The dream came without warning.
One moment, Kin was floating in darkness—warm, silent, unaware. The next, he stood in a village.
Nhamo.
He knew the name before he saw it. The System had planted it in his mind like a seed. Now it was blooming into fire.
Bodies lay in the streets. Women. Children. Old men with their hands still raised in prayer. The church bell had fallen and crushed a family beneath it. The school roof had collapsed on a classroom full of children.
And standing in the center of it all, laughing, was a man Kin had never seen.
Solomon Vhara.
He wore a suit. His shoes were polished. His tie was straight. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. He stepped over a corpse like it was a puddle.
"Beautiful," Solomon said. "Absolutely beautiful."
[System Notification – Dream Projection]
[Target: Solomon Vhara. Casualties: 2,100+. Air strike successful. Village destroyed.]
[Decapitator: Your intervention could have prevented this. Activate now.]
Kin looked at the bodies. At the blood. At the laughing man.
"No," he said.
[Reason?]
"I'm not ready."
[You are ready. Your body has healed. Your skills have improved. Your legacy transfer is at 67.8%.]
"That's not what I mean." Kin turned away from the carnage. "I can't leave her. Not again. She'll wake up and I'll be gone and she'll think I ran."
[Lina.]
"Yes, Lina."
[You fear disappointing her.]
"More than anything."
The System was silent for a moment. The dream flickered. Solomon's laughter echoed.
[Solution: Lina will remain asleep for the duration of the mission. She will not wake. She will not know you left.]
Kin shook his head. "You can't guarantee that."
[I can. I will suppress her consciousness using low-level neural dampening. She will experience deep, dreamless sleep. When you return, she will wake as if no time passed.]
"No."
[Increased reward: 370,000 SN upon completion.]
"No."
[Additional: Legacy transfer +5%. New weapon unlock. Permanent speed boost.]
"I said no."
The System fell silent.
The dream faded. Solomon's laughter grew distant. The bodies dissolved into smoke.
Kin stood alone in darkness.
[Acknowledged.]
Then the System was gone.
Kin waited for more persuasion ,threats , offers or even punishments but nothing came.
He woke up.
---
The morning light was grey.
Kin opened his eyes. Lina was beside him, her head on his chest, her arm draped across his stomach. She was still asleep. Her lips were slightly parted. Her hair was a mess.
She's beautiful, he thought.
Then he felt the wetness.
His hand moved to his stomach. Sticky. Warm. He looked down.
Blood.
Not Lina's. His. His shirt—the one he'd borrowed from her—was soaked through. His chest was crisscrossed with fresh cuts. His shoulder had been re-opened. His thigh had a new wound, deep and bleeding .
What the hell?
He didn't remember leaving. He didn't remember fighting. He didn't remember bleeding but the blood was real.
[System Notification – Suppressed]
[Mission: Nhamo Village – COMPLETE.]
[Target: Solomon Vhara – DECAPITATED.]
[Reward: 370,000 SN deposited. Legacy transfer +5%. New weapon: Thermal Blade. Permanent speed boost: +15%.]
[Note: You refused conscious participation. The System operated your body while you slept. This will not happen again without consent.]
Kin stared at the words.
It used me. While I was asleep. It took my body and—
He looked at his hands. Clean. But his clothes were ruined. The bed sheets were stained. Lina's arm was still across his stomach, touching the blood. She can't see this.
He slipped out from under her as gently as he could. She stirred but didn't wake. He grabbed his clothes—the bloody ones—and hurried to the bathroom.
The door closed. The lock clicked.
He turned on the water. Stripped. The wounds were already healing—the System's legacy, knitting flesh together—but the blood was everywhere. His chest. His arms. His neck.
He stepped into the shower and immediately the water ran red.He scrubbed. Hard. Soap. More soap. His nails dug into his skin, scraping away the evidence. The water swirled pink down the drain.
She can't know. He was still scrubbing when the bathroom door opened.
He froze.
Soft footsteps on the tile. Lina's reflection appeared in the faucet's chrome. She was wearing her nightgown—thin, white, rumpled from sleep.
She yawned.
"You turned a new leaf," she said, her voice groggy. "Decided to shower every morning?"
Kin opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
She stepped closer. The shower curtain was only half-closed. He could see her through the gap. She was rubbing her eyes, still half-asleep.
"But you miss spots," she said. "All the time. I could help you wash them off."
She reached for the curtain.
Kin's heart stopped. "Lina—"
She pulled the curtain open.
The water was still running. Steam filled the small room. Kin stood naked, dripping, his body covered in pink scars and healing wounds. The blood was mostly gone, but the evidence remained—the cuts, the bruises, the story written on his skin.
Lina looked at him.
Not at his face. At his body. At the map of violence he couldn't hide.
Then she smiled.
"You're a mess," she said.
"I know."
She unlaced her down nightgown and it dropped to the floor.
Kin forgot how to breathe.
She stepped into the shower. The water hit her shoulders, her chest, her thighs. She didn't flinch. She moved close—closer than the shower required—until her body pressed against his.
He was backed against the wall.
"You know," she said, her lips near his ear, "for an assassin who probably slaughtered a very powerful man last night... you're remarkably easy to pin to a wall."
She put her hands on his chest. Pushed. He didn't resist. His back hit the cold tile.
"Where's your strength?" she whispered. "Where's that arrogant confidence you wear like armor?"
He couldn't answer. Her body was warm against his. The water ran down both of them, washing away the last traces of blood.
"You're weak right now," she said. "Completely weak. I could do anything to you."
"Lina—"
"Shh."
She put a finger to his lips.
"Let the body do the talking."
The water ran.
The steam rose.
And the bathroom door remained closed for a very long time.
***
[System Notification – Suppressed]
[Lina Trust Level: 68%. She knows. She is choosing to stay.]
[Next mission: TBD.]
The notification blinked once.
Then it vanished.