The corridor stretches ahead, silent and foreboding, as the ambush warning flashes in Jamie’s mind. He freezes, instincts sharpening, as Selina moves closer, her stance tense and alert.“They’re here,” Jamie whispers, his voice barely audible.Selina’s gaze darts around, her unease surfacing. “You’ve got ten seconds. Where do we go?”Jamie’s mind races as he assesses their options. Ahead lies a side room that might lead to a servant's stairwell, while retreating means doubling back.“Left,” he murmurs, nodding towards the narrow doorway. They slip into the shadows, just as footsteps echo around the corner.Pressed against the wall, they hold their breath as three guards appear, scanning the area. Jamie’s fingers brush his knife as he leans close to Selina. “Backup plan?” he asks, voice low.Selina pulls a compact device from her belt, her mouth curving in a smirk. “Always prepared,” she whispers, pressing a button. The lights flicker, casting eerie shadows, and the guards glance up,
The city streets blur as Jamie and Selina keep a low profile, weaving through narrow alleys and dimly lit corners. The adrenaline finally begins to ebb, leaving a dull ache in Jamie’s muscles and a heaviness in his mind. Despite their victory, he knows the mission is far from over—Darius isn’t the type to forgive or forget. They’ll be hunted, no doubt, but that’s a worry for another moment.For now, they need somewhere secure to regroup.They finally slip into a quiet, out-of-the-way café near the docks. The faint, comforting hum of jazz music plays over hidden speakers, an odd contrast to the tension still hanging between them. Jamie gestures to a booth at the back, and they take seats, each glancing around to ensure they aren’t followed.“Didn’t think we’d make it out of there,” Selina mutters, running a hand through her disheveled hair. “Darius isn’t usually that…personal.”Jamie nods, setting the black case between them. “He probably didn’t expect us to put up that much of a fight
Tension crackles like a live wire as Jamie faces off with Darius, each muscle taut, every nerve primed. It's Dark- they stand in a wide, dimly lit corridor—a stark contrast to the sterile brightness of the room Jamie has just left. The exit is close—agonizingly close—but Darius blocks it, and the glint in his eye promises a battle Jamie can’t ignore. “Turn around now,” Darius sneers, “and I might let you walk out with all your bones intact.” Jamie’s jaw tightens as he settles into a loose fighting stance. “I’m done with your games, Darius. I’m getting out, whether you’re in the way or not.” Darius smirks, stepping forward. “Good. I like a bit of resistance.” Without warning, Darius lunges, fists swinging like sledgehammers aimed at Jamie’s head. Jamie dodges left, feeling the rush of air as the blow grazes his cheek. He retaliates instantly, driving an elbow toward Darius’s midsection. The hit connects, but Darius barely flinches. “That all you got?” Darius taunts, grabbing Jamie
The exit looms ahead—a set of heavy steel doors just a few paces away. Jamie feels a surge of adrenaline; freedom is so close he can almost taste it. Selina moves beside him with calculated precision, eyes locked on their escape. But as they close in, a familiar voice slices through the silence. "Leaving so soon?" Jamie’s heart sinks as Sokolov steps into view, flanked by two guards, each one armed and steeled for confrontation. Sokolov’s eyes gleam with cold amusement, a smirk twisting his lips. "Jamie, Jamie… I thought we had an understanding." His voice is smooth but menacing. "Yet here you are, taking things that don’t belong to you. You disappoint me Jamie... I'm hurt" Jamie’s fists clench, muscles tensing, ready. He knew a showdown with Sokolov might be inevitable, but this close to escape, it’s a bitter pill. "You took from me first," Jamie replies, voice low, steady, laced with anger. "I’m just leveling the field... Returning things to it's natural state" Sokolov chuckle
I don’t know what’s happening. No, scratch that—I don’t know if I’m even alive right now. My chest hurts like hell, and every breath feels like a damn knife twisting in my lungs. Shit, I’m bleeding. I think. Everything’s a blur—red, black, red, and then nothing but pain.Fuck. Fuck! I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t… Shit, is this it? Is this how I go out? Some stupid accident, some drunk driver swerving at the last second. Was I even paying attention? No, I wasn’t. Too busy thinking about how I’d survive another day in that godforsaken house, with Emma breathing down my neck, reminding me how much of a waste of space I am.But this...this is different. I’m different.There’s a voice. No, not a voice—a whisper. It’s like a thought, but not mine. Soft, insistent. "Initiating Rolin system… Connecting… Establishing parameters…" The hell? Am I losing my mind now too? Figures, my body’s failing, might as well let my brain follow.I blink, or at least I think I do. My vision’s all fucked
I'm not dead. I keep reminding myself of that. Every breath I take is like inhaling a fresh dose of reality—a bitter, metallic taste in the back of my throat that tells me I’ve just stepped into some twisted new version of my life. I've watched a million animes, read a thousand mangas and played gazillion VR games, but not even once would I have ever imagined this would be happening to me in real life.The glowing blue screen hovers at the edge of my vision, pulsing softly, like it’s waiting for something. Probably waiting for me to mess up again. Well, joke's on it—I’m already a screw-up, so the pressure’s off.I’m wandering aimlessly through the dark streets, my mind half-dazed, when the screen flickers, catching my attention.*First mission commencing: Neutralize threat. Location: Three blocks north. Objective: 100 Essence.*"Neutralize threat? What the hell does that mean?" I mutter, glancing around as if the screen might answer me. Of course, it doesn’t. This system, Rolin - as i
I’m not sure how I end up in front of a rundown, half-collapsed building that looks like it’s been abandoned since the Great Depression. My legs just kind of dragged me here, one step after the other, until I’m standing in front of this decrepit piece of shit that could’ve been a crack den in a past life. Hell, maybe it still is.The Rolin system’s been quiet since that street brawl, which is weird because I half-expected it to keep barking orders at me. But no, it’s silent. Maybe it’s waiting for something, or someone. My nose drips again, and I swipe at it with a grimace. Another lovely feature of my fucked-up life—a nose that never quits.I take a deep breath, or at least as deep as my aching ribs will allow, and push open the door. It creaks like it’s about to fall off its hinges, and the smell hits me first—a mix of musty air, something burnt, and a hint of… is that oil paint? Inside, it’s dark, with only streaks of light cutting through the grimy windows. I can barely make out
I should be nervous. I should be sweating bullets, thinking about all the ways this can go wrong, but instead, there’s this weird calm washing over me as I make my way toward the warehouse. The Rolin system has been quiet since I accepted the mission, just that soft hum in the back of my mind, like it’s biding its time. And maybe I’m doing the same—waiting for something to click, for that moment when it all makes sense. The warehouse is in the industrial district, one of those places you don’t go unless you’ve got a damn good reason. Tonight, I’ve got one—500 Essence, a number that’s burned itself into my brain since the mission details popped up. That’s a hell of a lot more than I got from those street thugs, which means this job is bigger, more dangerous. But then, isn’t that what I signed up for?I slip around the back of the building, avoiding the main entrance. The place is dark, just a few scattered lights casting shadows across the cracked concrete. I pause at a side door, the