"This is your only chance to leave alive."
Ceres looked down at the photo the man had slipped under the bottom of the curtain. She didn't want to touch it. She didn't want to believe her eyes.
"In exchange for your freedom, kill General Joaquin. That will be your last mission before I let you go."
She stood rooted to the floor, unable to move an inch or utter a single word. What could she say? What should she do? He was the very man who had made her want to leave the Raptors in the first place, and now, her leader was ordering her to execute him. How on earth was she supposed to do that?
"Ceres?"
"Sorry. I was just thinking that this mission is quite difficult, even for me. We have all heard of his reputation, and I am... hesitant about this."
"Take it or leave it."
With trembling hands, Ceres picked up the picture and stared at the face of the man she loved so much. She could still vividly remember the calloused hands that had saved her from the precipice of death when she was drugged and lost. She had never told a soul about that night—not even Xhylan, whom she viewed as both a brother and her best friend.
"I'll think about it. Give me a month."
"Good."
Ceres turned on her heel and walked into the living quarters reserved for the top ten assassins. The vast wing contained ten private rooms. Hers was tucked into the far east corner. Not long after she closed her door, it swung open again. Marcus marched inside, with Xhylan following closely behind.
"You're joking, right?" Marcus questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's no way you're actually doing this. I mean, how are you even going to earn a living after quitting?"
"I'll think of a way. I'm smarter than you, so I'm sure I'll figure something out."
"Stop boasting about your brain, you dummy."
"I'm not dumb."
Before their bickering could escalate, Xhylan stepped between them, raising his hands to cut them off. "Alright, what's the deal? I saw him slip something across the floor to you."
"It's my final mission. I get to leave alive if I accomplish it."
"And what is it?"
"I'm still weighing whether I should do it or not. Can you guys give me some space? I really need some quiet time."
"She's asking you to leave," Marcus said, shoving Xhylan toward the threshold.
"That includes you too, idiot! Get out."
The two of them pushed and pulled at each other all the way out into the hall, leaving a rare smile on her face. In their line of work, assassins never truly trusted anyone; they lived with the constant knowledge that betrayal was always just around the corner. Yet, being human, they still made exceptions. For Ceres, her exceptions were Xhylan and Marcus. Even though she and Marcus clashed like fire and ice, whenever she needed someone she could absolutely count on, he was the only one besides Xhylan she would ever turn to.
Ceres slid the photo into her drawer and crawled into bed. Just thinking about the gravity of her final assignment exhausted her to her bones.
One month later.
News of the general's death traveled far and wide. The city mayor publicly reacted with profound alarm, even ordering the police forces to investigate the matter thoroughly since the high-profile target had been killed within his territory. Shortly following that headline, a second report broke: a woman had jumped from a high-rise building and died on impact.
The mayor wore a perfectly rehearsed mask of worry and surprise, even though he had known exactly how this would play out. As the mastermind behind an elite syndicate of assassins, he made sure he kept a tight grip on every single one of their weaknesses. He would never allow anyone to truly escape his grasp—not even the number one rank.
Just a few hours prior to her death, Xhylan had come by to hand Ceres her rifle. He had wanted to tell her something vital, but the mayor had called for him, forcing him to leave prematurely. Xhylan had assumed she would notice the subtle clues he left behind and understand his underlying plan. He had worked tirelessly on a counter-strategy from the exact moment he discovered who her target was.
Who could have predicted that he would hear of the general's assassination, followed immediately by her own demise? He thought it was a sick joke. He thought his ears were playing a cruel prank on him. Yet, here he was, staring blankly at the gruesome photos netizens were uploading to social media.
Xhylan was utterly devastated. He couldn't speak; his entire world was crumbling into ash. He couldn't comprehend what had gone wrong. Why would she jump from a building if her entire goal was to leave the organization alive? Why would she take her own life when she wanted nothing more than to be with the man she loved?
His heart screamed in agony as his brain struggled to process the reality. He wanted to die. He wanted to follow her. He just wanted to leave this world behind, too. Why was she gone?
Marcus was equally paralyzed by the shock. He had never expected her to commit suicide when she was so determined to win her freedom. He felt a nagging suspicion that a crucial piece of the puzzle was missing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Who am I going to annoy now? he asked himself, finding only a hollow silence in return. Locking himself away in his room, he wept quietly, mourning her sudden death.
Ceres was gone, and to Xhylan, it was a complete, shattering mystery. How could she just die when he had sacrificed so much to give her an escape route?
***
It hurts. My whole body hurts. It's so cold.
She wanted to snap her eyes open, but her eyelids felt like lead. She felt incredibly weak, frozen, and a violent throbbing hammered against her skull. Beneath the pain, she could hear the distinct, rushing roar of water.
"A river?" she muttered, forcing her eyes open just a fraction to survey her surroundings. "Where the heck am I?! Who threw me into a raging river?!"
She tried to push herself up, but her body refused to cooperate. A massive fallen log was pinning her upper torso down, and her shirt was snagged tightly on a sharp, jagged rock. Only her lower body was fully submerged in the sweeping current. The force of the rushing water was terrifying, even for a seasoned assassin. She had always despised large bodies of water ever since a near-fatal childhood accident.
[Die? Right... I should be dead right now.]
She tried to piece her memories back together, but the images that suddenly flooded her mind belonged to an entirely different person. Yet, bizarrely, this stranger was also in love with a man named Joaquin.
[Wait! Isn't Joaquin a general? Why is he a doctor in these memories? Does he have a secret identity I didn't know about?]
"JUST WHAT IS GOING ON?!"
Wave after wave of foreign memories crashed against her brain, and the vast majority of them were agonizing. They carried a deep, crushing sorrow—a pain so severe that the original owner of this body had completely surrendered her will to live...