The air conditioning unit of Lynx's tiny apartment hummed softly, the only sound that broke the depressing silence of the room.
The comfortable atmosphere that she was currently enjoying felt worlds apart from the chaos that Lynx had just escaped from the day before. The woman sat on the edge of her old sofa, her legs hanging loosely, and her hands gripping the edges of a metal table. The fading sunlight streamed through the small windows, casting long shadows that stretched across the room. Outside, the view was breathtaking-a sprawling metropolis that seemed to go on forever. Utopia. The perfect paradise where the wealthy flaunted their fortunes, and the rest of the world came to escape their struggles and indulge in excess.
'What a shitty place.' The woman laughed. It felt like the first time she had genuinely smiled in years.
It seemed almost comical how amazing everything felt at this very moment. Yet, here she was, sitting alone in the midst of it all, still feeling just as hollow and empty as before.
Suddenly, a soft ping interrupted the woman's thoughts. Lynx then took a moment to glance at the nearby phone. The message was brief, but it told her everything she needed to know.
-(o)-
Bonus payment delivered. You did well. Gonna miss you, Lynx.
-M
-(o)-
It was from Milo.
Lynx's gaze sharpened as she reviewed the details of the transfer. The money was all there, just as the man had promised. A nice bonus on top of her ill-gotten gains. That was Milo for you, always quick to make sure that his people got their money. But this wasn't just about payment for the job. This was the result of her extortion of Isaac Korrin, the affluent mogul who owned Utopia's most luxurious casinos. Now, the woman had twice as much money as she originally planned. She had played the game, taken what she could, and now, she was in a position to leave this place behind for good.
'I can finally leave.'
But as Lynx stared at the numbers on the screen, a different weight settled on her chest. A dull, persistent pressure that she couldn't ignore. The files she'd stolen from Korrin weren't just about human trafficking and financial schemes. They were far darker. And the elite of Utopia, Korrin and his associates, were all complicit in it. And now, Lynx knew the truth. She had handed the files off to Milo, and to the buyer who would likely profit immensely from them in the near future. But what had she truly done? What was the cost of her actions?
She had taken the money and walked away. But in doing so, she had basically turned a blind eye to the destruction she had uncovered. To the lives that were being ruined, traded, and destroyed. The weight of that realization was suffocating. She was now officially a part of it. Complicit in the darkness of the place she called home for entire life.
Her mind drifted back to the conversation she had with Korrin. He had been so sure of himself, so smug, never once thinking she would be a threat to what he and his friends created. She'd used his arrogance against him, played him like a fool. It almost felt poetic. The bastard deserved it. But the files-the documents, the photographs, the names, the accounts-they weren't just a criminal conspiracy. They were the gears of Utopia itself, a system built on the exploitation of the weak, and the vulnerable. And she had been part of it all.
Lynx's fingers twitched as she thought of the buyers, those shadowy figures who would use the stolen information for profit. Was there anyone out there who actually cared about the victims caught in Korrin's web aside from her? Could they make a real difference, unlike she could? She was faced with a choice now. She could walk away, take her payout, and vanish into the stars, leaving all of this behind. Or she could try to do something about it-whatever that might mean, whatever the cost.
Lynx sank deeper into the sofa while rubbing her eyes, exhaustion weighing heavily on her mind.
The truth was, she was tired. Tired of the constant fight for survival. Tired of being a mercenary. Tired of the addiction that had eaten away at her for years. The withdrawal symptoms still lingered, but she'd learned to push through them, to keep moving. It was a battle, one that became easier when she had a goal, a purpose. But now, with the job done and the money in her account, she felt no purpose. The crushing realization hit her hard-her life had been one endless cycle of violence, corruption, and pain. And now, she finally had a chance to escape it all.
Her addiction gnawed at her, the urge to numb the pain with some more glitter always lingering beneath the surface. But now, she had enough to receive treatment. Not only that, the woman now had the means to escape Utopia, to leave behind the drugs, the violence, and the people who had used her. She could go. Start fresh. All she had to do was walk away.
But was she strong enough?
Her fingers tapped on the metal coffee table in front of her, a rhythm matching the anxious beat of her heart. The thought of leaving everything behind-the only life she had known-was just as terrifying as it was liberating. She had always been a mercenary, a shadow. A survivor. But now, with the weight of the truth pressing on her, she couldn't help but wonder if there was another way out. Could she ever break free from the cycle that had defined her?
The woman took a moment to stare out the window, her eyes following the glittering lights of Utopia as evening fell. From here, it looked perfect. Peaceful. It was almost hard to believe that underneath it all, it was a system built on suffering.
"Maybe it's time to quit." Lynx whispered to herself.
Lynx stood and began pacing, her mind torn between conflicting desires. She could take the money and disappear into the endless expanse of space, leaving Utopia behind. But would that truly be an escape? Would she forever be haunted by guilt, by the weight of her own actions?
No, she couldn't just walk away. Not after everything she had discovered.
Her hands clenched into fists. She had been part of this system, a cog in the machine. But that didn't mean she had to stay that way. She could choose another path. She could be something else.
The temptation to run was strong, but the urge to do something-anything-about the horrors she had uncovered was stronger. Lynx knew she couldn't just ignore it, couldn't leave it behind without at least trying to make a difference.
She glanced at the smartphone in her hand. Milo's message was still there, the praise for her work. And the promise of more jobs and more money if she continued on her current path. But for the first time in years, it didn't feel like enough.
She was going to leave Utopia, but before she did, there was something she had to do.
Lynx took a deep breath and began typing a simple message.
-(o)-
I need to talk. Meet me in an hour. I've got plans.
-Lynx
-(o)-
With that, Lynx set a new course, one that would take her far from Utopia. But not before she made her stand. There was no going back now.