Chương 64: The shattered cage

An organization without an official name—that’s how the island’s inhabitants refer to 'the agency.' My knowledge about it stems purely from what I was informed during my employment.

The agency is divided into three distinct branches: administrative, juridical, and executive.

The administrative branch, being the largest, handles communications between employees and clients. It’s further divided into the secretariat, human resources, accounting, databasing, and IT security.

Following in size is the juridical branch, which delves into the criminal records of both employees and clients, manipulating these records when necessary. This branch greenlights or dismisses missions, liaises with the police or courts in the event of trials, and addresses any disputes arising between the executive and administrative wings.

Lastly, there’s the executive branch, of which I am a member. We aren’t confined to the HQ; instead, we roam freely until a mission buzzes our phones. Each member is ranked based on the success of their previous missions, with compensation matching their performance. Mission assignments factor in various considerations, from individual skills to our physical location relative to the client. Those who achieve a rank within the top 50 are bestowed the title 'Koteloppolo'—translating to 'the defenders' in Omen. These elites handle the most challenging tasks, often assembling teams of lower-ranked executives to ensure mission success. They act as mentors, establishing their own payment terms, a boon especially for those with limited field experience. Legends whisper that the most accomplished Koteloppolo receive directives straight from the 'Banta,' the pinnacle of executive rank, accompanied by a plethora of benefits.

A typical mission unfolds as follows: A client approaches the agency, where the secretariat gathers the required details. This information is relayed to the juridical branch for verification. Once approved, human resources select an apt executive for the job. Post-mission, the secretariat and juridical branch confirm the mission’s success, then the accounting team, having already received client payment, disperses funds to the involved executives. The database logs everything, while tasks like the ranking system are autonomously managed by computers.

Yet, the agency shrouds many of its facets in mystery. Questions about its origins, its national influence, and certain information sources linger. For instance, during my inaugural mission, the aged individual code-named 'Prince' met an unexpected demise. Remarkably, the agency knew almost instantly, alerting me within an hour, despite Prince’s concealed location in our bunker during his final moments. I scoured every nook and cranny of the bunker for potential surveillance—cameras, microphones, anything—but came up empty. My lingering theory posits that Prince might’ve had an implanted chip, possibly monitoring his heartbeat or a device indicating life signs. I never got the chance to verify this notion as, in a cruel twist, his body was discarded by the Chinese associate before the idea even dawned on me.

Upon entering the place, a flurry of questions crowded my mind. However, they evaporated instantly upon laying eyes on the two of them.

SIRONA, the very girl who has tormented DIANA for years, stands before me, reigniting my smouldering anger.

But how should I react? They’ve yet to notice me, and this isn’t the place for a confrontation. Frozen, I fixate on DIANA, who is lost in thought, her expression vacant. There’s an unexpected charm to her, certain features I had never appreciated until now. She has always been a beauty in my eyes.

Suddenly, it all makes sense why I was captivated by such a seemingly naive girl. Rohini’s infectious smile flashes in my memory. There’s an uncanny similarity—both exuding an air of innocence but possessing a shrewd, melancholic side that never ceases to amaze.

In the early days with Rohini, not a moment was mundane. But time altered her. Though her influence changed me for the better, she transformed into someone unrecognizable. It was then I realized that people can only save themselves. If they aren’t receptive, efforts to help are futile. She seemed to find solace in her sorrow, wallowing in her own self-imposed martyrdom. Some souls are just beyond redemption.

Yet, with DIANA, hope persists.

Despite my limited insight into her life, I recall the genuine joy in her eyes when we were together. Contrarily, her present demeanour, drenched in sadness, screams of her desire to be elsewhere.

It’s evident she detests SIRONA. Perhaps my own disdain clouds my judgment. However, I can’t let anyone treat those I care for with such cruelty.

The realization is clear—I’ve grown fond of DIANA. Her quirky nature, sense of humour, and even her questionable fashion choices endear her to me.

Determined, I stride towards the two.

SIRONA’s conversation with a blue-haired girl is interrupted as the latter gestures towards me, uttering a cautionary, “SIRONA…”

SIRONA, with feigned surprise, exclaims, “Oh my, what a twist of fate!”

DIANA’s striking eyes widen in shock upon spotting me. In this tense moment, I still can’t overlook their beauty.

The blue-haired girl retreats, concern painting her features, but she fades from my focus.

Resolute, I declare, “I’m here to take her back.”

SIRONA’s laughter rings out, her tall frame bending in amusement. “Hahahahahaha! What nonsense! Are you referring to my sister?!”

I despise her mockery.

“No,” I retort sharply, “It’s DIANA I speak of.”

With those words, I reject her dominion over DIANA.

A myriad of emotions flicker across DIANA’s face, leaving me uncertain if my intent was rightly conveyed. Nevertheless, retreating isn’t an option.

SIRONA, in her typical fashion, finds humour in the situation, wiping a tear as she snickers. “DIANA is my sister, you fool. I’m the one responsible for her!”

“She’s a grown woman. Your obligation to her is nonexistent,” I assert, raising an eyebrow. “She has the autonomy to decide her path.”

With a sly grin, SIRONA challenges, turning to DIANA, “Fine, let’s put it to the test. My dear sister… Whom do you prefer—this scum or me?”

 

---

 

Why is she here? 

Why is she here? Why is she here? 

WHY IS SHE HERE, NOW? 

I was *this* close to finally accepting my fate, and forgetting my time with her. 

But now she’s back in my life! 

Is this some twisted game of fate? 

Even though gods don’t exist…! 

Or if one does, he must be a sadistic puppeteer…

“I’m going to take her back.” 

My chest feels like it’s constricting. 

Don’t say things like that…!! 

Don’t challenge my sister!! You can’t win against her!!! 

“Hahahahahaha, what the hell are you saying, you simpleton?! Is it my sister you’re talking about?!” 

“No. It’s DIANA, I’m talking about.” 

Confusion swirls in my head. 

What...? 

A dizzy sensation takes over me. 

What is happening?! 

It feels like the ground beneath me is giving way. 

‘Is it my sister you’re talking about?!’ 

‘No.’ 

‘No.’ 

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What did she mean by ‘no’??? 

Am I not her sister? 

Is it possible for me not to be her sister? 

The disintegration continues. 

The sound reminds me of boulders crashing down a cliff. 

Like the suffocating walls around me are collapsing. 

As if a radiant beam is breaking through the darkness. 

“My sweet sister… Who do you want to stay with, this scum, or me?” 

My sister’s voice yanks me back to the present. 

I bow my head, overwhelmed. 

“I … I…” Words fail me. 

What should I say?! 

I yearn to go with Boobies, of course, I do!! 

But if I declare that, my sister would unleash her wrath on both of us!! 

“I … with S-” 

Suddenly, a sharp pain in my scalp. 

Forced to look up, I see my sister’s face contorted in fury, holding my hair tightly. 

But in this place, she’s powerless. She can’t harm her—my si—Violently, I’m thrown onto the ground before her, wincing in agony. 

“Since you’re too dim-witted to answer, let’s make it easy,” she cackles, tossing my knife in front of me. “Kill the one you don’t wish to be with.” 

My heart pounds relentlessly, thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. 

Resigned, I pick up the knife and rise. 

Only one person in this room can be my target… 

Swiftly, I launch at her, embedding the knife into her skin. 

A gut-wrenching scream ensues. Her warm blood sprays onto my face and hands. 

Yet, I feel serenity. 

With every ounce of energy, I pull the knife out, then strike again, repeatedly, until a force yanks me back. 

The blue-haired girl lays motionless on the cold floor. 

Then a slap snaps me back to the looming threat behind. 

With undisguised loathing, she pushes me towards the one person I never wanted to hurt. 

Emotions in her eyes are indecipherable. 

Panicking, the demon’s voice echoes behind me, “End it. Now, or it’s your turn.” 

Death terrifies me. 

I never envisioned myself as a martyr. 

With faltering steps, knife clenched in my blood-stained hand, I approach her. 

Yet a voice deep within me screams in protest. 

I topple over her. She doesn’t resist. 

A clear shot. One strike is all it takes. 

So, why can’t I move? 

Her lack of reaction is equally puzzling. 

Suddenly, a gentle warmth brushes my cheek. It’s her hand. 

A feeble smile graces her lips, “You’re beautiful.” 

The words resonate within me, and the knife drops with a clang. 

“You deserve life.” 

The walls of my confinement shatter spectacularly. 

“Upon my Divine Rights, as a deity of this realm, I bestow it upon you…” 

Blinding light envelops me, the cage of my past existence disintegrating. 

“From now on, you’re a goddess too, my Boginya. Together, we’ll reign supreme.” 

Emotions surge, tears streaming. 

“We are the only two that matter in the universe.” 

Freed from my shackles, I hold onto my saviour. 

“You are free.”

Pandora opened her box and two goddesses sprouted from it.

However, no curses or blessings were sowed into the world, simply two souls that found their own way to happiness.

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