[Three Days Later]
Lynx stared out at the towering structures of Utopia through her small apartment window as the artificial sun peeked over the horizon. No matter how the blue-eyed woman felt about this place, she'd be lying if she said that the view wasn't breathtaking to look at. The vast city stretched out beneath her like a glittering jewel. One that was filled with lush resorts, lavish casinos, fancy restaurants, and sparkling towers of colored glass. It was truly the perfect escape, the perfect place to pretend the universe was a place of endless ecstasy. But for Lynx, Utopia had never felt like paradise.
Half a week had passed since the heist at Isaac Korrin's mansion. The job was done, all the money had been transferred to her secret account, and Lynx finally had the funds to leave Utopia behind for good. A small fortune, enough to get her off this damned colony and onto a shuttle that would take her to far away from here. Hopefully, to somewhere peaceful where she could build a life without the constant weight of a gun in her hand or the burden of a stolen data chip in her pocket.
'I guess my mercenary days are done too, huh?' The woman thought to herself with a slight smile on her face.
Lynx had always been a mercenary, a thief, a woman with no real identity except the one she forged in the shadows of others. Up until now, she had lived for the rush of a well-planned job, for the taste of success when the heist went perfectly. It was her way of surviving. But as the days passed, she started to see the emptiness that stretched beneath the surface of that existence. The late-night meetings with shady contacts, the endless betrayals, the faces of the people she'd crossed-all those lives she'd disrupted for a paycheck. They haunted her more than the pain of withdrawal ever had.
Lynx had spent years numbing herself to the world, letting the edge of addiction carve away at her body and mind. The pain was easier to endure when she couldn't feel anything at all. But that changed after Korrin's mansion. After she was finally able to receive proper treatment for her glitter addiction, a combination of detox agents and therapy that left her shaky, weak, and vulnerable. The physical withdrawal was brutal, but it had been nothing compared to the emotional battle that followed. She had to face the reality of what she'd become. And when she did, she didn't like what she saw.
The drugs had clouded her judgment and made her a machine for hire. But now, with the clarity of sobriety, the weight of her choices was suffocating.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the glass of water on the nearby table. She still hadn't been able to shake the feeling that something was missing.
Her entire life had been a series of one-night stands, short-term contracts, and shallow relationships. She had surrounded herself with people who used her, and in return, she used them, never staying in one place too long. Utopia had been no different for her than for anyone else.
The hollow ache in her chest, the gnawing emptiness that had taken root after years of living like a ghost. The void that her father left behind after he died.
However, all of that was finally coming to an end. And she realized that the only way to break free from it was to leave. To leave Utopia. To leave this life of violence, crime, and hollow pleasures behind.
She needed peace.
The decision had come quietly, in the middle of a long, sleepless night only a few months ago. After days of internal debate and preparation, Lynx knew what she had to do. She couldn't live like this anymore-not as a mercenary, not as a thief, and certainly not as a drug addict waiting to drop dead at any given moment. She had been living on borrowed time, and it was time to cash in her chips and walk away for good.
Trafalgar.
The name of the large, agricultural colony had been on her radar for the last few weeks or so. It was a quiet settlement in the L-2 colony cluster. One that was all the way on the far side of the moon. The kind of place that was peaceful, remote, and far from the chaos of Utopia. It was the perfect place to start fresh.
The people there lived simple, honest lives, cultivating crops in the cold, distant reaches of civilized space. It wasn't a glamorous location. It didn't have any amazingly glitzy cities, and it was nowhere near the wealth or excess of Utopia. But it was exactly the kind of place Lynx thought she should be. And for the first time in years, Lynx thought she might be able to find something resembling happiness there.
She had the resources, money, and enough contacts to set herself up with a new identity. The old Lynx, the one who had lived for the rush of the next job, would be left behind. There was nothing here for her anymore. Especially not here.
And so, she began making arrangements.
Lynx had no interest in facing the people she'd worked with in the past, the ones who knew her for the mercenary she had been. She'd burned most of her bridges by now, and most of the ones that remained weren't worth salvaging. She'd already contacted a few trusted sources to secure transport and a new identity. All that was left was to wrap up the last few loose ends.
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of it all settle in her bones. It was time to let go. It was time for a fresh start. She would leave Utopia in the rearview mirror, a place where she had once thrived but now felt like a distant memory. A cold, suffocating reminder of everything she no longer wanted.
-(o)-
Two days later, Lynx stood in front of her small mirror, carefully adjusting the collar of her brand-new jacket. Her appearance had always been secondary, but now, standing in front of her reflection, she couldn't help but notice the changes. Her face was thinner than it used to be, and the bags under her eyes were fading now that the worst of the withdrawal was over. Her once unruly hair had been trimmed to shoulder length, and her body, though still lean, had regained some of its lost strength.
For the first time in a while, she felt like a different person. Like someone who could finally take control of her life instead of letting the tide of addiction and violence carry her wherever it willed.
Her bags were packed, and everything she needed for a new life was now with her. Everything she'd worked for, everything she'd stolen, everything she'd sacrificed-it was all worth it.
For the first time in years, Lynx felt something she hadn't known in a long time: hope. It was a fragile thing, like the first light of dawn after a long night, but it was there. She could taste it on the edge of her tongue. A chance for something new. Something real.
The door to her apartment opened, and she took one last look at the life she was leaving behind. She knew it wasn't going to be easy. Starting fresh never was. But as she stepped out into the hallway, a new sense of purpose rose within her.
She wasn't running away this time. She was running toward something.
A new beginning