After our explosive entrance, the next two weeks fell into a repetitive cycle across London. After I hogtied Kinsley off to our "protection racket," I raked in thousands of pounds as I took dozens of names. I then sent the city into disarray as I grappled off Big Ben, duked it out with bouncers near Buckingham, and shot out mobsters through London's Eye.

Most of the money I got from The Messenger's stooges got funneled back into the community these monsters hurt in the first place. While also giving us plenty of juicy incrimination to turn over to the authorities once this war ends. Yet, the constant win streak didn't make me feel any better. It just made me feel more aimlessly than I was before. The same thoughts I had during that night with Bonnie persisted. Though given my current foe, I couldn't help but tool my struggle towards the stories of Greek Mythology, wondering if I would share the fate of so many characters.

Was I Tantalus, a dreaded soul doomed to chase a paradise out of reach under my guise of the Paladin? Or maybe I'm Sisyphus, doomed to fall towards my darker nature and repeat the same dread cycle of violence and bloodshed till Charon ferries me to a very different Underworld.

This swirling schism kept me awake even on my nights off, as I couldn't entirely fall asleep. So I decided to rely on an old childhood remedy of mine: Tea dipped snickerdoodles with a side of milk chocolate shavings for taste. Like a Mad scientist, I dished out my dreaded creation till I heard a slight creak of a floorboard.

From there, my body might as well have been spring-loaded as I broke my cup and held the jagged edge to the person's throat. Only to regain reason again and see that it was Persona, already in a combative stance while keeping as calm as ever.

After seeing them panoramically shift through an entire closet worth of outfits, it felt surreal to see them in light red plaid pajama pants and a gray chest binder. Panicked revolution washed over me like a tsunami as I put the cup down and prepared the two dreaded words I always seemed to return to.

"I'm so-"

"It's alright Sarah. I'd figured with the way you've been working, your circadian rhythm would be out of whack," they said as they started to sweep up the porcelain shards. "Let me get you another drink."

"Oh, thank I'm go-"

I then saw them bust out a bottle full of vodka. An awkward silence came from both of us until Persona caught themselves.

"Oh, don't worry, the bottle is an old souvenir from Russia. Of course, if you want the real thing, I've got that too."

I gave the proposition only two seconds of hesitation.

"Sure."

Of my many vices and struggles, alcoholism was the one I never partook in. Always felt like it would gunk up my system too much in my quest for redemption in all that. So to test my first swig of grade-A vodka, legitimately felt like James punched me in the face. Persona, on the other hand, took their shot with no hesitation as they tried getting to the heart of the matter.

"So, that little surprise back there. Do you want to talk about it?"

Knowing this game, I couldn't tell if it was a genuine cry for help or a mandatory debrief, and I was still too drunk to care.

"They've been happening for a while now, and I don't know why," I say while stretching my left hand out, "One day I'm coasting above water fine as a daisy, and the next, I'm drowning and clawing away at anything to hold on," I finish while shakingly balling up my fist.

"I think that's what it's like for most people."

"But I'm not like most people. Not anymore, and if I keep slipping, then …"

"You're afraid you'll lose all this?"

I then tried to recollect myself.

"Kind of. When I vaulted into this life, I was alone—no friends, no family, and as I spiraled out. I did a lot of bad things. Unforgivable things, and yet as much as I regret it all, as much as I would like to take it all back. I became good at it. Too good at it. And when I finally decided to crawl out of that pit the only way I knew how, I never got to ask, who am I now? Does that make any fucking sense to you?"

Persona then looked towards me as if they were struggling to remember some difficult question on a pop quiz. Once they recalled, I saw them transform right before my eyes. Their posture grew slouched, eyes droopy, and chest loosened as they had just finished a 3-hour play. The airy tone of voice faded towards something more grave. More real.

"Of course, I told you before, Sarah, we're on the same wavelength here. I've had my fair share of identity crises."

A part of me was in disbelief.

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"But you make it all look so easy."

"Only because I had a lot of practice. Before all this "secret agent stuff" happened. It was just Mom and Me against the world. We didn't have a home or other family, but in her arms, it never really mattered. When we hid under bridges and dark alleyways, she turned them into castles and mansions through words alone. Till she passed, that is."

Their eyes then started getting misty as they let out a heavy gulp. I then put my hands over theirs.

"You don't have to go one if you don't-"

"No, it's fine. The more I remember her, the more inevitable it was. No amount of white lies could hide the purple bruises or the men I sometimes saw around her. It didn't make finding her body more accessible or witnessing the police entirely ignore her case, leaving me to do nothing but spiral. I jumped from place to place, bounced from name to name. Always running and never staying. Till I found this.

Persona then spread over the entire room, showing off their grand collection of knick-knacks I had tolerated till now.

"This life, I mean. I walked into Titan by accident, and when Daniels found me, he hired me on the spot. Under the face of another, I finally found myself. With the agents I work with, the souvenirs I collect, and the people who I make sure are never forgotten. Hell, I even got a lady out of this. Can you imagine that?" they said sentimentally.

The question weighed on me for a while till I replied.

"No. Especially on that last part, I tried before, but romance and intimacy have never been my thing."

Persona's face scrunched up in confusion before finally getting the message.

"Right, sorry, got ahead of myself. Regardless, who you are isn't about whatever label people put on you or even what you did. It's about what you strive to do in the here and now. Because no one can take that away from you. Does that make any fucking sense?" they said compassionately.

Every word from Persona rang through my body like a shock because, through all my doubts, I knew, at the very least, what I wanted to do. For the first time in a long, my heart felt warm amidst the late winter air.

"Yeah, we're on the same wavelength. Thank you so much, Pe-"

"Peyton. Call me Peyton, Sarah."

My smile then grew all the wider.

"Thank you, Peyton. That's exactly what I need to hear," I said as I finally yawned and stood up for bed.

"Don't mention it, Sarah. Before you go, though, I've got one last thing to say."

"Yes,"

"Peyton" then shifted gears again, transforming their diction and posture to something far older. Like they aged 50 years in 5 seconds, their sheer aura seemed to suck all life and air out of the room like a black hole. Their heterochromatic eyes turned souless while giving a deathly stare to match.

"I've seen the worst humanity has to offer. Be thankful you aren't it."

On that note, I breifly wondered what hellish stoires Peyton trapped in front of their eyes, before nodding approvingly and rest before my next mission.

After all the fancy outfits and disguises, it was downright refreshing to do a downright smash-and-grab. Given the treacherous lot I've seen, it makes all the sense to have an underground bank to divvy up the ill-gotten dough. I didn't expect it to be in a supermarket outside Bethnal Green. Though I guess it was poetic, having the place supposed to feed people is also the place that steals their money.

Symbolism aside I didn't dare let it stop me as I kocked out the guards at the start of their two-hour rotation. Whether innocent or not, I loaded them in a van for the morning.

"Okay, Pally, the street cameras gave me a good 3-D building layout. Odds are there cash should be in a large panic room-style door stuffed to the right of the manager's office,"

"Got it," I said as I proceeded to move out of the way of the various cameras and shoot them down.

Once that debacle was solved, I locked the office door. It was allowing me to run into an office messier than a dumpster. Thrown-together papers and endless bins covered almost every shelf and desk I could find. Too bad it was about to get messier as I pushed off the desk to turn the door to my right entirely.

From there, I was met with Goliath in the shape of 5 inches of steel behind a digital number key. Good thing I had my slingshot. Even though commlinks, I heard Wiz's fingers clack away at subsonic speed before looking through my eyes to see the buttons most needed to press.

"Okay, if I calculate the Achoo! The concentration of the fingerprints, AChoo! Try out the input, 3944."

To the letter, I followed Wiz's order. A tense millisecond passes before I hear a dozen locks spin open and unlock.

"You are too good at this, Wiz."

Victory itself beamed on my face as I proceeded to open the door, ready to see my prize. Only to come up with zilch. Nada. Nothing. Instead of having enough cash to fill a room, all there was left was a familiar sight that pricked my skin.

Hephastus's dreaded golden automaton had made a comeback. In my presence, the tiny bot sparked to life before summoning a holographic image of a man. Compared to the flashy entrances of Arachne, this man was the complete opposite. His outfit was pedestrian, carrying a faded army green, buttoned-up moto jacket which replaced its collar with golden hems.

Silver shoulder, knee, and elbow pads with dark gold outlines accented his stocky but short frame. What caught my eye most was his accessories on the bottom. On the latter, he seemed to wear a silver army helmet with gold wings on the sides. These same designs appeared on their gray army boots. Through a brief few seconds, the man seemingly stumbled with outstretched hands, like he was moving through a camera.

"Is this thing even on Hephastus? I swear your machines are far too complex for their good."

Once he finished fiddling, he then made an upright army stance as he said.

"Greetings Paladin. My name is Hermes. Forgive me for the uncanny circumstances, but I always did appreciate a Human touch. Especially if we're never going to see each other face to face, much less eye to eye."

My stomach immediately dropped to a bottomless pit, realizing how screwed I was.

"I must say I got your message loud and clear, but I don't think you ever read mine. Then again most people can't. It's always the micro instead of the macro. Always what's in it for me instead of what more can I do? Never realizing that wars are won for the people willing to lose the most. That's why we're going win this world and why I let you rats fester in. So I can wipe the board with all of you."

Immediately raised my commlink, trying desperately to get Wiz's voice, only to end up with thick static as the hologram kept talking.

"As this place becomes your tomb, remember that for every second you waste, here is another agent you could've saved. Feel free to kill as many of mine, though, as you can. It'll make setting up new management even easier. Either way, I'll bid you farewell,"

The message then dissolved as the lights turned on and bullets started firing.