Powerless.

The mission was a failure. Not only has the target escaped, but he'd also claimed a victim. Uriel Barron, the Prince of Barronia, had all but perished at his unknown hand.

The kingdom fell into disarray and confusion. How could the mighty Prince akin to an Angel be killed so easily? Question after question spilled out the masses' mouths, filling the air with skepticism and distrust. It was all but chaos in the public for days.

After one week had passed, the bare minimum had occurred and Uriel was given a Royal funeral; everyone he loved gathered around the casket being lowered into the grave while a choir sang a haunting requiem for the deceased young man.

Anthony, white eyepatch covering his left eye, watched from the side with both hands idle. Alora in her wheelchair felt the tears pour out uncontrollably—covering her face to prevent continuous sobbing. Talen stood behind her with one hand on her shoulder and both eyes on the casket.

This was reality. Even so, it didn't make sense. How could Uriel die so easily? Was that man so powerful he could overwhelm the Prince without even revealing his technique? He sighed, raising his arm and wiping his tearful eyes.

'That doesn't matter anymore. My best friend's dead and his killer's still out there. But why? Why is he allowed to be out there? I hate that. I hate every part of this bullshit. It's ridiculous! Why are we so powerless we can't even avenge him? Can we truly do nothing against this threat? Is there… is there even a point of trying at all?'

Talen looked up and spotted the King some feet away from him, speaking the eulogy he'd made for his son. King Barron. The Supreme of Barronia. How true was his moniker? If he was the King, couldn't he solve this issue without so much as lifting a finger? He could've prevented this and yet, no despairing tears fell from his eyes. Did he feel no guilt at all? How blind had he been to such blatant carelessness? Despicable.

Amit leaned down, wrapping his arms around his sister's neck and pecking her forehead. Alora was confused; sniffling through the tears, reaching out to him. He smiled, grabbing her hand only momentarily before gently releasing it as he turned to Tony. After briefly patting his shoulder, the man pushed through the crowd—his friends' heads turning to watch Talen vanish like a ghost in the wind.

That day was the last they'd see of Talen for a while. The King's daughter would allegedly turn into a shut-in and never leave the palace. In truth, Marie Barron's banishment courtesy of the Prince's demise was apparent. She would have to live on her own in the streets of the Capital for years to come.

Alora decided to leave the Syndicate after healing, opting instead to become a professional Enforcer. Thanks to her mastery of the 'Area Empowerment' technique, she quickly raised the ranks and became a Rank-1 Enforcer capable of annihilating powerless foes.

Anthony remained as the Syndicate Head. Working from the shadows, trying to make some sort of difference, he sighed from behind his desk. Violators, Displacements—each crime committed increased tenfold even when they did their job correctly. The wave of villains was endless. Was there any way to stop it?

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his neck. Eyes opening, he spotted the frame on the desk with all of his friends together. Then again, they weren't just his friends. He owed each of them equal parts of his life, but if the Prince hadn't said something that fateful day before they fled to Arronsburg, he might've very well been executed two months prior. It didn't make sense. How… could he be dead?

Talen resigned. Not only from the Syndicate but also as a member of the Amit Family House. He went to live in Barronia and started going to law school, where he would eventually become a criminal defense lawyer for his firm. Because of Amit's name, he received numerous clients.

The day Prince Uriel was killed by an unknown Displacement would be remembered eternally by the Capital of Kismet. As a result, fear of Fate-related crimes grew exponentially and as a result, the Displacements grew stronger. Deaths increased; as did their power.

5 years following the Prince's demise, statistical analysis showed that out of every 10 people, five of them were slaughtered by sadistic Violator attacks. A time of fear. All the while his kingdom was bleeding, King Barron in his palace slouched on his fist while the Crown of Fate shone heavenly gold.

Though even as the world burns to singes, life goes on. The ordinary person keeps moving forward. Getting up in the morning, taking the bus to work, setting behind that desk, and getting home hours later. After ten years, that was the life Talen was accustomed to.

February 2022.

The sun was starting to set. Silently pushing folders into his bag, Talen threw it over his shoulder and tightened the grip. He grumbled, turning around to scan the firm.

'Where is she?'

Finally, the toilet was heard flushing behind her as she exited the bathroom, throwing the newspaper onto her desk. Talen chuckled loudly, his assistant walking to her desk and raising a brow as she sat down.

"What?" Cait asked.

Talen shook his head. "Nothing. Don't stay too late, alright? It's Valentine's Day. You should have fun too. Anyway, see you tomorrow—"

She stood up. "Wait."

Curious expression across his features, the lawyer stopped in his tracks with a tilted head. He needn't wait any longer the moment she withdrew the heart-shaped gift from the box and handed it to her boss; an infectious smile across her lips.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sir. You told me your mother and sister send you chocolates every year no matter what, right? Well, I thought it was sweet so… I wanted to be a part of it too. Here. For being a good boss and having nice hair!"

Talen smiled. He watched as she handed him the chocolate and leaned up to his cheek, simply pecking his face before withdrawing her lips.

"Thank you, Cait. You're not a good subordinate but you're sure as hell pretty. It's good to look at you sometimes when I'm too tired to work," he said.

She rolled her eyes, walking back to her desk.

"Men usually have that problem with me. I'm just so beautiful they get distracted instead of working," she said, throwing her hair back with a smile while opening the newspaper.

He sighed. "Now you ruined it. Well, thanks anyway. You can have some of the joint I left in the ashtray on my desk."

"Since when do I smoke?"

"Dunno." Tal shrugged. "Don't smoke it then. You're annoying me. Bye."

He walked out the firm's front door, covering his face to prevent a smile and looking back one last time. Then, he looked into the real world before him. Falling from the sky like fallen angels from heaven was none other than raindrops. The released umbrella-shaded black protected himself from being drenched in the downpour as he walked down the street. Eventually, he'd make it home and when he did, he wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore.

He sighed. Even a decade later, the past still plagued him. How incessant.