the bench, barefoot, her hair still wet from the pool.

Ceres enters. Cold footsteps against the tiles.

Ana does not even raise her head:

— Are you going to punish me if I don't dive?

Ceres forces herself to keep her voice controlled, though the anger still burns:

— I'm not here to punish anyone. I'm here to make sure you do your job.

Ana smiles dismissively:

— I don't need a lecture.

(with more venom)

— Your friend sold his own friend out to earn a star on his uniform.

(Heavy silence. Ceres closes her eyes for a second so she won't scream.)

— If I had a choice — Ceres says coldly — you wouldn't be here.

But I can't afford to lose the only diver who can still achieve a perfect score.

Not even Mother Ceres.

Ana raises her eyes. For the first time, they stare directly at each other:

— So that's it? You'll swallow everything just to please Mother?

Ceres takes a step forward. Now they are only inches apart.

— No. It's not to please Mother. It's to keep the city alive.

And no matter how much you hate me, Ana… you live here too.

Silence.

Ana falters.

For a moment, it seems as though she hears her.

— And you think that erases what you did to him? — Ana insists, like a thorn.

Ceres feels the blow.

But she does not break.

She answers coldly:

— No. It doesn't erase it.

Ana did not expect that answer.

There, in that small acknowledgment, the first crack appears in her resistance.

She simply lowers her eyes and begins putting on her sneakers.

Ceres concludes firmly:

— We don't need to be friends, Ana. But if you have even a shred of love for this city, you'll dive beside me in Oplon.

Ana does not answer.

She simply stands, picks up her bag and, before leaving, murmurs:

— I'll dive… but not for you.

Ceres watches her leave, with the strange feeling that, despite everything, this is a victory.

The locker-room door echoes as it closes behind Ana.

Ceres remains motionless for a long time, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

The distant sound of the pool resembles the heartbeat of the city — slow, indifferent.

When she finally takes a deep breath, she realizes that her shoulders ache — she had been tense the entire time.

She walks slowly toward one of the locker-room mirrors.

Looking at her own reflection had always been an almost automatic habit:

touching up her hair, adjusting her posture, practicing the firm gaze everyone expected from her.

But now, all she sees is exhaustion.

Her eyes are still as blue as the sky of Ceres,

but beneath them are new shadows — deep circles from nights of poor sleep.

For a moment, she thinks of Theo.

Of how everything became… wrong.

She no longer knows whether she still believes in what she did for Mother Ceres —

or whether she believes it justifies the way he looks at her now.

As if she were an enemy.

Ana was right:

she betrayed someone she loved.

And why?

Just to wear the star on her uniform?

Just to be the favorite?

She closes her eyes, fighting the tightness in her throat.

Don't cry.

She can't cry.

Instead, she raises her head again.

Forces a cold smile at the mirror.

Practices the firm gaze, as if speaking to herself:

— No one will break me.

But even as she says it aloud,

she knows something has already broken inside —

and it wasn't only Theo.

It was her, too.

“In the Locker Room — Theo, Dark and the Silencers”

The smell of sweat and disinfectant filled the locker room as the team changed.

The coach was saying something about tactics for facing Oplon, but no one was really listening.

An unspoken name still hung in the air like toxic smoke.

Gene.

No one said it.

Not even the coach.

Dark was leaning against the wall, laughing softly, with that look of a bored beast.

And now he was watching Theo like someone choosing his next prey.

The Silencers were there too.

Silence weighed heavily.

Suddenly, Dark's deep voice cut through the air:

— So, hero. Happy? Sold out your friend. Got your little star.

And now? You gonna sell the rest of us out too? Or are you just gonna stand there, playing Mother Ceres's perfect son?

Theo felt his face burn.

No one defended him.

Not even the coach.

His hands closed around the star-shaped pin attached to his shirt.

It was light, but it seemed to weigh tons.

The symbol of everything he had achieved.

And everything he had lost.

He looked at Dark, at those blue, murderous eyes.

He looked at his teammates — all of them looked away, caught somewhere between fear and contempt.

And then he looked at the Silencers: motionless, impassive.

Theo pulled the star from his chest.

He looked at it for a second.

Then he crushed it in his palm until the metal bent and cut into his fingers.

He threw it into the locker-room trash with a dry sound.

And exploded:

— I don't want gifts! — he shouted. His voice broke, but came loaded with rage and pain. — I just wanted Mother Ceres to love me the way I love her!

The entire locker room fell silent.

Even Dark became serious, his mouth slightly open — as if he had not expected to hear that.

And in that instant, everyone understood:

Theo was not merely an informer.

He was a wounded son, trying to earn love on the battlefield.

The Silencers exchanged glances.

The coach cleared his throat awkwardly.

And Dark simply gave a crooked smile, muttering:

— Good luck with that, champion.

Theo grabbed his towel and walked out without looking at anyone, leaving the crushed star behind.

The locker room remained silent after the door slammed.

Dark stayed there, motionless for several seconds, staring at the trash can where Theo's metal star lay, twisted.

The coach tried to resume his speech.

The Silencers, silent, were already mentally recording every detail to report.

Dark walked over to the trash.

He bent down without hurry and picked up the crushed medal between his fingers.

He turned it beneath the fluorescent light.

The deformed metal reflected a dull, ugly color — like the broken glory Theo had just spat away.

Dark smiled.

One of those thin, poisonous smiles only he knew how to give.

— Yeah, Mother Ceres… — he murmured to himself, ironically — you really know how to play with your little children.

He slipped the star into his pocket as if keeping an extracted tooth.

A macabre talisman.

A reminder of what Mother Ceres was capable of doing — to the loyal and to the rebellious alike.

And then, without looking at anyone, he went to his locker, whistling a soft and indecent melody.

In his mind, he was already imagining the moment he would rub it in Theo's face.

Or perhaps he wouldn't even need to.

Sometimes, all it takes is having a piece of someone's pain to hold them in the palm of your hand.

Dark kept whistling.

And the entire locker room felt a chill when they heard it.

The Weight and the Sin

The locker room was already empty when Theo returned later to retrieve his towel.

Dark was still there, sitting on the bench, spinning the crushed medal between his fingers like a coin.

Theo stopped at the door.

He looked at Dark.

He looked at the pocket of Dark's sweatshirt, where the medal now rested — a crooked piece of metal that weighed like lead on Theo's conscience.

And nothing at all on Dark's.

Because Dark did not feel the weight.

Dark devoured sins and smiled, as if they were dessert.

Theo took a deep breath and said, quietly, hoarsely:

— Keep it, then. It's yours now.

Dark slowly raised his eyes, with that sharp look that mixed contempt and pleasure.

He put the medal in his pocket.

He stood with the calmness of a predator who already knows its prey has nowhere to run.

— I know — he simply replied.

The atmosphere between them heated up right there.

The Silencers noticed.

The other boys felt it, even without speaking:

Mother Ceres was setting the two of them against each other, her two favorite sons, testing them, playing with them like cats play with mice.

It was impossible not to smell the tension — as if the fight could begin right there at any moment.

But Dark was non-negotiable.

He was in no hurry.

He wanted the pleasure of waiting.

He wanted the amusement of watching the “prince of Mother Ceres” bleed slowly, just to kill time.

And Theo felt it.

He felt that no matter what he said, no matter how he defended himself, the fight was going to happen.

It was inevitable.

Dark took a step toward the door, but before leaving, he stopped, turned around, and said with a wicked little smile:

— After your brother's rocket, Theo…

— …

— I'm not going to ruin Mother Ceres's show before the time comes.

Theo clenched his fists.

Blood pulsed at his temples.

And when Dark left, Theo remained there alone, staring at the bench, the floor, the walls.

And for the first time, he had the strange sensation that his own heart was in Dark's pocket — beside that crushed medal.

Bargaining and Venom

The locker room still smelled of sweat and disinfectant.

Dark came back and leaned against the locker, spinning the crushed medal between his fingers like a crooked talisman.

Theo stopped in front of him, his chest heavy and his eyes blazing.

— After the rocket launch… — Theo began, his voice low but firm — …I'll accept your fight.

— Oh? — Dark raised an eyebrow, already interested. — You're gonna stop hiding behind Mommy's skirt? How cute.

Theo ignored the provocation.

— But before that… I want you to actually play in Oplon.

— Actually play? — Dark laughed, a dry, mocking laugh. — Why?

— Because Mother Ceres won't accept another humiliation.

Because I won't accept another humiliation.

Dark stopped playing with the medal.

His expression changed for a second — serious, predatory, assessing Theo as a worthy rival.

Then he smiled.

A broad, poisonous smile.

— Deal — he said.

Then he leaned in, moving close to Theo's ear, his voice lower and crueler:

— But if I win… I'm going to fuck Ceres.

For a second, everything went silent.

Even the Silencers at the door shifted uncomfortably, as if they could sense the explosion coming.

And it did.

Theo clenched his fist and punched Dark square in the face, a dry crack echoing through the locker room.

Dark staggered half a step backward, brought a hand to his jaw and… laughed.

Laughed loudly, genuinely.

— Ahhh… — he said, still laughing. — So he knows how to hit.

Dark raised his eyes toward Theo, who was already in position, ready for more.

Dark then stepped forward and returned the punch, hitting Theo in the stomach and knocking the air out of him.

And the two grappled.

Punches, elbows, curses spat quietly through clenched teeth.

The dry sound of flesh against flesh, ragged breathing, pure hatred.

The Silencers stepped in at exactly the right moment, grabbing both of them before anyone could bleed any more.

Dark let himself be pulled away, still laughing from the corner of his mouth, a thin line of blood running down his chin.

And as he was dragged away, he shouted over his shoulder:

— I'm just messing with you!

— You've got a strong punch, huh…

— What, you upset, prince?

Theo stood there, breathing heavily, his fist still clenched, feeling the hot blood boiling in his face and chest.

Dark was gone, but the taste of the challenge remained.

And so did the promise.