The boundary walls behind me shrink more and more in the distance as I keep running. The market comes into view, silent, lifeless. No shops are open at this hour, not that they’re ever allowed to. My arms and legs still tremble, and my breathing is wild, but my mind is desperately trying to trick me into calming down. Idiotic, really. I’m still running.

  I dash through the market’s empty alleys, every step echoing louder in my head than it should. After what feels like an eternity of nonstop running, my building finally rises before me. Relief hits like a wave.

  I bolt up the stairs to the second floor, fling open my door, slip inside, and shut it quickly behind me. Huff... I leaned back against the door and my heart hammered against my ribs.

  I froze at the sight of another pair of shoes sitting neatly on the rack. Familiar ones. Without stopping to catch my breath, I rushed into the living room.

  There he was, Steve, casually flipping through a book on my couch. He looked up just long enough to smirk.

  “My my, you look ugly when breathing heavily like that. Go wash up and rest a little,” he said, eyes darting back to the page.

  “Shut up. You scared me. I thought they found out my identity.”

  After snapping at Steve, I finally calmed down a little and headed straight to the bathroom.

  “Fuuhhh…” I exhaled, shutting the door behind me. “That was insane… Only God knows what would’ve happened if I didn’t kill them without thinking. I might’ve died a gruesome death. Maybe even turned into an example for others.”

  The words slipped out loud as if saying them would ease the pounding in my chest. But the more I thought about it, the more my heart raced, every beat sharper than the last.

  I twisted the shower knob and stepped under the stream. Cold water cascaded down, but the chill barely registered. My body stood still, but my mind wouldn’t stop. It kept replaying everything. The gunshots, the bodies, the close calls.

  Fear crept in. What if I die? What if I never uncover what they’re hiding?

  Those papers… phases. I didn’t get to see all of them. Phase 1 and 2… already complete. Phase 3… underway. And Phase 4 and 5… still hidden in shadows.

  What are they planning?

  A lot of things were making my head ache. I shut off the shower knob, grabbed a towel, and dried myself off. Wrapping it around my waist, I stepped out of the bathroom.

  Steve was still there, buried in that book of his. Oh wow, he really does read a lot, huh? Maybe that’s why he looks like such a nerd.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I opened the closet, pulled out some clothes, and slipped them on. My body still felt sluggish, but the fabric gave me a sense of grounding.

  With the towel in hand, I went to the balcony attached to my room. The night air greeted me, cool and quiet. I hung the towel over the railing to dry. Sure, it was nighttime, but at least it’d shake off the water.

  I stepped back inside, sliding the balcony door shut behind me. The room was silent again, except for the faint rustle of Steve turning a page.

  I walked up to him and yanked the book out of his hands.

  He looked up at me with that same irritating smile.

  “So,” he asked, voice light, “you ready to talk about your first time?”

  My jaw tightened. I hated the way he phrased things, but that was just Steve. Always saying it like that. Always with that grin.

  I forced myself to breathe and asked, “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  For a moment, his expression went blank. Then the smile returned.

  “How many did you kill? You gotta keep count now that your hands are stained.”

  The words hit harder than I expected. My throat went dry, but I found myself counting on my fingers anyway.

  “One after coming down the stairs. One in the throat. One in the eye. Two in the head. One in the heart. So… a total of—”

  “Oh, wow, boy,” Steve cut me off, his grin widening. “Six on your very first day? With this? Impressive.”

  He lifted the gun I’d taken from the guard, twirling it in his hand like a toy. He seemed particularly fixated on it. Like examining too carefully.

  “Hey, wait. That still has bullets in it!”

  I lunged forward and snatched the gun from his hands. He didn’t resist, not even a flicker of hesitation. I shoved it under my bed before turning back to him.

  “You knew about the government’s plan. The one with phases, didn’t you?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he tilted his head and asked, “What makes you think that?” His eyes locked onto mine; sharp, testing, as if waiting to see if I’d slip.

  I clenched my fists. “Why else would you hand me a map of a redacted zone? You knew something was there, and you sent me straight to it.”

  “Hmmm. Okay then,” he said calmly. “And what did you find exactly?”

  “The plan has phases. It’s already on Phase 3.” I swallowed. “They called it… Combine.”

  For the first time that night, Steve’s mask slipped. His smile faded, and shock flickered across his face.

  “Phase 3, you say?” he murmured, almost to himself. “That pushes things a lot closer…”

  "What?" I questioned him, hearing him say that. "What do you mean by that?"

  He looked up at me with a serious face and asked, "Did you find anything else?"

  His words cut deep. They reminded me of the incidents, of my parents’ deaths. My stomach twisted, and I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms. A few drops slipped down my cheeks before I even noticed.

  Huh? I… I’m crying?

  I thought I was tough. I thought I was past that. But maybe I still need more training.