THRALL

Hit had learned, over the centuries, that time did not pass so much as it stacked.

The last few years were no different from the ones before them. Contracts came. Targets were marked. Lives ended cleanly, efficiently, without spectacle. He moved from system to system, planet to planet, leaving behind the same stillness every time. No attachments. No deviations. No reason to remember faces once they fell.

He slept when necessary. Ate when required. Spoke only when payment or logistics demanded it.

If there had been loneliness in that stretch of time, he hadn’t named it. Naming things gave them weight.

This contract was… unusual.

Upon looking back, he wished he hadn't took it. Wished hard.