The Pinnacle of Union - Male Reader Insert *HIATUS*

Chapter 11 - Party in the USA

I'm gonna switch it up again, also, 10K!...

Yor Briar POV 

Flashback...

I was young when I became aware of the curious dichotomy that defines my existence. On one hand, I am a cold, calculated individual with no capacity for empathy or remorse. I am a master assassin who finds solace in taking lives. On the other hand, I am a paradoxical creature, an enigma even to myself.

I was raised in a violent world and honed into a lethal instrument from a young age. I embraced my profession, finding comfort in the precision of taking life. To me, death is a release from suffering. I see people as flawed and driven by base instincts and desires, making them all in their own ways, psychopaths. Yet, I manipulate and exploit their weaknesses for my advantage. I see myself as a necessary evil, a balance in a chaotic and unjust world.

My view of the world and humanity is best described as nihilistic. I see people as flawed, self-serving creatures, driven by baser instincts and desires. They are all, in their own ways, psychopaths, each in pursuit of their own selfish goals. And yet, I have learned to manipulate and exploit these weaknesses, to use them to my advantage. I see myself as a necessary evil, a balance in a world that is otherwise chaotic and unjust.

There is a deeper meaning to my existence, however, a hidden message that only I can understand. I am a reflection of the world, a manifestation of the harsh realities that most people choose to ignore or deny. In a sense, I am a metaphor for the darkest aspects of the human experience. I am a reminder of the pain, the suffering, and the cruelty that exists in the world, and I take comfort in the knowledge that my work brings peace to those who can no longer endure it.

But then, everything changed when I meet, him.

It was long ago, a normal day like any other. I had just completed the assassination of a powerful mob boss by the name of Roman Torchwick. As I jumped out the window into the alleyway below, my thoughts focused on the mission I had just completed. I was lost in thought, reliving the thrill of the kill, when suddenly I was knocked off my feet. I stumbled and fell, hitting the floor. Dazed, I looked up to see a small tabby cat, a red panda and a young man ahead.

"Shit! Sorry masked lady!" the boy cried, chasing after his pet, "Come back here, you scoundrel!"

I watched as the boy and what I assumed was his pet dart down the alley, their chase after a stray cat leading them in circles. The boy was laughing, his face lit up with delight, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of him.

As I was getting back to my feet, the boy stumbled, his feet slipping on the pavement and crashing into a group of garbage cans. His pet whined frantically at his side. I knew that he was in trouble, that the cat was getting away, and I didn't hesitate. I ran over to him, my heart pounding in my chest for some reason.

"Need a hand?" I asked emotionlessly, offering him my hand as he exited the rubbish. 

The boy looked up at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "Uh, yeah, thanks," he said, taking my hand.

I helped him to his feet, and as I did, I felt something stir within me. It was a feeling that I had never experienced before, a feeling that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating. As we both looked down the street, we saw that the cat had disappeared from sight. The boy looked up at me, his eyes filled with disappointment, and I couldn't help but blush.