Upper Sector. The Sky Gardens.
The air smelled fake.
It smelled of synthetic roses and ozone scrubbers. No rot. No acid rain. Just pristine, climate-controlled perfection.
I adjusted the collar of my tuxedo. It felt like a noose.
"I look ridiculous," I muttered into my earpiece.
"You look dashing," Riley's voice whispered in my ear. "Like a young noble looking for trouble. Now, stop fidgeting. Security is tight."
I stood on the terrace of the Grand Hotel, overlooking the glittering skyline of Yorknew.
Below me, flying cars zipped through neon highways. Above, the holographic dome shielded the rich from the dark clouds that drowned my home in Sector 4.
This was where the 1% lived.
And tonight, I was here to kill one of them.
[Target: Councilman Vane.]
Riley projected the dossier onto my contact lens HUD (a gift from her tech lab).
[Crime: Selling Hunter weapons to the Slum Gangs to incite chaos. Using the chaos to buy land cheap.]
"He's the reason the Shark-men have military-grade gear," Riley explained. "He profits from your suffering, Ren. He is a parasite in a silk suit."
I gripped the champagne glass in my hand tight enough to almost crack it.
"Where is he?"
"Ballroom. VIP Section. He's wearing a red sash. He has two bodyguards. Rank B Hunters. Can you handle them?"
I touched the violin case resting by my feet.
Inside wasn't an instrument.
It was Zev.
"Rank B?" I scoffed. "I killed a Captain."
"Don't get cocky. Stealth is key. If you cause a scene, the Royal Guard will descend on you. And they are Rank A."
I picked up the case.
"Understood. In and out."
I walked into the ballroom.
It was dazzling. Crystal chandeliers the size of houses. Tables laden with real food roasted swan, fresh grapes, wine that cost more than a Slum dweller made in a lifetime.
People laughed. They danced.
They didn't know that beneath their feet, people were eating rats to survive.
The hatred bubbled up in my chest.
[Yes,] Zev whispered. [Look at them. Pigs. Fat and happy. Let's spill their wine.]
"Focus," I told myself.
I spotted him.
Councilman Vane. Fat. Balding. Wearing a red sash over a white suit.
He was laughing loudly, holding a cigar in one hand and a young woman in the other.
Behind him stood two men in dark suits. They scanned the crowd with sharp, predator eyes. Hunters.
I needed a distraction.
I walked toward the waiter carrying a tray of drinks.
As I passed him, I 'accidentally' bumped his elbow.
CRASH.
Glasses shattered. Wine spilled onto a lady's expensive gown.
"You clumsy idiot!" she shrieked.
All eyes turned to the commotion. The bodyguards looked away for a split second.
Now.
I moved.
I didn't run. I glided through the crowd, using the confusion as cover.
I reached a service door behind Vane's table.
I slipped inside.
A narrow corridor. Empty.
I opened the violin case.
Zev hummed, hungry for blood.
I strapped the sheath to my back and discarded the case.
"Riley, I'm in position behind the VIP curtain."
"Wait," Riley said. "He's moving. He's going to the private balcony for a smoke."
Perfect.
I moved to the balcony door.
Through the glass, I saw Vane step out. He lit his cigar, looking at the city he was poisoning.
His bodyguards stayed inside, giving him 'privacy'.
Fatal mistake.
I opened the door quietly.
The wind on the balcony drowned out the sound of the latch.
I stepped out.
Vane took a puff of his cigar.
"Beautiful night," he muttered to himself. "Profit margins are up 20%."
"Enjoying the view?" I asked.
Vane jumped. He spun around, dropping his cigar.
"Who... who are you? How did you get here?"
He saw the massive black sword on my back. His eyes widened.
"Guard !"
I didn't let him finish.
I stepped forward and clamped my hand over his mouth.
I slammed him against the railing.
He struggled. He was heavy, sweaty. He smelled of expensive tobacco and fear.
"Shhh," I whispered. "The party is just getting started."
Vane's eyes bulged. He tried to claw at my hand, but my grip was iron.
"You sold weapons to the Red Skulls," I said. "My friend died because of a Red Skull raid last year. Do you remember that?"
He shook his head frantically. Mmph! Mmph!
Of course he didn't. To him, it was just a statistic.
"Ren," Riley warned. "Bodyguards are moving. 10 seconds."
I drew a dagger from my belt. Zev was too loud, too messy for this.
"This is from Sector 4," I whispered.
SHLUCK.
I drove the dagger into his heart.
Twice.
Vane went limp. His eyes rolled back.
I let him slide down the railing.
I planted a small black coin on his chest the mark Riley gave me. The mark of "The Silencer".
"Target down," I said.
Suddenly, the glass door shattered.
CRASH.
The two bodyguards burst onto the balcony.
"BOSS!"
They saw the dead Councilman. Then they saw me.
They drew their weapons. One had electrified batons. The other had a glowing mana-pistol.
"KILL HIM!"
"Plan B?" I asked Riley.
"Plan B," she sighed. "Run."
I didn't run toward them.
I turned to the railing.
We were on the 50th floor.
"Catch me if you can," I saluted.
I vaulted over the edge.
The wind screamed in my ears as I plummeted.
The bodyguards rushed to the edge, firing shots. PEW. PEW.
Blue plasma bolts whizzed past my head.
"Riley! Now!" I screamed into the mic.
WHOOSH.
A massive drone, disguised as a delivery vehicle, swooped out from under the balcony.
I landed on its roof. THUD.
My knees buckled, but I held on.
The drone banked hard, diving into the traffic stream, blending in with the flying cars.
I looked back up at the hotel.
The two bodyguards were shrinking dots.
I sat on the roof of the speeding drone, wind whipping my tuxedo.
My heart was racing.
I had done it.
I had infiltrated the Upper Sector, killed a powerful man, and vanished.
"Extraction successful," Riley said. "Good work, Ren. You're a natural."
I looked at my hands.
They weren't shaking this time.
Killing Kael felt heavy. Killing Jiro felt angry.
But killing Vane?
It felt... cold. Professional.
I was losing something. With every kill, a piece of the scared boy from the Slums died.
[You are evolving,] Zev said, sounding pleased. [The boy is dying. The King is rising.]
"I'm not a King," I muttered, ripping off my bow tie and letting it fly away into the night. "I'm just a janitor. Cleaning up the mess."
"Ren," Riley's voice softened. "Check your account."
I pulled out my datapad.
[Transfer Received: 100,000 Credits.]
Enough for Maya's medicine for a year. Enough to buy a real house in a safe sector.
"It's done," I whispered. "She's safe."
"For now," Riley reminded me. "But Vane was just a pawn. His death will stir the nest. The big players will start asking questions. You need to be ready."
I looked at the glittering city around me.
Beautiful. Fake. Rotten.
"I'm ready," I said. "Point me to the next one."
The drone dove down, leaving the world of light, descending back into the fog and shadows where I belonged.
The mission was over.
But the war had just begun.