The precinct door shut behind , sealing away all the noise with it. Leaving in what felt like the cold, clear air of the morning.
For a mont, I just stood there, the city moving around , people hurrying to work, and traffic rumbling. The normalcy of it all pressing in from every side in a pleasant familiarity.
I let it wash over , letting the chaos and calm blend, reminding that the world was still turning, that there was more to do.
I took out my phone, unlocking it, the screen lighting up, thankfully there wasn’t any new notification. No secret, cryptic ssages or cries of help. Just everything a regular phone should have looked like.
I opened my phone app and at the top was Anthony’s na.
I pressed call.
It rang twice before his voice ca through, bright, clear, steady.
"Boss."
"Anthony," I said, letting out a small breath. "How are you holding up?"
He chuckled, a low, warm sound.
"Better than you, I’m guessing," he said. "But really, I’m good. Feels... good, you know? To have seen it through."
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see .
"Yeah," I said. "It does."
There was a pause, the quiet between us filled with the unspoken weight of what had happened, of the blood, the fear, the relief that ca after.
Then I straightened, rolling my shoulders.
"But it’s ti," I said, my voice shifting, steady, controlled. "Ti to get back to the mission."
Anthony’s breath caught, just for a second.
"The World President," he said. "You finally ready for this?"
"I don’t have a choice. I promise you all after all." I replied. "This case, Hyena, it was important. But it was a side quest. We still have a world to save, Anthony. We still have soone to take down."
There was a mont of silence, then Anthony sighed.
"Yeah, you’re right," he said as I heard him stand up and stretch. "Damn...my workload is about to triple huh?"
"Hey! You guys were the ones who wanted this."
Either way, a month ago, I had refused to show up for the United Nations eting, ignoring their calls, their summons, even the man who was sent to get . In that mont I didn’t want to go. To many things had happened and I needed a break.
But I couldn’t avoid it forever.
The eting was in two months.
And I would be ready this ti.
I leaned against the cold tal railing outside the precinct, the city stretching out before , the wind catching at my coat, whipping it around my legs.
I had to think strategically.
This wasn’t just a eting.
It was practically a battleground.
At the minimum, everyone attending would have an A-rank job. Politicians, security, advisors—each of them with skills, techniques and motives that made them dangerous in ways the public couldn’t even begin to understand.
There was even the possibly for multiple S-ranks.
S-rank was rare. Incredibly rare. Perhaps less than 1000 in all of human history.
But the world had billions of people now. So many hidden, so many unknown, so many like Hyena—an S-rank Hacker, invisible, unnoticed, until it was too late.
And those were the people who truly held power.
Not the ones who smiled for caras.
Not the ones who signed treaties.
But the ones who could end wars with a word, collapse economies on a whim, rewrite the fabric of society with skills that felt akin to brainwashing.
That was the world I was stepping into.
And the worst part?
It wasn’t just their power that made them dangerous.
It was who they were.
Even in democratic countries, the system was rigged, twisted by the foundations and chanics of a Job Rank.
Those with higher ranks took precedence over those below, their voices louder, their decisions final.
A good leader with a B-rank could be overshadowed by a tyrant with an A-rank.
A visionary with a C-rank would be ignored, stepped over, discarded as irrelevant.
If you were unlucky enough to have a D-rank in politics, you were nothing.
A footnote.
An insect beneath the boot of those the system deed superior.
And I hated it.
I hated a system that asured a person’s worth by the rank of their job, by the strength of their skills, by the arbitrary letters that decided if you were important or disposable.
It was wrong.
It was broken.
And it needed to change.
Anthony’s voice pulled out of my thoughts, steady, resolute.
"Boss, listen. The eting is in two months," he said. "You don’t need to rush this. You’ve earned a day or two to breathe. You should rest."
I was about to argue, to tell him there was no ti, that we had to move now, to prepare, to gather intel, to plan.
But he kept going.
"I’ll start pulling files," he said. "World Leaders, their Jobs, Ranks, affiliations. I’ll get you everything you need, and I’ll send it your way once it’s compiled."
His words settled over like a warm blanket, the weight of responsibility easing, just for a mont.
I swallowed.
"Thanks, Anthony," I said quietly.
"Don’t ntion it," he replied. "You’ve done enough. Let handle this part."
There was another pause, then his voice softened.
"And Boss?"
"Yeah?"
"Take care of yourself. I don’t need the girls telling that sothing happened to you and Evelyn would kill if sothing did happen. You get what I’m saying?"
I closed my eyes, the image of Alexis at the door, her hand on my chest, the warmth in her eyes, the quiet strength in her voice.
Of Camille, curled up on the couch, her eyes following with quiet understanding.
Of Sienna, her brow furrowed in concentration as she cooked, pretending not to watch with every move.
Of Evelyn, in her room with her blindfold next to her as she reads her book that even I have difficulty understanding.
Yeah.
I know.
"I will," I said.
"Good. I’ll call when I have the files."
"Thanks."
The line went dead, the silence rushing back in, but it wasn’t heavy this ti.
It was calm.
Clear.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket, letting out a breath that fogged in the morning air.
Two months.
Two months to prepare.
Two months to gather intel, to plan, to strategize.
Two months before I would walk into a room filled with the most dangerous people on Earth, people who could tear nations apart with a gesture, people who saw the world as a chessboard, and everyone else as pieces to be moved, used, sacrificed.
Two months before I would face them.
Before I would challenge them.
Before I would take the first step toward changing a broken world.
But not today.
Today, I had sothing else to do.
Sothing just as important.
I turned, looking back toward the apartnt, picturing the girls inside, the warmth of the kitchen, the quiet comfort of the living room, the soft laughter that would spill out if I let it.
They had been there for .
Held together when I was breaking.
Watched over when I couldn’t watch over myself.
They had given a reason to keep going.
To keep fighting.
And they deserved to have there.
Even if just for a day or two.
Even if just for a mont, before the world demanded everything from again.
I started walking, my boots clicking against the pavent, the city alive around , the weight of what was coming settling into my bones, steady, familiar.
I pulled on the band around my wrist, the rough fabric biting into my skin, grounding .
Breathe.
The world was moving.
There was work to be done.
But for today, I could afford to pause.
Reviews
All reviews (0)