As I paced around the dimly lit warehouse, my mind raced with thoughts. The sticky heat clung to my skin, causing it to gleam under the solemn moonlight. My shoes thudded against the concrete in rhythm with my heartbeat.

  If Viktor were alive... then what was the real purpose of his plan?

  What game was he playing now? What was his goal?

  I sat on the edge of the mattress, casting a thoughtful glance at the moon.

  Its light reflected at me, almost playful.

  If it could speak, I wondered, would it whisper: The truth is right there. Dig deeper.

  Maybe it wasn’t the moon speaking, maybe it was my mind, desperate for answers.

  The revelation about Viktor, about the Syndicate, had cracked my carefully constructed worldview.

  A few feet away, my mother lay asleep on a thin mattress. The budget was tight for now.

  The stars danced beyond the shattered warehouse windows, urging me to reach out, to grasp something. Some truth just beyond my fingertips.

  But what if it wasn't something to reach for? What if the truth was already inside me, waiting?

  A strange feeling stirred in my chest, giddy, unfamiliar.

  Was this... love?

  No. That wasn’t something I was capable of.

  Not anymore.

  All of a sudden, in perfect clarity, a memory jolted through my mind.

  The past.

  Something I thought I had erased.

  I saw her: my mother, much younger, appearing in the Syndicate’s halls while Viktor and I waited for our birth parents.

  His never came.

  But mine did.

  She whispered that she was alive and that I must pretend we had never met. That something was waiting for me beyond those doors.

  At the time, I didn’t know how to react. Even Viktor looked perplexed.

  When Mark arrived and took me under his wing, I thought I had erased her from my memory.

  But the truth was, she never left. Not really.

  And Viktor’s parents... they never came at all.

  That meant something.

  It had to.

  Knowing Viktor as I did, he would never let that lie. He would have searched for answers.

  Which led to another question: if he was alive, why hide it? Why fake his death?

  None of it made sense.

  I continued pacing until exhaustion dragged me down. I collapsed onto the mattress beside my mother and surrendered, briefly, to sleep.

  …

  I woke to the smell of sizzling bacon.

  My mother stood over a battered camping stove, her hair messy but her movements graceful.

  "Hello, son," she said, glancing back with a warm smile. "Care to eat?"

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  My stomach growled before I could respond.

  "I'll take that as a yes," she giggled.

  I nodded sheepishly. "I guess I forgot it’s been a few days since I last ate."

  "Well, we’ll have to fix that," she said, turning back to the stove. The sunlight pouring through the windows painted her in gold, like some forgotten goddess.

  As she worked, I thought again about the feeling gnawing at me, soft but… persistent.

  Was it love? Something else?

  I shook my head. I wasn’t made for this. I wasn’t allowed to feel.

  "Are you scared?" my mother asked suddenly, slicing through the fog in my mind.

  I swallowed. My voice barely escaped me.

  "Of what?"

  "Of feeling," she said. "Of Viktor. Of Jeffrey. Of yourself."

  The bacon sizzled louder, but the only thing I could hear was the steady hammering of my own heartbeat.

  "It’s okay to be scared," she continued. "Not everything is certain. No matter how much you plan, how much you foresee... sometimes things fall apart anyway. And when they do, the only thing you can control is whether you adapt."

  She set a plate of bacon down in front of me, but made no move to sit herself.

  "You don’t have to be perfect, Fredrick," she said softly. "You can’t save humanity alone. No one can."

  Her words sank into me like heavy stones.

  I had spent my whole life chasing perfection, believing that if I was smart enough, strong enough, ruthless enough... I could save us all.

  I was wrong.

  And somehow... that was okay.

  I thought of Emma.

  Her kindness. Her stubborn belief in something better.

  Maybe, just maybe, there was a future for me beyond cold calculation.

  First, though, there was one person I needed to face.

  Jeffrey.

  Before I could spiral further, my mom spoke again, her voice grave.

  "Fredrick," she said. "It’s time I reveal to you my plan… the plan to destroy the Syndicate."

  I looked up into her eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever...

  I was ready to listen.

  …

  “He’s gone rogue.”

  The boss’s voice snapped my focus back into the present.

  “My son?”

  The boss nodded grimly as he gazed out the towering window.

  The main room of the Syndicate headquarters was vast. A room made completely out of ashen black brick and a glowing, vibrant purple light highlighting certain areas. There was a long hallway that led up to the boss’s throne. He had a custom-made throne made out of pure gold with purple accents along it. There were chairs and tables strewn about randomly where personal guards would sit and act like they were normal people, but they’ve been instructed to guard the boss at all times.

  The boss himself stood staring out at the landscape below, taking in the vastness of the city. It was almost beautiful.

  However, he just informed me that my son has gone rogue.

  This jeopardizes the mission heavily.

  “He has the clues now, too.”

  I clenched my jaw until it felt like my mouth was going to pop.

  “Fuck.”

  The boss nodded.

  “You know what that means?”

  I froze.

  No… not him…

  “You can’t seriously be thinking about…”

  “This is a dire matter, Mark, we need to make sure we get at least one of the clues so that we have a form of leverage. Perhaps it’s not too late to get Fredrick back…”

  I nodded.

  “I understand. I’ll go after Fredrick. But, are you really sure about revealing the project? I mean, it’s supposed to be our contingency.”

  “We have been pushed into an unfavorable position. This is our last stand. I have measures being taken to ensure further contingencies. However, this does not change the fact that we must gain back the advantage in this race. I’m going to contact William Anderson.”

  The name sent shockwaves through the room, and I had to clutch a table to prevent myself from falling over.

  “I see. He will surely be more than capable.”

  The boss nodded gravely and turned, but stopped short once he caught a glimpse of something that was behind me.

  I began to tremble and slowly tried to turn around to see what it was that caused the boss to stop in his tracks.

  “Why, hello Mark. Boss. It’s been a while.”

  The man himself, Viktor Hale, stood before us, calm and confident, his arms crossed.

  “Viktor,” The boss said coolly. “It’s been a while.”

  “Why, it most certainly has been, boss. However, I’m afraid I can’t let you release Mr. Anderson. He is to stay here.”

  The boss smiled an icy smile.

  “Now, why would I do that?”

  Viktor, without smiling or changing his tone in the slightest, responded.

  “Because you want to live, don’t you?”