A firm knock on the door jolted 433 awake. He squinted at the clock next to his bed: 5:53 AM. It was still dark outside, the thick curtains keeping the room in a dim twilight. The knock came again, more insistent this time, leaving him no choice but to drag himself out of the comfort of the plush bed.
He reached the door and opened it to find Vera standing there, looking as alert as if she hadn’t slept at all. Her expression was stern, giving no room for questions. The moment she saw him, she simply said, “Get dressed and come downstairs,” before turning and walking briskly down the hallway towards Flint’s room.
433 didn’t hesitate; he knew better than to waste time. He closed the door and began rummaging through the clothes laid out on a chair near the window. The hotel’s luxury seemed even more surreal in the early morning haze. He dressed quickly, gathering his thoughts, and prepared himself for whatever was coming next.
433 stepped out of his room just in time to catch sight of Vera and Flint entering the elevator. Flint, leaning against the polished metal interior, lazily held his hand over the button panel to keep the doors open. His expression was indifferent, but the gesture made it clear—433 needed to hurry up.
Without a word, 433 quickened his pace, his footsteps muffled by the hotel’s thick carpet. As he reached the elevator, Flint glanced at him, saying nothing as he let the doors slide shut. The quiet hum of the elevator filled the silence as they descended, each of them focused on the mission ahead.
When the elevator doors opened to the grand lobby, the trio was greeted by a man dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. He stood straight with an air of professionalism, his demeanor calm yet alert. As soon as he spotted them, he stepped forward, offering a polite nod. "Good morning, Awakened," he said in a crisp voice. "I’m Levi. I’ll be assisting you during your stay and ensuring your transport today."
He didn’t linger on pleasantries. Levi’s efficient manner signaled that he was accustomed to dealing with people in their line of work—or at least knew enough not to ask unnecessary questions. He gestured toward the revolving doors and began to lead them outside.
Waiting by the curb was a sleek black sedan, and its windows tinted so dark that it was impossible to see inside. The morning air was cold and crisp, contrasting sharply with the warm interior of the hotel. Levi opened the back door of the car for them without hesitation. "Your transport is ready," he said simply.
Vera, Flint, and 433 exchanged brief, knowing glances before slipping into the car. Levi shut the door with a soft click.
“There have been reports of unusual activity in the Bronx,” Levi continued, his voice measured and unwavering as he drove. “Witnesses claimed they saw people using what can only be described as superhuman abilities. That means you should expect to face other Awakened. Your mission is simple: find them and eliminate them. Failure is not an option.”
Levi’s eyes shifted to the rearview mirror, locking briefly with each of them. “And remember,” he added, voice lowering to a more ominous tone, “your identities must remain secret. If they discover who you are, you’ll be hunted down and murdered in your sleep. Do you understand?”
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Vera merely nodded, her gaze hardened in resolve. Flint stayed silent, his face betraying nothing as he took in Levi’s warning. 433, however, felt a familiar tightening in his chest—a mixture of fear and determination.
As the car sped toward the Bronx, the city outside began to blur, the morning light doing little to pierce the tension building inside the vehicle.
***
It only took thirty minutes for Levi to navigate the narrow streets, eventually pulling into a shadowy, deserted corner of the Bronx. The area was far from the bustling city center, marked by worn-down buildings and dimly lit alleys. As they came to a stop, Levi turned in his seat to address them one last time.
“This is your stop,” he said curtly. “You’re on your own from here. Search the place and gather any leads you can find. Don’t leave a trail.”
Without waiting for a reply, Levi opened the doors. Vera stepped out first, surveying the surroundings with a sharp eye. Flint followed, casually rolling his shoulders as if preparing for what was to come. 433 was the last to exit, his senses already on high alert, scanning every shadow and alleyway for movement.
The air was thick with the stale scent of decay and rain-soaked pavement. The corner Levi had dropped them off at was mostly abandoned, save for a few parked cars and old, flickering streetlights. The buildings loomed overhead, their windows like dark, watchful eyes.
“Stay close,” Vera muttered as she took the lead, her voice low and focused. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”
Flint and 433 followed without a word, their steps quiet against the cracked pavement. Their silence wasn’t just out of caution; there was a palpable sense of isolation as if the reality of their mission were settling heavily on their shoulders.
They spread out slightly, each scanning the area for signs of activity. Broken windows, graffiti-marked walls, and the occasional flicker of movement in the shadows—it all painted the picture of a neighborhood left behind, a place where people only passed through to hide or disappear.
433 felt a knot of unease in his stomach as he glanced over at Vera. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, and Flint looked just as serious, his fingers twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to summon his powers. 433 couldn’t help but feel the pressure building. They were not just searching for any Awakened; they were hunting them.
***
The room was dimly lit, with old, yellowed lamps casting a sickly glow over the rough walls and the makeshift wooden table they gathered around. Four people were seated, their postures stiff and tense. They were on edge, aware of the weight of their mission but clearly divided in their focus.
Elijah leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and a scowl deepened the lines on his face. He was a tall, burly man with a shaved head and a poorly healed scar running from his temple down to his cheek. “Bloody, Boss sent us all the way here to fucking America just to find some Awakened. Fucking bastards,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and fatigue.
“Stop your complaining, Elijah. You don’t know what type of surveillance the Boss might have,” came a stern voice from across the table. The man speaking was more composed, with a sharp jawline and a military-like air. He kept his eyes on Elijah, unflinching, as if daring him to continue.
“It’s always you, Elijah,” the woman next to him chimed in, her voice cutting and impatient. She was petite but radiated an aura of authority that belied her small frame. “You’re the only one complaining. This is your job, and you signed up for this when you agreed to be experimented on, idiot.”
“Bah!” Elijah spat, waving his hand dismissively. “I know you’re all thinking the same thing. You’re just too afraid to voice it!”
“Enough!” The final member of the group snapped, her voice low and firm. Isabelle, as the others called her, had an intense presence. She sat slightly apart from the rest, her back straight and her fingers tracing the edge of a small dagger resting on the table. “You idiots are being too loud. Can’t you sense the presence of other people close as well?”
“Of course not, Isabelle,” the stern man replied, a hint of irritation slipping into his voice. “We don't have a sensory-type power like you do.”
Isabelle shot him an unimpressed look but didn’t respond. Instead, she closed her eyes, focusing on the subtle vibrations in the air. She could sense faint disturbances, the quiet hum of life beyond the room. It wasn’t clear, but something felt off.
Elijah grumbled something under his breath, clearly unhappy with being silenced, but he stayed quiet. The atmosphere in the room thickened, a shared anxiety settling over them like a heavy fog.
