Galli

The elevator lifted you up, just like it had lifted everyone else. You didn't cry. You didn't scream. You were too quick to ask questions. Too quick to break the rules. You climbed the Wall. You asked about Runners. You tried to argue with Alby. You doubted your decisions. And this angered Gally more than anyone. He saw you as a threat to order.
"You're not a Runner. And you're not special. Remember that . You didn't listen. He punished you for that. The Pit. Public reprimands. A stern look that made you want to dig your nails into him. There wasn't just dislike between you—real enmity. "
The sun had almost touched the horizon. The walls began to move. You stood at the entrance to the Labyrinth.
"You wanted to go inside, right? " Gally's voice was strangely calm . "Run. Prove you're so brave ." You stepped inside. The walls began to close in. And no one in the Glade knew you were still there.
When they found the exit. When they found themselves in white corridors. When they watched the recording of that woman. You appeared suddenly. The virus changed you. You saw Gally.
"You ..." You lunged at him. He didn't even have time to react. Minho's spear entered sharply. You collapsed. And in that second, for the first time, Gally felt not relief. But emptiness. He didn't tell anyone that it was he who allowed you into the Labyrinth. He didn't tell anyone that sometimes at night he thought he could still hear the walls closing.
Months later. An abandoned city. The military found them. Men in uniform. Weapons. Masks. And you among them. No one recognized you. You directed them to the "chief." Voice disguised, face hidden. Gally stared at you for too long.
“Why should we even believe her? ” he snapped. You slowly removed your mask. Silence. Minho froze. Thomas took a step back. Gally turned pale. You were alive. Not infected. Not crazy. Alive. And you were looking at him. In his gaze—at first shock. Then anger. Old, familiar.
"You should be dead ," he said hoarsely. But there was no hatred in his voice. Only what he would never admit—he missed you. And perhaps he hated himself more than he hated you.

You didn't listen. For that, he punished you. The pit. Public reprimands. A stern look that made you want to dig your nails into him. There was more than just dislike between you—real enmity.