Cale sat on the jagged edge of the skyscraper.
One hundred stories above the neon veins of the city.
Behind him, a mountain of brass casings and cold corpses.
A monument to the life of an assassin since he was ten years old.
Clack-clack.
Fifty tactical rifles chambered in unison.
The small army held their perimeter, boots splashing in the rain.
"Drop the blade, Ghost!"
The megaphone trembled.
Cale stared at the flickering lights.
At thirty-eight, his heart rate finally slowed.
He was bored.
He had seen every trick and killed every rival.
The world had nothing left to offer him but more blood.
He took a final drag of his cigarette.
The cherry glowed fierce against the grey sky.
He exhaled a long, silver cloud, flicked the embers, and tipped backward.
BANG.
A bullet tore through his chest.
Cale felt the rush of wind.
Gravity took him.
The pavement rushed up to meet his closed eyes.
Everything went black.
In the sudden, heavy silence of his departing soul, the memories surfaced.
Just how did I end up becoming like this?
He had been a kid dreaming of fantasy.
An overthinker.
A mind that moved instinctively—a subconscious that answered questions before he could finish asking them.
It made him wonder if his mind was still his own.
He developed maladaptive daydreaming.
He would lay for hours, drowning in time, constructing scenarios that didn't exist.
In those fantasies, he could be whoever he wanted to be.
Then, reality slapped him.
His parents were killed when he was ten.
He was taken to a weird facility.
They raised him as a weapon to murder generals, politicians, and high-ranking officials.
Life had turned into something unreal.
He was supposed to be like any other kid.
Instead, he died as "The Ghost."
I just want to rest.
Everything went black again.
Just how many days or years had passed?
Was time moving?
Does existence exist?
There was only emptiness. A pure nothingness.
No death or life. No pain or pleasure.
He didn't know whether he was conscious or unconscious.
There was nothing to feel, hear, or see.
No senses.
No worlds.
No noise. No silence.
The void was inexplicable. There was nothing to describe.
Then, a cold vibration broke the nothingness.
A godly voice, deep and resonant.
[CORE SYNCHRONIZATION: 1%]
[REBOOTING…]
A soft hum of a lady began to drift through the silence.
"Your name will be Cale."