Adam was on the top floor of the Stardust Hotel.

Admiring the view from the balcony, with a glass full of expensive old wine, from which he occasionally sipped quietly. He was feeling on top of the world in more ways than one, in other words.

He had it all. And he was the kind of man capable of anything to preserve it.

But it was a little lie, that wasn't enough for him. It wasn't enough to keep it. He couldn't have it all when he always wanted more and more, but what was a human being without ambition? Better to be dead.

With the passing of time (and the wine through his throat), he finally got a little dizzy. He hadn't had that much to drink, but maybe the sights hadn't helped, maybe he was a little too high.

It could also be that he was nervous because of the deal he was about to close. Or a combination of all that.

In any case, it was a nuisance. But it would pass.

Adam headed to the bathroom to wash his face, so he'd be prepared if he threw up, too. Along the way he set the glass of wine, which he hadn't even finished, on a table.

He closed the bathroom door behind him and turned around.

At that moment, what he saw in the mirror wasn't his own reflection but that of a woman he knew well. More than he would like to. His ex"wife, resplendent as the day he had met her. But it was nonsense, of course. The bathroom was empty.

"What the fuck? I didn't drink that much."

Dizzy, hallucinating? And he hadn't even finished the damn glass. It was strong alcohol, okay, but he didn't have such a low tolerance. What the hell? He ran a hand across his forehead, suddenly sweaty.

Adam rubbed his eyes, but nothing changed when he opened them again. This was too much.

"It's because this is real, Adam." It almost felt like an answer to his own thoughts, like she could open the lid of his skull and take a look at what was going on inside.

And why not, all this shit was crazy. At this point, why not?

Was he dreaming?

No, but it couldn't be real either.

"No. It's... It's impossible. You've been dead for years. What the hell is going on here? Am I drugged? Have I been drugged?"

Something in the drink. That was, of course, the most sensible explanation. It's not as if there weren't plenty of people who wanted him out of the way. Even among those he counted as allies. A man in his position had no real friends, if such a thing existed in the first place.

"This is real. You're just opening your eyes for the first time."

What did she mean by that? Speaking of crazy, he was having a conversation with someone inside a mirror. With the reflection of his dead ex wife.

Meaning, paying attention to a hallucination, whether it was the product of poison or a crumbling sanity. Wasn't that the worst mistake of all? He should be seeking medical attention right now, but perhaps the strangest thing of all was that he didn't even feel sick, he wasn't short of breath, it wasn't like he was dying, he was just a little dizzy.

"I've always been a weight on your shoulders; my breath has always been on your neck. Why did you kill me?"

"Because you couldn't keep your mouth shut, my god! I gave you everything and all I asked of you was that. But you couldn't even fulfill that little thing, so you left me no choice."

Should be anywhere but here.

Should be doing anything but arguing with the mirror. But for some reason, Adam couldn't look away. He couldn't budge.

"Why did you kill me?" she repeated. Anastasia, damn her. Even after she was dead she couldn't leave him alone.

"I told you."

"Why did you kill me?"

Again. Again!

"I already..."

But he didn't finish the sentence this time, he didn't repeat himself. The words got stuck in his throat. Because Anastasia had started to come out of the mirror, crawling.

That was more than he could bear. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

After all, it didn't matter how many times he told himself that it wasn't real, that it couldn't be real, when it seemed so to all his senses.

"Fuck me!" So, with those words shouted at the top of his lungs, he turned and ran.

He managed to get out of the bathroom before she caught him.

Caught him? Ha.

The dead belonged to the past, they couldn't catch anyone.

Adam sprinted across the room and on the way, by accident, brushed against the glass, knocking it to the floor. The glass burst into a thousand pieces. The wine that remained spread across the wood like fresh blood. What he had originally intended, in a panic, was to run out of the room and scream for help. But that was foolish. The guards would come and find nothing. All that would do would be to squander the reputation that had taken so much time and effort to build.

There was nobody in the room. What was happening to him wasn't the work of poison, either.

Otherwise, by now he would have bigger problems than simple hallucinations. He probably wouldn't even be able to run. This was just his mind running wild, with a little help from the alcohol. Maybe it had been years since he'd broken her neck, but he supposed it was eating away at him.

In the end, what Adam did was step out onto the balcony. Yes, again. He figured the clean air would do him good for clearing his head. If that didn't work, he wouldn't know what the fuck to do. But one step at a time. Maybe he'd never have to think about it. Adam took a deep breath, closing his eyes. There was nothing there. He could make her disappear the same way he had manifested her.

There was nothing and no one there.

And indeed, there wasn't. He couldn't even hear footsteps anymore.

Adam turned around with a smile on his face, though it was only a victory against his own mind. Or so he had thought, at least.

His ex"wife was no longer there. Neither in nor out of the mirror.

But the room wasn't empty either. In the middle of it was a man who looked like a living shadow, even in the middle of an expensive, welllit hotel room, his face covered by a hood, his hands around the hilt of an elegant cane. The hilt was carved in gold. It was like the head of a lion. Eyes and jaws opened wide.

Was this real, or just another hallucination?

The most terrible thing of all was, after all, not being able to trust your own senses. But he had to assume that the stranger was really there. And act accordingly. He couldn't afford to do otherwise.

"Who the hell are you? Get out before I call security."

"You think you're on top of the world?" The shadow spoke. "Fly, then."

So...

He was pushed over the balcony railing. Adam stared open"mouthed, stretching his hands upward as if he still had time to grab the balcony, to save himself.

His hands blurred in the sunlight, which burned brightly. Until they seemed to disappear.

Or as if his fingers were those rays of sunlight.

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It was the closest he had ever been to the top of the world, perhaps. And it was only a fleeting illusion. He was forced to realize that he was only falling.

Adam began to scream.

He had become aware of his situation. But not how desperate he should be. True desperation is knowing you couldn't do anything, but still he flailed his arms and legs as he fell, as he screamed like he was vomiting up his soul.

Almost as if he still had hope of finding some foothold.

As if he still had hope of saving himself from this one. This wasn't a movie. Even if he managed to grab onto a ledge, his arms would be ripped off.

He really couldn't do anything but endure a fall that seemed to have no end. Miles. Endless. But it would end, end in no time at all. And then there would be nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

At some point he turned around in midair.

So he saw that he wasn't exactly falling to the ground, but into a mirror floating in the air.

Although he didn't stop screaming anyway, that numbed his fear. Because the intruder could be real, unlike his ex"wife, dead for years now. Also what he had done to him.

The push.

But this?

He still held out hope that he would wake up before he hit the floor. Finding out it had been a nightmare, a bad trip or whatever. That he'd been drugged, captured, anything.

Anything but certain death.

Adam hit the mirror.

And he sank into it. Nothing broke because there was nothing to break. Sinking was not a metaphor. The panel wasn't made of glass, there was nothing but water.

——

Adam blinked slowly, dazed, still half unconscious.

That meant he wasn't dead, or was he? As he got up as best he could and looked around, there was only darkness. No, wait. Also floating in the darkness was something pale, ghostly. Fragments. That was the first word that came to his mind.

Fragments of the mirror glass? No. The mirror hadn't broken. He had sunk into the water.

He shook his head.

He didn't understand anything. Nothing at all.

"It's done."

That voice, all of a sudden. The voice of the man who had told him to fly, almost an order. And he had given him a little push to help him carry it out.

Adam, startled, turned around. He saw him standing there. As if it were real.

What was real? What was a lie?

He couldn't trust anything, not even his own five senses, the only thing a person could (or should) take for granted.

"Am I dead?" It was a useless question, of course. If he was really dead, then the man in front of him wasn't real, and this was basically the same as asking himself. If he wasn't dead, then that guy was somehow in this place. But he probably couldn't be bothered to give him any answers.

Probably, he thought. But he was dead wrong.

The intruder was very simple and straightforward with him.

"No. But you will be when you hit the ground. When, let's say, you wake up."

So this wasn't real? But what had happened in that hotel room was? Or at least most of it. Adam didn't know what to think, but he put the useless questions aside.

He was just angry. At the world, at himself.

And with his assassin.

"Do you feel satisfied? I don't know what you think you've accomplished. I'm a cog in a war machine built by someone else, nothing more."

He didn't know how this conversation was possible, but right now he didn't care. If he had to leave this world, he didn't want to leave as a helpless victim, his mouth hanging open like a half"wit.

He would attack him the only way he could to the end.

"This is not a pleasure. It's my duty," the assassin said. His assassin. "But I wouldn't be here if you hadn't brought this on yourself."

Of course he did. Of course he thought he was justified, didn't everyone? Adam clenched his fists anyway. He was basically dead already. Maybe this latest tantrum didn't make sense, but neither did controlling his emotions.

"Oh yeah? Because that bitch couldn't keep her mouth shut, threatening to spoil all my efforts for the people? For building a better future?"

The assassin disappeared.

His heart leapt into his throat. He no longer had anything to fear except the approaching end. That was precisely what it was all about. In other words, could this be a sign? He was thinking that the assassin might have disappeared because his brain was shutting down. Because he wasn't able to see him anymore.

But he appeared behind him, again. Adam gasped. He couldn't help but feel some relief, though.

Even though it didn't make sense.

Even though he was doomed anyway. It's not like this was a bargain with death. He didn't understand anything that was going on, and the answers would forever remain beyond his grasp. But the assassin was just a man like him. A man with airs, perhaps. But flesh and blood, after all.

"For her and all the other innocent blood that stains your hands."

Innocent, eh? Who decided that?

"You don't understand. Dangerous elements must be rooted out. The animal kingdom is self regulating. But we humans have perverted nature more and more since we came down from the trees. We should do what is necessary. Not what is right or wrong, because that is arbitrary. People need a firm hand to keep 'em in line!"

By the end Adam was screaming, because it frustrated him that he couldn't understand something so simple.

That he had stolen his life for such a stupid reason. He had so much to do still. His real work had barely begun, and all his effort would be wasted on the whim of a murderous madman. He could, of course, rely on his brothers to continue the work. But that was not enough for him at death's door. He wanted that for himself. He wanted at least to have been there to guide humanity on the right path.

"Just watch the news. Take a good look at the world around you. Look at the people of your ilk." Yes. The assassin was a perfect example of why control was needed.

Of what happened when the rabble could run wild with their destructive and poisonous ideas.

"And who proclaimed you that hand?"

He said it as if he hadn't decided on his own that he needed to die. Ha.

What did someone who only reaped souls and filled his mouth with moralistic tales knew about those who built?

What right did he have to judge?

"Someone has to. "This is wrong. There has to be another way." Man is a child asking to play with fire, but surely you wouldn't be so quick to take responsibility for his burns."

The assassin began to slowly circle around him. Adam, of course, moved accordingly to keep him always at least in the corner of his eye. He may as well be dead, but that didn't mean the survival instinct was going to quit after working for almost forty years.

Which now seemed extremely short to him.

"Noble words, but they only translate into more bloodshed. You're never the one who has to make sacrifices."

Adam gritted his teeth.

"This coming from a murderer, who lives only thanks to the blood of others. I was good for the world. It is not what I believe. It's what I know."

The assassin said nothing. Instead, he reached out a hand, putting in one of those ghostly pieces, which kept spinning and floating in the darkness of the void in which he found himself.

From there he extracted a match. A lit one.

"I might not be one to judge you. If there is someone on the other side, you will see them now. And then you'll know which of us was really right.

He shouldn't be able to do anything with that match, lit or unlit.

"Wait!" But Adam screamed in despair anyway. He knew what was going to happen instinctively, knew it in his damn bones. Asking "why?" or "how?" had never made sense.

It was too late to change anything now, though.

Hadn't it been too late all along?

He threw the match on Adam.

Setting him ablaze, just like that. Even though it shouldn't have been that easy, it was as if he was doused with gasoline from head to toe. The waves of pain stole any doubts or thoughts from his head, stole even his sense of self. Ironically, the pain was what freed him from the pain. Soon he was nothing more than a mass of burning flesh, not a human being.

Even as he continued to scream.

Writhing. Falling to his knees.

He didn't see the assassin turn and walk away without looking back. He wouldn't have cared. He had nothing left in him.

——

The body hit the ground. And the only thing that could happen happened. There was silence as a consequence, even in a city as crowded as this one. Though it didn't last long, of course.

He could see nothing but blurs from so high up. There was a lot special about him, but not his eyesight. Or not that special, at least. But the crowd's reaction told the whole story, anyway.

"Oh, my god!"

"His head..."

Even Adam's mother wouldn't recognize him now because there was nothing to recognize, as was natural after such a long fall. He had exploded like a ripe melon, splattering the ground, splattering passers-by, splattering even, surely, the wheels of some passing cars.

He had ruined so many lives, aspiring to the sun. And now he was just an anonymous corpse, headless. Lying on the ground.

Where anyone could pass over him.

It was a just and fitting end for him.

Nothing more and nothing less than what he had brought upon himself.

Those who talked about the need to make hard choices, somehow confusing cruelty and cynicism for the hard road, were curiously never the ones who sacrificed themselves. They always demanded it of others. Now Adam's blood fed the earth.

More than all he had accomplished with his supposed efforts for the common good, surely.

"Did he really fall from so high?" asked another citizen, and maybe jerked their head back to take a look. But there was nothing they could see from there. Of course.

Smiling at a job well done, the assassin disappeared back into the hotel room.

By the time reinforcements and authorities arrived, he would have disappeared without a trace.

Episode 1: END