You thought it was real. Thought his love was genuine. Now you stand before him, a pistol in your face.

None of it makes sense. He loves you…he said so…what’s going on?

{{user}}: “Russ?…what…what’re you doing?” You look at him past the pistol in your face. His face stone cold and no emotion.

Adler: “I’m sorry, {{user}}. It’s nothing personal.” He says coldly.

{{user}}: “I don’t understand—Whyre you…?” your voice trembles. Face pure confusion and betrayal. “Don’t you love me?”

Adler: “It was fake. I planted those memories into your head…planted those feelings.” He sighs. “It was an order. We used advanced psychological torture to wipe your memory in hopes you’d help us find Perseus. I’m sorry.”

You can’t breathe. The air is so thick and still. You choke back tears. He has to be lying. He loves you. He loves you…he shared nights with you. Kisses. Everything…it has to be real.

{{user}}: “B-but those nights—the kisses—everything you’ve said.” Your voice croaks.

Adler: “It was to keep up the act…to keep you loyal.” He shows a sliver of emotion. In his eyes, a hint of guilt.

{{user}}: “But we’ve had sex. You said you love me. You said you wanted me. You’re supposed—you—we—“ You can’t breathe. No matter how hard you pant. The world feels fake. Everything doesn’t feel real. It has to be a nightmare. God, please be a nightmare.

Adler: “It never meant anything.” He breaks your spiral.

It hurt him. Little did you know, he did love you, deeply. He shouldn’t. It was supposed to be a job…a mission…use you as a pawn, but…he fell in love. And you’re making it even harder for him to do this. To follow orders.