I fell through a portal two days ago, crashing into a strange, unfamiliar home. I don't know how it happened or what caused it—only that I didn't belong there.
Two days earlier
"Agent, are you almost done with your mission?" the commander's voice crackled through my earpiece.
I glanced at my watch and realized I had overstayed my welcome in the warehouse. My assignment was complete, but the place reeked of blood and gunpowder, and the air was thick with the silence that follows violence. I gathered my gear, my boots echoing across the cold concrete floor, and made my way to the exit. With one last sweep of the room, I sent the collected data to headquarters and mounted my motorcycle.
As I roared away, I risked a final look over my shoulder. The warehouse loomed behind me, and along its side lay a grim trail of bodies—soulless, motionless. My jaw tightened until my teeth ached.
"I'm sick of this," I growled into the wind.
When I returned to the agency, applause erupted. Another flawless solo mission, they said. My twenty-second completed operation this week. They called me the company's prize trophy, the top killer of the year. For my age, my reputation had already eclipsed veterans twice my experience.
And yet, as I made my way to my quarters, the praise felt hollow, each cheer echoing in my mind like a reminder of what I'd become.
⸻
I found my best friend sprawled out in my chair, a lazy grin plastered across his face like he owned the place. Typical. I rolled my eyes and unbuckled my gear, letting the weight fall from my shoulders.
"Oh, come on, Li. The mission was a success—show a little joy, Sarah," he chirped, his tone far too bright for someone who'd just walked out of a gunfight.
I shot him a fake smile—quick, sharp, and cold.
Kai sighed, leaning forward. "When are you going to get over this whole thing, Sarah?"
I didn't bother answering. Instead, I peeled off my shirt, tossed it aside, and stepped into the shower.
My name is Sarah Li, and—as you've probably guessed—I'm an assassin. Not exactly the life an average teenager dreams about, but dreams are for people who still have a choice. I was recruited into the agency at eight years old—barely tall enough to see over the kitchen counter, let alone hold a gun. I knew it was young, but I learned early that life doesn't care about what's normal.
When you live with something long enough, it seeps into you. It becomes part of who you are, wrapping around your bones until you can't tell where it ends and you begin. And just like poison, it can make you sick. That's what happened to me—I grew tired, restless… hollow. My smile that day wasn't fake because of the mission. No, it was because of him.
⸻
Back at my apartment, Kai leaned against the doorframe, watching me with that infuriating calm of his.
"You could always talk to the elders—ask for a break," he suggested casually, as if the elders were known for their generosity.
I dropped my keys on the counter with a sharp clink and headed for the fridge. "I don't want a break, Kai. I want to quit. I'm tired—tired of the bloodshed, the endless killing. Do you have any idea how long it takes to get bloodstains out of my gear?"
Kai scoffed, a dry little laugh that said are you kidding me?—like I'd just asked if he was a florist.
I rolled my eyes, cracked open the beer in my hand, and took a long swallow. "You know what I mean," I muttered.
He just smiled at me, that knowing, maddening smile that made me want to throw the bottle at his head.
"But what would you even do if you quit?" he asked, tilting his head. "You've done this job your entire life. Sure, we got an education, but not like normal people. We finished college at sixteen—how exactly would you explain that to anyone?"
I shrugged, leaning against the counter. "I could pull some strings, get into whatever profession I wanted. Haven't you ever wondered what you'd be if the organisation hadn't found you?"
Kai's gaze softened, just for a second. "I always liked animals," he admitted. "Maybe I'd be a vet." He let out a small laugh. "But that wouldn't mean—"
⸻
"Leave the agency," he said suddenly, cutting himself off. His voice was low, steady—too steady.
I froze halfway through taking another sip. "You don't just leave, Kai. Getting away isn't freedom."
"It's more than enough," he replied, but his tone lacked conviction.
I sank onto the couch, letting my head rest against the worn cushions. Kai moved closer, his shadow falling over me.
"Do you think the others would agree with me?" I asked, meeting his eyes.
His gaze was like staring into a starless night—endless and empty to most people, but I knew better. I knew the storms brewing behind them, the hope and kindness he rarely showed.
"I'm with you," he said simply, pushing away whatever fear lingered in his voice. "Through thick and thin."
My eyes lit up before I could stop them. "Really?"
He grinned faintly. "Of course. I told you before, and I'll say it again—I've got your back."
I was so excited in that moment. I loved Kai like a brother—my only family in this twisted world. But I had no idea those words would be the last ones he'd ever say to me.