So it is done

Price of actions

Seeing that Cinder's armoured limousine was left at the hotel, it was replaced by another inconspicuous vehicle as she went on to visit. Which is supposed to be strange seeing that she's also a VIP. Then again, it only served as nothing more than a distraction, the way Cinder and her entrusted escorts moved, were by teleporting. In other words, instantaneous movements.

On the one hand, it allowed Cinder, having made a decision, to be instantly in the place she was supposed to be, without the risk of attracting attention along the way. Either from the rare Atlas passersby, or the frequent checkpoints full of frowning soldiers and emotionless robot visors. On the other hand...

Having that last step being instantaneous didn't make it any easier in making it.

Cinder sat still, clenching and unclenching her fists to calm herself, realising that all her lauded self-control hardly meant anything in the face of the only worthwhile test. Was it fear? Or was it simply because she's afraid that she can't control herself?

Cinder covered her eyes, ignoring her silent escort, who was busy observing the environment. The escort was supposed to be the cover for Cinder – the driver would direct the car through the city, using Cinder's desire to sight see as a cover. Before returning to Cinder's hotel, at the same time as Cinder returned, allowing Cinder to exit the car.

The agents' job was to ensure Cinder's safety at all times, before they were sent to meet her family and during the meeting, though what happened after... It is not so easily clear-cut – there's a reason there was some thick black bag with zippers in the trunk. That was their job, one that they would do without question, without looking at what Cinder was feeling or thinking about what she was thinking at the moment.

It wasn't their job description.

Jonathan valued Cinder above all else – that's why he picked the best of the RATS agents to protect her. They were the calmest, best-trained, strong...

And completely detached.

Although, if any of the agents had reached out to her, or offered to help her, Cinder would have turned the help down.

Cinder was not weak.

***

Sunny Day was an ordinary housewife, the kind you could find all over Remnant – she could also admit that she was no spring chicken. Of course, Sunny took good care of herself, her appearance and her figure, trying desperately to keep the wrinkles creeping down her face – sure signs of approaching old age. But the truth was that no one was forever young, and neither was Sunny.

She was not as young as she used to be, but on the other hand, though she was sorry to part with her beautiful youth, Sunny was not horrified by it. She was simply saddened by the awareness that the days of her carefree flirtations and the hungry stares of men, and even some women, are over. But it's not like she particularly needed those glances, either – she didn't even care that much about physical intimacy anymore. She had outgrown those times – changed flirting for love, sex for children, and amorous suitors for a husband.

Sunny Day was... In a way, she was happy. Not in the sense of waking up in the morning and singing like some disgusting bird that annoyed the working people on their way to work with its disgusting vigour. But rather that she was simply content with her current life.

She was not content with the current situation in her life, though.

The situation in Mantle was seriously affecting life in Atlas, and not for the better either, Sunny could only hope that it would be resolved as quickly as possible. But seeing that the solution wouldn't just suddenly happen tomorrow or any near foreseeable future – Sunny could say she was content with her life. She was especially content with her life at the moment.