Prologue

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**Prologue: The Shadow of Silence**

Since the moment Marco opened his eyes to the world, it was clear that his life was never going to be normal. His mother died during childbirth, and his father, who identity was a mystery, never showed up. So, from the start, the world had marked him with the label of orphan. No roots, no home, no name beyond the one given by the nurses at the hospital, Marco was taken to an orphanage in the slums of Los Angeles, a place where children were more of a bother than a gift.

The orphanage was not the typical refuge where children find comfort and affection. Instead, it was a dark and desolate place, more like a prison than a home. The children were treated like numbers, like shadows in a system that seemed to have forgotten them. However, behind the closed doors of this institution, something much more sinister was happening.

The orphanage served as a facade for a clandestine organization that selected the most promising orphans to train them in the arts of stealth and death. At five years old, Marco was selected. He never knew why he was chosen, whether it was because of his hard stare, his natural silence, or simply because he had no one who would miss him. But once selected, his life changed forever.

The training began immediately. The first days, Marco thought it was a strange game. They taught him to move without making noise, to hide in the shadows, to slide through rooms like a ghost. At first, he thought it was fun. But then, when the training became harder, more intense, and more violent, he understood that it was not a game at all.

By six years old, Marco already knew how to handle a knife with lethal precision. His small body was quick and agile, able to dodge and attack with an efficiency that should not belong to a child. But in that place, childhood didn't exist. Every lesson was preparation for a future in which his life would depend on his ability to eliminate a threat before it had time to react.

The trainers, men and women with faces hardened by years of work in the shadows, spoke in various languages. It did not take long before Marco began to understand them. They teached him English, Spanish, Russian, Mandarin, Arabic. Each language was a door to a new world, a new set of instructions that he had to master. By eight years old, Marco could already communicate in five different languages. They didn't just teach him to speak, but also to think in those languages, to understand the cultures and customs behind the words. Everything was part of the training to be the perfect weapon.

As Marco grew, so did the intensity of his training. Small weapons, like knives and guns, became extensions of his body. They taught him to shoot with both hands, to disassemble and assemble any weapon in a matter of seconds. He learned to make explosives with household materials and to read the weak points in a building's security with just a glance. By ten years old, Marco was already an expert in infiltration, capable of entering and exiting any place without being detected.

But the training did not just limit to combat and stealth. Marco was also instructed in the art of manipulation and deception. He learned to observe people, to understand their fears and desires, and to use them to his advantage. They teached him to change his appearance, to assume identities, to be anyone he needed to be at any moment. His face, which used to be that of an innocent child, became a mask, a blank canvas on which he could project any image that suited him.

As Marco mastered these skills, his personality began to change. He became reserved, quiet. Words turned into tools that he used carefully, never wasting an unnecessary syllable. In a world where any mistake could be the last, silence was his best ally. His dark eyes, once full of childish curiosity, hardened with a coldness that unsettled the other children at the orphanage.

Life outside the training was almost nonexistent. There were no friends, no games, no laughter. For Marco, the concept of a happy childhood was as strange as the idea of a family. He lived in a constant state of alertness, his senses always sharpened, his mind always calculating. Relationships were seen as weaknesses, vulnerabilities that he could not afford. He learned to be alone, to trust only himself.

As the years passed, Marco began to understand the purpose behind his training. The organization he worked for was nothing more than a network of hired killers, mercenaries who sold their skills to the highest bidder. And he, Marco, was one of their most promising tools. But instead of frightening him, this revelation only strengthened his resolve. If this was the world in which he had to live, then he would be the best at it. There was no other option. Not for someone like him.

At fourteen years old, Marco carried out his first real mission. It was a simple job, a target that required nothing more than to get in and out without being seen. He completed it with a precision that even surprised his trainers. But for Marco, it was just an extension of his training, another step on the path he had been forced to walk. He felt no satisfaction, no remorse. He simply did his duty.

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