It had always been there.
Not loud, not obvious—never something I could turn around and catch in the act. It lingered instead, like a second shadow stitched to my spine, breathing when I breathed, pausing when I paused. I had learned to ignore most things in this life, learned to let noise dissolve into nothing, but this....this was different. This felt deliberate. Focused. As if someone, somewhere. Had decided I was worth watching.
It happened every time.
Every mission every move. Every quiet step I thought no one noticed.
Someone always followed.
Not closely enough to be seen. Not carelessly enough to be dismissed.
And I knew—instinctively, absolutely—that this presence didn't belong to anyone I knew. Not from organization. Not from the past. Not from anything that had ever claimed me.
This was something else.
Something patient.
Something worth to be caught once.
A slow irritation curled inside my chest, sharp and restless, pressing against my ribs like it wanted out be one outcome.
I would kill him. It's an easy task....wasn't a requirement but a desire, a desire I surely wanted to fulfill.
Let's make a personal mission once to act out this once—I thought.
The thought slipped through my mind like it belonged there, easy and familiar. My fingers twitched slightly at my side, already imagining the weight of it—the movement, the silence, the end.
"...…..No."
I exhaled quietly, forcing the tension down before it could take shape.
Not today.
Because today...…today was different.
Theo.
The name alone softened something inside me that I didn't like to acknowledge. It wasn't weakness—no, I refused to call it that—but it was something close to calm. A rare kind of stillness that made the noise un my head fade, even if only for a moment.
So I let the feeling go.
Just this once.
I walked without direction after that, letting the city guide me instead of the other way around. Flambora never really slept—it only shifted. The crowded streets bled into quieter corners, the noise thinning into distant echoes as I moved further out. neon lights gave way to dim streetlamps, their glow flickering weakly against cracked pavements and overgrown edges.
That's where I found it—a bench.
Old, slightly tilted to one side, half- hidden beside what used to be a garden. The plants were neglected, grew wild over the years, curling themselves like they had long given up on being tamed. It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't clean....But was perfect—that perfection I loved.
I sat.
For a moment, I simply existed there, letting the quiet settle around me. No footsteps. No voices. Just the faint rustle of the leaves and distant hum of a city that no longer mattered.
And somewhere in between one breath and the next—I fell asleep.
......
I felt a bit warmth on my skin, it was comforting for the chilly weather I was stuck outside in. Slowly, I opened my eyes. The sun was somewhere above now.
The sky had lightened into shades of blue, the air wasn't chiller any longer. My neck ached faintly from awkward angle, and my body felt heavier than it should be, as if sleep had dragged me deeper than I intended.
"...damn."
I pushed myself upright, rolling my shoulders slightly before reaching for my phone. The screen flickered weakly when I turned it on.
Low battery.
Of course. A soft scoff escaped me as I slipped it back into my pocket. "Useless."
I eyes again closed in slow-mo as if losing interest in the world again. The weather was so good—deserved to be slept in. But the thought of my next mission and next target hadn't left me in dreams too, staying here any longer would be pointless—I thought.
If I wanted to understand the setting—if I wanted to get ahead of whatever game was unfolding—I needed to move.
"I need to know this city," a soft murmur came out of myself. "Fast." I cheered myself up....thinking about money only encourages me to move, who otherwise has the will to work then?
........
I booked a cab.
The first one—I rejected.
The second one—I didn't bother opening the door.
The third one...…I chose deliberately. Something about the driver was off, something unsettled—exactly the like I was searching for. Sometimes stepping in discomfort than to waste time chasing perfection.
The car smelled faintly of stale air freshener—something artificial trying too hard to mask something older. I slid into the back seat without a word, closing the door softly behind me. The lock clicked automatically—a small sound.
The driver was talkative. Too talkative. The kind who filled silence because he didn't trust it. he adjusted his rearview mirror the moment I settled in. Not fully—just enough...…couldn't say that he had quiet good intensions.
"Where to?" he asked, voice light, almost rehearsed.
"Gambreol street, near the sweet-sour shop," I gave him a location I remember from the road. That wasn't my real address—even I am not sure where to go now.
He nodded, pulling the car into motion, the engine humming low beneath us. For a while, neither of us spoke. The city moved outside the window in blurred streaks of lights and shadow, building blending and reforming as we passed them.
"New here?" he asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
I didn't answer just gave a warm smile in return. Won't say because I am scared of being harassed—but got to keep up the façade of meek stranger who couldn't know much.
"Guess you're not quiet into communicating—will take that….." he continued with a loud voice.
"Yeah, quiet like that—" I gave a fake laugh, there was a need to appear friendlier there.
"If I guess right—then aren't you here for the bakery help for that event—" he turned a bit side, with an answer expecting smile on his face. I sensed it, it was there—
"Yeah...how did you guess?" My eyes curled a bit as I smiled. Needed something to get more information.
"We locals, all know....after so long there is an event being organized. Quiet large they say. People are often landing for the jobs as workers for the reason….." he continued as if to a friend, "However, we commoners when get an opportunity to see such ceremonies. It's for the high class." He gave off a quiet laugh as if mocking his own financial status.
"Yeah, that event naa…..what was the location again, I am forgetting—" I went along.
"Cordella Hotel. Rich people stuff. Fancy decorations, security, guests coming in from outside the city…" he paused, glancing at me again. "Not really a place where people like us go."
People like us.
Interesting choice of words. But I am not one among them. To say, I like to consider myself rich. Earner or borrowed—money is all same to me.
"But this son of my friend got lucky. Sure you couldn't guess why?" his words held excitement to tell now.....he was fully indulged in the topic. A good thing for me.
"Won a lottery to a room?" I played along.
"Anhh, something like that. he got to work there for day after tomorrow shift as a waiter. The sum he got is pretty thick. You won't belief." He tilted a bit towards me and whispered, "$600….could you think—" his tone increased with words as if level of excitement increased.
God, these people. I just stole more than that yesterday. Should I be proud. Earned or borrowed—it's all money after all. But a good thing 'day after tomorrow' he said—so my calculations are right—the informations are matching.
......
Soon after getting off that cab I took another one to Cordella Hotel.
I didn't enter immediately. instead, stood across the street, still and silent, letting my gaze move over every detail. The entrance spoke for such elegance that didn't belong in the city. The guards were on duty—none seem to slack off. A quiet refined flow of people, there was a rhythm in their movement.
The place was excessive.
Marble lions stood at the entrance, carved with unnatural precision, their presence more decorative than intimidating. Twin fountains curved outward on either side, water catching the light in clean, controlled arcs. The gardens were immaculate, orchids blooming in careful arrangements as if even nature had been trained to seduce.
Everything was deliberate. Everything felt under control.
"...…even place like this exist here," I murmured softly, a faint smile tugged at my lips. It didn't matter. There always this one exclusive place which feels far away from the place its placed into.
Getting a proper position here would take time. applications, background checks, questions.
I didn't have time for any of that. so I didn't try. I walked in anyways.
"Room?" the receptionist repeated, her gaze flickering over me before settling into polite indifference.
"Yes." I didn't smile or behaved hesitant. Confidence was necessary for such…..
"Fully booked," she replied almost immediately. "For the next three days."
Expected…. Why wouldn't it be. For the event.
"But," she added after a brief pause, "one room is available for tonight."
That was quiet enough.
"I'll take it," with an unintended witty smile I claimed. Money handled the next…..probably not my money. I borrowed from receptionist—without her permission.
.....
The room didn't matter. The food didn't matter. I ate quickly without any second thought, before stepping out in the corridor.
And then—I observed every small detail, every corridor, every turn and exit. Security cameras—there were only a few of them, blind spots, staff movement patterns. I build the structure in my mind piece by piece, mapping it until I felt familiar enough to navigate in the dark.
"....Big enough." Bid enough to hide. Big enough to trap.
........
By evening, I left,
The market was crowded, overflowing in alive manner. There was loudness, messiness. A breathing organism made of bodies and noises and movements that never truly stopped. Voices overlapped without meaning, vendors shouting over each other…..
Perfect.
Easier.
Now the fun part was starting. Somewhere I was getting the feeling that this time was probably different from others but at the same time my excitement for it was beyond measures.