"Things will never be the same again."
Gneiss Underwood never thought that he could have a shot of a normal life.
Growing up in an environment where everything defied sanity, guns and loneliness were his normal companions, if not danger and Death h...
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"There are no wrong turnings. Only paths we had not known we were meant to walk."
Number Fourteen
It was weird.
Krad eyed the brightly lit alleys and the bustling streets, intrigued and puzzled at the same time as Anna – a girl of mere seventeen years – chattered about her few fond memories of her recently deceased father. Her eyes were red from crying, and despite the impossibility, they even got worse as soon as he handed over the blue gift to his target's daughter. Even her mother could not stop her tears as she listened to Krad's invented stories regarding her husband.
Hacking Creed's Intel of the man was easy; he made sure the breach would not be traced back to him or his IP address. Because of his thorough study of his target, not to mention his stalking episode of a few days, he could pretend to have known the man for years. Both daughter and wife bought his story – that he specifically travelled to New York from Vegas just to deliver his dear friend's last wish – a gift to his beloved daughter.
That's when the waterworks started.
Krad couldn't understand even a bit of what's happening around him. He couldn't comprehend why these people sitting with him in his rented limousine were crying this badly. Could a single man really garner this kind of reaction?
His target didn't deserve his family's affection; he was evil. He was killing people. He was helping others kill people. Innocent people. Anna and her mother shouldn't grieve. They should rejoice and be thankful he's gone. Krad did the world a favor, a huge favor. Safety and security.
So what's the matter with this people?
The entire time, he felt like an actor on stage. Always pretending, never fitting in. He imagined himself in their position. What if he lost a relative? Someone close and cherished? Someone he looked up to? Would he cry? Would he regret not spending more time with him or her?
He couldn't visualize it. He had no family. He couldn't remember his father and mother. He had no idea whether he had siblings. He never had any parental guidance or a figure he could treat as one. There were always the agents with him and his trainer, but they were dispensable; he wouldn't blink an eye at their demise. All he knew was that he was trained to finish missions. He existed to accomplish his assignments. He had a manual to follow, an order to issue, and filth to clean. There was nothing more.
He lived to serve the Master.
Was there something else for him?
He was nothing but a tool, an instrument for the greater good of mankind. There was nothing more fulfilling than that, right? Then why did he feel discontented? Why was it as if he lost something vital? What was it he's missing?
