Angela's breath came in sharp, panicked gasps, her chest rising and falling as the last remnants of shock faded from her eyes.

She looked at me, her gaze piercing through the dim light of the room, her voice trembling but laced with a newfound steel. "Who—what are you?" she demanded, her fingers tightening around the glass of water until her knuckles turned white. "Are you really... the Devil?"

I studied her, genuinely surprised by how quickly she had pulled herself together. Most people would still be trembling in a corner, broken by what they'd just witnessed. But not Angela.

She had steadied herself in minutes, her mind already working, analyzing, adapting. A slow, dangerous smile played at the corners of my lips. "Are you not afraid?" I asked, my voice low, almost amused.

She looked down, her fingers tracing the rim of the glass before she shook her head. "No," she said, her voice steady, almost defiant. "I'm not afraid." She lifted her gaze to meet mine, her eyes burning with a mix of defiance and something darker—resignation, perhaps, or acceptance. "Because if you wanted to hurt me... You could've done that already."

I tilted my head, intrigued. She was right. And that made her far more interesting than I'd initially thought.

She took a deep breath, her shoulders squaring as if bracing herself for something. "And I'm sorry," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"For my previous behavior. For the threats, the manipulation... all of it." She hesitated, her gaze flickering with something raw—regret, shame, or maybe just the weight of her own desperation.

Angela's voice cracked, her composure fracturing just enough to reveal the raw, desperate fear beneath. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. But I hope... You let my daughters go." Her fingers twisted in her lap, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

"They're innocent. If you want to punish me—" She swallowed hard, her chin trembling. "Then punish me."

I moved closer, my fingers gently brushing against her cheek, feeling the heat of her skin, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. My gaze flickered down for just a moment—her breath made her chest rise and fall in a way that was impossible to ignore—but I forced my attention back to her face. My voice was soft, almost tender. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Or them."

She exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, but her eyes remained wide, searching mine for any sign of deception.

I sat down beside her, close enough that she could feel the weight of my presence, the unspoken power radiating from me. "My name is Dexter," I said, my voice low, measured. "I'm just a human. With special powers." A pause. "And I came here from the future."

Angela's breath hitched. Her eyes widened, her mind clearly racing to process what I'd just said. "But... why haven't we known?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "If someone like you existed..."

She seemed to catch herself, shaking her head slightly as if trying to regain her composure. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, her voice steadier now, though her hands still trembled. "I don't mean to pry."

I studied her—the fear in her eyes, the way her body had gone rigid, the way she was struggling to reconcile the woman who had threatened me just moments ago with the vulnerable figure in front of me now. "It's okay," I said, my voice calm. "To tell you."

I leaned back slightly, my gaze distant for a moment before returning to her. "I am from the future, but not the same world as yours. You could say it was an accident that I arrived here." A faint, dangerous smile touched my lips. "And for now... my purpose is to rule over this world."

Angela's eyes widened in shock. "Rule over this world?!" she repeated, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself, her hand flying to her mouth as if to stifle the words.

I watched her carefully, my expression unreadable. "Now," I said, my voice shifting to something more commanding, "can you tell me about your situation? And about the Exodus Protocol?"

Angela hesitated, her mind clearly racing. She looked at me, her expression a mix of fear, curiosity, and something else—something like resignation. She knew she was standing at the edge of a precipice, and one wrong word could send her tumbling over.

But she also knew she had no choice.

Angela's fingers trembled as she set the glass down with a sharp clink, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. She exhaled slowly, her breath shaky, her eyes locked onto mine with a mix of fear and resignation.

"The Exodus Protocol..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "isn't just a research initiative." She paused, her throat tightening as if the words themselves were a burden. "It's the last hope humanity had."

Her gaze flickered away, her mind clearly drifting back to memories she'd tried to bury. "In 2045," she continued, her voice growing steadier but laced with a raw, desperate edge, "after we realized that if we didn't do something, the human race would perish... every government in the world gathered the brightest minds, the most ruthless strategists, the most brilliant scientists." Her fingers twisted in her lap, her knuckles whitening.

Angela's voice trembled as she continued, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "We were given one mission: find a solution to the virus... or develop a technology that could produce food, sustain life, save us." Her lips pressed into a thin line, her expression darkening.

"But as time went by... all the rich and influential people started getting involved in the game of power. They wanted to ensure their survival." Her voice turned bitter, her eyes flashing with remembered fury. "And one of them was Walter—Tyler's father."

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "He somehow seized control of the entire project. Became a ruler of that world. Killed everyone who opposed him... and forced all the remaining people into research." Her hands clenched into fists, her knuckles whitening. "He turned the Exodus Protocol into his personal weapon. A way to control who lived and who died."

Her voice cracked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But even then... it was already too late." She shook her head, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "The virus had spread too far. The crops were failing. The air was poisoned. We were running out of time." Her gaze met mine, haunted. "And then we found it."

I leaned forward, my voice low, urgent. "Found what?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.