can't make a choice

Chapter 1: The Château's Secrets

The winding road to the château was cloaked in mist, the headlights of their rented car barely piercing through the gray shroud. Amelia sat in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the looming silhouette ahead. The château rose like a ghost from the countryside, its pointed towers clawing at the overcast sky. Overgrown ivy snaked across the cracked stone walls, and the wrought-iron gate hung on its hinges as if the place had been abandoned for centuries. Yet the four occupants of the car knew better.

"This is it," Finn said quietly, his voice a steady whisper. He was in the back seat, leaning forward between Amelia and Victor as he studied the structure. "The last place they'd expect us to come. But that doesn't mean it's safe."

Victor, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, cast a wary glance at Finn in the rearview mirror. "You've been here before?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Finn hesitated for a moment too long. "No. But I've seen the plans."

Victor scoffed, muttering something under his breath as he brought the car to a stop a few hundred meters from the gate. Elena, sitting silently next to Finn, reached for the pistol tucked into her jacket. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal as she surveyed the château, her expression unreadable.

"We don't have time for second guesses," she said finally, breaking the tension. "If we're doing this, let's do it now."

The group exited the car in silence, their boots crunching against gravel as they approached the gate. Amelia's heart thudded against her ribs, but she forced herself to stay calm. The artifact she carried in her bag—a small, intricately engraved relic—seemed to grow heavier with each step. She had no idea why it was so important to The Architect, but its significance was undeniable.

Finn reached the gate first, his movements practiced and precise. He knelt down, pulling a small lockpick from his coat pocket. Victor stood close behind him, watching every move like a hawk.

"If you're setting us up, Finn—"

"I'm not," Finn interrupted, not looking up. "You think I'd still be here if I was working with them? Trust me or don't, but I'm not here to die for you."

The lock clicked open, and the gate creaked loudly as Finn pushed it inward. They slipped inside, staying close to the shadows as they approached the château's main entrance. The front door was ajar, a foreboding welcome that set Amelia's nerves on edge.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp wood and decay. Dust swirled in the faint beams of moonlight streaming through cracked windows, and the faint scurrying of rats echoed in the silence. The group moved carefully, their flashlights slicing through the darkness.

"This place is a maze," Victor muttered, his voice low.

"Stay close," Finn said, leading the way.

They found themselves in a grand hall, the ceiling vaulted and adorned with faded frescoes that hinted at a long-forgotten opulence. A massive staircase dominated the room, its bannister warped and splintered. To the left, a corridor stretched into darkness, while to the right, a set of double doors hung slightly open.

"Which way?" Elena asked.

Finn hesitated, his eyes scanning the room. "Downstairs," he said finally. "If there's anything worth hiding, it'll be in the lower levels."

Victor didn't move. "How do you know that?"

Finn turned to face him, his expression calm but firm. "Because that's how The Architect operates. Every safe house, every base—it's always the same. The deeper you go, the more you find."

Reluctantly, Victor nodded, and the group descended the staircase. The air grew colder as they moved deeper into the château, the faint hum of electricity barely audible beneath their footsteps.

At the bottom of the stairs, they found themselves in a narrow hallway lined with rusted sconces. Finn led them to a heavy steel door at the end of the corridor, his flashlight illuminating a keypad mounted to the wall beside it.

"This is it," he said, exhaling slowly.

Amelia stepped forward, her pulse quickening. "Can you open it?"

Finn nodded. "Give me a minute." He pulled a small device from his bag, attaching it to the keypad. The machine emitted a soft series of beeps as Finn worked, his fingers moving with practiced precision.

Behind them, Victor and Elena stood guard, their weapons drawn. The oppressive silence of the château pressed in on them, broken only by the faint hum of the device.

"Almost there," Finn murmured.

Suddenly, a loud click echoed through the hallway, and the steel door creaked open. Finn stepped back, his face pale but determined. "We're in."

The room beyond was dimly lit, lined with shelves filled with folders, maps, and strange objects that seemed ancient and out of place. Amelia's flashlight landed on a table in the center of the room, where a single item sat: a leather-bound journal embossed with The Architect's symbol.

"This has to be it," she whispered, stepping forward.

Before she could reach it, a faint noise behind them made her freeze. The sound of footsteps—soft but deliberate—echoed through the hallway.

"We're not alone," Elena hissed, raising her weapon.

The group turned toward the door, their flashlights cutting through the darkness. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, a voice rang out from the shadows, calm and cold.

"Well done, Finn. I knew you'd lead them here."

Amelia's blood ran cold as a figure stepped into the light—a man dressed in black, his face obscured by a mask.

Finn's hands clenched into fists. "Nadia," he said quietly.

The tension in the room was palpable, the group frozen as the masked figure tilted her head, a sinister smile evident in her voice.

"Shall we begin?"