She wasn't chosen out of pity to enjoy the vibrant life of Toronto. Strength, beauty, and talent weren't gifts she had selected for herself. Emma was just one of the thousands of children thrust into the horrors of a cruel initiative known as "The Perfect Children Operation."
Many innocent lives were shattered by this program, and those who survived were subjected to inhumane experiments that stripped away their childhood. The few fortunate enough to emerge from the darkness found themselves standing on shaky ground, granted a name, a place in the city, and a taste of luxury—all under the watchful eye of a government that celebrated their resilience.
But for every child who triumphed, countless others fell victim to the system. From the thousands who entered, only ten remained.
Meet Emma Jonah Smoak: the merciless, alexithymia assassin. The government's prized possession. The perfect child.
~ * ~
SMAAASSSHHHH!
One.
The assassin rolls to the left.
BAAAMMMMMM!
Two.
Another wall comes crashing down, but she keeps rolling.
CRASSSHHHHH!!!!
Three.
Her back slams against the corner of a brick wall.
Emma stifles a gasp, forcing her focus on the danger ahead. One by one, the walls fall from the sky like deadly rain. She could have dodged each one if it weren't for a stubborn string that had wrapped itself around her ring finger, restricting her movements.
She tugs at it, wincing as the sharpness threatens to slice into her flesh. Each attempt to break free only shortens the string, frustrating her further. The assassin grits her teeth; despite its thin appearance, this string is resilient. She doesn't even have time to breathe.
When silence finally envelops her and the walls stop their relentless assault, she stands up from the cold concrete. Taking a moment, she scans her surroundings. From an early age, she learned the importance of vigilance, training herself to anticipate the worst in every scenario. Closing her eyes, she sharpens her hearing. Nothing. Five minutes pass in eerie stillness.
Yet, the longer she remains still, the more the burning sensation from the string intensifies. Cautiously, she takes a few steps, testing the tension. The string gradually seems to cool.
Images from her tortured past flash through her mind—narrow escapes, betrayals, the cold, sterile lab that turned her into a weapon. She feels like a rat in a trap again.
But she has no choice; she must follow the string to see what lies beyond. As she reaches the end, a startling sight greets her: a girl, dirty and trembling, sitting in a shallow pool of water, her long blonde hair concealing her bare skin. The red string glows ominously as the girl's blue eyes lock onto hers.
Ba-thump! Emma's hand instinctively moves to her chest, confusion swirling within her. The alexithymia assassin can't comprehend what's happening, yet the blade resting against her thigh feels cool and ready for action. Reflexively, her fingers brush the hem of her skirt, where her weapon lies. She knows she must silence her.
"Please..." the girl cries, her voice trembling with warmth yet tinged with fear. "W-where am I? I want to go home. I just want to go home."
________________________________________________________________________________
~ 24 Hours Ago ~
Josette Juliet touched the wall of the pool and quickly went up to gasp for air not missing the opportunity to watch her best friend, Emma Smoak, diving into the pool with grace that always makes her look up to Emma's beauty without fail. She quickly got out of the pool and watched Emma from afar, her hands gliding in and out of the pool, freestyle with poise in her movements. There was no rush or agitation in her action even though her long slender arms moved faster and faster with each glide, catching up to second place. She rolled and pushed herself forward closing in on the one in the first place.
Josette's teammates yelled out in anticipation for Emma to make a comeback in this relay. Josette looked at the supposedly winning team they were shouting for their final member to finish the race. They yelled out anxiously at the sight of Emma's speed.
"Emma!" Josette's voice rang out, her fist clenched in exhilaration. As if fueled by the roar of her best friend's cheer, Emma surged through the water with renewed speed. Josette and her teammates exchanged stunned glances, their disbelief quickly melting into an even more fervent cheer for Emma.
SLAAMMMM!
Emma gasped for air as she reached the finish line, the world around her momentarily slowing down. The bell rang sharply, cutting through the heavy silence, and the board flashed Lane 8 in vibrant green with the word "WIN" boldly displayed. For a heartbeat, everyone locked eyes, and then, as if on cue, smiles began to spread across their faces, outpacing their thoughts. "We won!"
They all lumped in and at each other and gave a group hug shrieking. Josette walked over to the pool and watched Emma's naturally bright red lips curled into a big smile.
Josette's team stood victorious, clinching first place in the swim tournament and proudly accepting their trophy at the end of the day. As the crowd erupted in celebration, Emma found herself at the center of attention. Hundreds of people swarmed around her, eager to congratulate her on her remarkable performance.
Amidst the excitement, several managers approached Emma, eager to recruit her for her exceptional swimming talent or her striking beauty. Their offers ranged from professional contracts to high-profile modeling opportunities. Emma's allure was undeniable—her stormy grey eyes, shifting with every emotion, held a magnetic depth that captivated everyone around her. Her cool, composed demeanor and effortless elegance made her the focal point of attention. Even straight girls found themselves irresistibly drawn to her, some even falling under her spell. Despite the allure of fame and financial gain, Emma gracefully declined all their invitations.
Reflecting on the moment, Josette would have seized the opportunity, thrilled by the prospect of early fame and fortune. She, too, was beautiful, with flowing blonde hair that framed her sharp features and striking blue eyes that sparkled with life. But standing beside Emma made her feel ordinary in comparison. While Josette had always been confident in her looks, the contrast between them was undeniable. Rather than envy, she felt an unexpected affection for her best friend. Emma's beauty could easily grace magazine covers and attract countless admirers, yet to Josette, she was more than just a dazzling presence—she was the one who made Josette feel truly understood and cherished, transcending any superficial allure.
"Let's go to the bar later to celebrate our win," Anna, our team captain, said, her brown eyes gleaming with happiness. She hadn't stopped smiling since she stood on the platform, earning first place. "And you're coming along, Emma Smoak. You're not skipping out this time," she urged, giving a playful wink.
Emma's lips curved into a smile, her hands raised in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll come for your pride, Captain," she replied, her voice calm and soothing.
"Really?" Josette blurted out, surprised. She knew Emma typically avoided social events like this. It was unusual for her to even consider attending.
"Are you feeling... jealous?" Abigail teased, wrapping her arms around Josette's neck in a playful, tight embrace that made Josette gasp for air. She struggled to pull Abigail away, only for her to slip and fall onto the slippery floor.
"Cut it out, guys!" Josette exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Are you alright, Jo?" Emma's voice was laced with concern as she rushed to her side, her eyes searching Josette's. The warmth of Emma's embrace enveloped her, providing comfort and grounding her amidst the teasing laughter of their teammates.
Josette nodded, her heart racing—not just from the fall but from the closeness of her best friend. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little surprised," she managed to say, her cheeks still flushed as she met Emma's gaze.
"You're not hurt, are you?" Emma asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
"No, I don't think so," Josette replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
"Try to walk," Emma encouraged gently.
As Emma released her, Josette took a cautious step, but a sharp wince escaped her lips when her right foot touched the ground. Instinctively, she crouched down, her breath hitching in discomfort.
Emma was at her side in an instant, kneeling beside her. "Let me help," she said softly, her hands steadying Josette as she assessed the situation. "You might have twisted it. Just breathe."
Josette looked up, grateful yet embarrassed. "I'm such a klutz," she muttered, feeling the warmth of Emma's presence enveloping her like a protective shield.
"Hey, it happens to the best of us," Emma reassured her, a calm smile on her face. "Let's get you checked out. I won't leave your side."
Just then, a chorus of playful voices broke through the moment. "Hey, we're still here, you lovebirds!" Anna called out, smirking as she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. The rest of the team erupted into laughter, their teasing only amplifying the warmth spreading through Josette's cheeks.
Josette couldn't help but smile, her embarrassment fading as she caught Emma's gaze. She longed for a bond that transcended friendship, yet Emma remained oblivious to the emotions swirling around them. "Alright, alright, I'm up!" Josette declared, trying to regain her composure. With Emma's steady hand at her back, she pushed herself slowly back to her feet.
As laughter echoed around them, Emma remained unfazed, her expression serene and neutral—a perfect mask that often misled those around her. Josette's heart ached with the bittersweet knowledge that while she felt something deeper for Emma, the feelings were not reciprocated.
"Nope, not happening," Emma said firmly as she scooped Josette into her arms, leaving the others in stunned silence. "You guys go on without us. I'm taking Josette to Mrs. Lawrence in the infirmary. I'll contact you if we can join later." With just that they left for the infirmary.
Josette blinked in surprise, her pulse quickening not just from the sudden shift but from being so close to Emma. "Emma, I can walk—" she began, but Emma shook her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
"No arguments. You need to rest that ankle, and I've got this," Emma replied, her tone leaving no room for debate. As they moved through the hall, Josette couldn't help but notice how effortlessly Emma carried her, her strong frame a comforting presence.
"Why do you always do this?" Josette asked, a teasing lilt in her voice to mask her vulnerability. "You know I can manage on my own."
"Because I care," Emma said simply, though the words felt loaded with unspoken meaning. The truth was, Emma often felt more like a guardian than a friend, and while she recognized Josette's admiration, she couldn't fully grasp its weight.
As they reached the infirmary, Emma gently set Josette down on the examination table. The nurse was quick to assess the sprain, but Josette's mind was elsewhere—on the warmth of Emma's arms, the way her heart raced whenever they were close.
Just as the nurse finished wrapping Josette's ankle, Emma's phone buzzed, pulling her attention away. She glanced at the screen, and a flicker of tension crossed her face. "I need to take this," she said, stepping away, her voice suddenly cool.
Josette watched her go, feeling a familiar ache of longing mixed with concern. Emma's demeanor shifted; she was no longer the comforting friend but the focused, untouchable figure Josette often admired from afar.
As Emma spoke on the phone, her voice low and urgent, Josette tried to piece together the fragmented parts of their friendship—the laughter, the shared moments, and the walls Emma always seemed to keep up. When she returned, her expression was unreadable.
"Something's come up," Emma said, her tone shifting back to neutral. "I might not make it to the bar after all."
"Is everything okay?" Josette asked, instinctively sensing that there was more beneath the surface.
"Yeah, just... some things I need to handle," Emma replied, her gaze drifting for a moment. Josette felt a pang of disappointment, knowing this wasn't just about her ankle but something much deeper.
"Alright," Josette said quietly, masking her emotions. "I'll be fine. Just... let me know how it goes?"
"Of course," Emma replied, her eyes locking onto Josette's with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "Take care of yourself, alright? I'll check in later."
As Emma left the infirmary, Josette's heart sank. Little did she know, Emma was slipping back into a world of shadows, a place where the bond they shared felt distant and out of reach. While Emma was destined for danger, Josette was left holding onto a love that felt both profound and painfully one-sided.
As Emma walked away, a heaviness settled in Josette's chest. She couldn't bear the thought of going to the bar without her best friend, especially now that Emma had been called away. With a sigh, Josette pulled out her phone and dialed Anna, her captain.
"Hey, Anna. I'm really sorry, but I can't make it to the bar tonight," Josette said, forcing a cheerful tone despite the disappointment. "The physician said I need to rest my ankle."
"Are you sure?" Anna asked, concern lacing her voice. "We really wanted you there."
"Yeah, I'm sure. I promise I'll make it up to you guys. Have fun without me!" Josette hung up, feeling a mixture of guilt and relief. She settled back against the examination table, letting the quiet wash over her.
~ Present ~
Ba-thump!
The assassin placed her hand over heart. She looked at the blonde woman. She didn't waste her time. Whatever it was. Whatever it is. This must be erased. Her grip tightened around the hilt of the blade.
"W-where am I?" the girl repeated, her voice trembling, laced with fear. "I just want to go home."
Silenced. She must be silenced.
Without a second, Emma went for her neck. A line of red welled up.
The girl gasped. Emma's expression didn't flicker. She tightened her grip—
—and froze.
Something warm slid down her own throat.
Her free hand rose instinctively, fingers brushing her skin. Wet. She looked. Blood.
Her blood.
Her gaze snapped back to the girl. The scales gleamed faintly under the dim light, her tears mixing with the shallow water.
Emma's training screamed for her to finish it, but for the first time in years, her blade trembled.
Hurting the girl... meant hurting herself.