The Sun Sets

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(FVEY POV)


Come to think of it, I was never one to reminisce, unlike someone like Britain, who did so quite often. I could never understand it when he invited me over for some tea time and get that misty, faraway look in his eyes every time an old story was brought up.


Perhaps I was just not an old grandpa yet, or never had the time, nor the will to do such a thing but honestly, what even was there to remember for me?


The war? Hah, no thanks. The aftermath was even worse and there wasn't really anything significant before all that which I could recall. From what I could tell, my life was simply defined by my missions, my tasks, and my debts to the world– things I would rather forget. For a life so riddled with danger and risk, it was quite mundane so perhaps, that was why I never reminisced.

How misfortunate, right?








No, I can't really say I've never looked back at my life, since I have. Many many times, in fact, but none have ever been voluntary nor 'good' experiences. It was just how my Awakening worked, apparently.

I found early on that when my souls detached from the vessels I sewed them upon, a reaction was triggered, similar to the phenomenon that occurs when a person is about to die.





What did people call it again? Ah, yes– when life flashes before one's eyes.


(Flashback)...

The handler glanced up from his desk and furrowed his brow at me with incredulity clearly in his eyes. "You want to ditch? Now, of all times?"


"Yes, now of all times," I sighed with a hidden eye roll, thinking that my reasoning had been crystal clear. "The situation is simply too delicate for me to continue barging in. Have you seen Moscow?! Counter-intelligence is everywhere- one wrong move may just result in all our progress going up in smoke so I think I'll sit this out for a while."


I could hear the inaudible snicker in the other's throat as he noted something down and I folded my arms with annoyance when I saw that the note was in code. Another mission, despite all my protests.


"Well too bad, we're already short on manpower, we need all hands on deck," the man said dismissively. "Stuff doesn't hand itself over. As long as you stick with protocol, you'll be fine."


"You mean you'll be fine," I grumbled under my breath as I snatched the note, memorized it in a snap, and destroyed it with little satisfaction. Another day, another mission, another careless bargain with life and death. Compared to the network I had worked in during the war, this was far too sketchy for my liking, especially with suspicion at an all-time high.





Actually, come to think of it, life had been pretty shit ever since I had made that agreement with the head honchos of the unseen world or whatever. Even after waking up one day to find that I had become an "Organization." (still no clue what that meant)



I thought I would be working with important people, with those countryhumans that...( uh... what did he go by these days??? ...ah yes) NATO wouldn't shut up about. I thought I would become a key member in upholding the delicate peace through my own means but no. Instead, I was stuck in this smelly hell hole with careless jackasses as my bosses.





"Hey! Watch your attitude, Blindfold." Ah yes, another thing to hate. The nicknames. "You're a reliable man but don't get too cocky. You're lucky that we even allowed you in, considering your fucked up track record, so be grateful."


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