Clone thief
In the mayor's grand estate, the celebration was in full swing. The grand ballroom was packed with the city's elite—politicians, businessmen, and influential figures from every corner of the newly revived city. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a warm glow, and the sound of glasses clinking and polite laughter filled the air. Waiters weaved through the crowd with trays of hors d'oeuvres, while a live orchestra played soft, uplifting music.
The mayor stood at the front of the room, raising a glass as he addressed the crowd. "To the rebirth of our city," he declared, his voice carrying above the murmur of conversations. "We have faced challenges that seemed insurmountable, but tonight, we stand taller, stronger, and more united than ever before. This is not just a celebration of the city we rebuilt—but a celebration of our spirit."
The room erupted in applause, but there was an undeniable sense of tension lingering beneath the surface. Many of the businessmen exchanged knowing glances, their discussions hushed. The politicians, meanwhile, smiled at one another with tight-lipped precision, their eyes darting across the room, measuring every reaction.
In a corner of the ballroom, a group of business executives stood together, sipping champagne. One of them, an older man with graying hair and a sharp suit, spoke quietly. "This city may be standing, but it's hanging by a thread. We all know that, right?"
Another businessman, younger but no less shrewd, nodded. "True. This revival may be good for morale, but underneath it all... the cracks are still there. It'll take more than just a few repairs to fix what's really broken."
A politician, overhearing the conversation, joined in. "It's not just about infrastructure. The public is relying too much on these so-called heroes. They think the capes will solve all their problems."
A woman in a sleek black dress, a prominent figure in local business, raised an eyebrow. "And you think they won't? After all, they're the reason we're even having this party tonight. Without them, this city would still be in ruins."
The older businessman chuckled dryly. "True, but people have short memories. It won't be long before they start looking to us again—the ones who make the deals, keep the economy running. The heroes might have saved the city, but they don't run it."
The politician leaned in, lowering his voice. "Don't underestimate the influence they have. The mayor is already considering appointing a 'special liaison' to work with them. The public loves them. The council's practically tripping over itself to give them more control."
There was a brief silence as the weight of the words settled in. The idea of heroes wielding political power made some in the room uneasy.
The younger businessman took a sip of his drink and shook his head. "If we let them have too much say, this whole city could become... unpredictable. It's bad for business. We need stability, predictability. Not a bunch of super-powered wildcards."
The woman in black sighed, clearly not thrilled with the direction of the conversation. "You're all so cynical. Maybe, for once, we could just accept that something good came out of all this. The heroes don't care about politics—they're just doing what they can to help."
The older businessman shrugged. "We'll see. But I wouldn't be surprised if the day comes when they start looking down from those skyscrapers and think they know better than the rest of us."
Before anyone could respond, the mayor's voice rang out again, drawing their attention. "And finally," he said, his eyes scanning the crowd, "a toast to our heroes—the ones who made all of this possible."
Another round of applause followed, though the clapping was more subdued in the corner where the group stood. The younger businessman raised his glass halfheartedly. "To the heroes," he muttered, though his tone was far from enthusiastic.
The woman in black shot him a look. "Maybe instead of worrying so much about control, you should think about what we can learn from them. They've shown us that sometimes, you need to step up when no one else can."
The older businessman smirked. "Or maybe they've just shown us what happens when people start thinking they're invincible."
There was a pause, and the group looked out over the party as the orchestra struck up a lively tune. The mood was celebratory, but beneath the surface, uncertainty still lingered, like a storm cloud hovering just out of sight.
As the guests continued to drink and laugh, there was an unspoken understanding among the city's elite: the future was far from secure, and while the heroes had helped rebuild the city, it was the people in this room who would determine where it went from here.
As the party at the mayor's estate reached its peak, no one noticed the man dressed as a waiter slipping quietly through the busy ballroom, making his way toward a restricted hallway. He moved with precision and a purpose that would go unnoticed by the party guests—people too wrapped up in their conversations, drinks, and the music to notice anything unusual.
But the man wasn't just any thief. He was a professional, an assassin known for being as lethal as he was invisible. And his first target of the night was the CCTV room.
He reached the security office, tucked away in the back of the building. A single guard sat in front of a bank of monitors, watching various feeds from cameras placed throughout the mansion. His back was to the door, unaware of the danger lurking just behind him.
The assassin pushed open the door softly, his footsteps silent. The guard sensed nothing until it was too late. Before he could turn around, a hand wrapped tightly around his mouth, and a sharp blade pressed against his throat. The guard struggled for a moment, his eyes wide with fear, but the assassin's grip was unrelenting.
"Shh… It's nothing personal," the assassin whispered in the guard's ear, his voice cold, devoid of emotion. "Just business."
With one swift motion, the blade sliced across the guard's throat, and the man slumped forward, blood pooling on the floor beneath him. The assassin calmly wiped his knife clean and began working on the CCTV system. Within seconds, the entire security feed was looped—showing nothing but an empty hallway. No one would suspect anything.
His task complete, he moved toward the mayor's office.
---
Inside the grand ballroom, the guests were blissfully unaware of the growing danger just outside the room. Laughter echoed off the walls, the clinking of glasses punctuating the air as the mayor himself mingled with politicians and businessmen. The celebration was in full swing.
---
The assassin reached the mayor's office and swiftly bypassed the door's security system. He made his way to the vault, hidden behind a painting, and began entering the access codes he had acquired earlier. The vault door clicked open with a satisfying hiss. Inside were stacks of cash, confidential documents, and priceless artifacts—everything he had been sent to steal.
As he began filling his duffle bag, his cold eyes scanned the room, calculating his next move. Everything had gone according to plan so far, and now it was just a matter of walking out as if nothing had happened.
But fate had other plans.
As the assassin slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and made his way toward the exit, he heard footsteps approaching. A security guard, doing his rounds, appeared at the far end of the hallway.
The assassin cursed under his breath. He couldn't afford to be seen.
"Hey!" the guard called out, suspicion flaring in his voice as he started to approach.
The assassin smiled beneath his mask, the glint of his knife catching the light. Without hesitation, he stepped into the shadows, allowing his body to split, forming a perfect clone of himself. The clone stepped forward confidently, a diversion while the real assassin moved around the corner, out of sight.
As the guard approached the clone, his hand moving toward his radio, the clone acted quickly. In a flash, the clone disarmed him, and before the guard could shout, the real assassin emerged from behind and drove his knife deep into the man's chest.
The guard gasped, his eyes wide with shock. The assassin's face was expressionless, devoid of any remorse. "Nothing personal," he whispered again, as the guard collapsed to the floor, his body twitching for a moment before going still.
The assassin wiped his blade once more, calm and collected. He had done this too many times to count, and killing was as routine to him as breathing. He continued down the hallway, avoiding any further security patrols, his cloning ability ensuring that any interference was swiftly handled.
---
The next morning, the city was buzzing with shocking news. The headlines read:
**"Mysterious Thief Strikes at Mayor's Mansion: Millions Stolen, Guards Murdered."**
No one knew who the thief was. The CCTV footage had been wiped clean, and the only clues left behind were the bodies of two guards who had been killed with brutal precision. The thief had come and gone like a ghost.
Inside the mayor's office, the mayor sat at his desk, pale and shaken. Across from him sat a reporter, ready to conduct an interview for the morning news.
"Mayor," the reporter began, her voice serious, "last night's incident has left the entire city in shock. Can you tell us what happened?"
The mayor took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he rubbed his temples. "It was supposed to be a night of celebration. But while we were busy with the festivities, someone managed to slip past security and break into my vault. They took a significant amount of money and important documents… and worse, two of my guards were murdered in cold blood."
The reporter nodded solemnly. "Do you have any idea who could be responsible?"
The mayor shook his head. "We don't know. There was no trace left behind, no evidence. Whoever did this… they were highly skilled. This was no ordinary thief."
The reporter leaned in, her voice lowering slightly. "We've heard rumors that the thief may have had superhuman abilities. Can you confirm this?"
The mayor hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "There are reports that the thief could clone himself. Some of my security saw… multiple figures, identical to each other. It's possible this person has powers. It's terrifying to think about."
The reporter's eyes widened. "With abilities like that, do you believe this could be the work of a professional? Perhaps an assassin?"
The mayor's face darkened. "It's very likely. Whoever this person is, they knew exactly what they were doing. They were efficient, deadly. And they killed without hesitation. We need to find this person before they strike again."
The reporter nodded, her expression grim. "Mayor, how do you plan to address the security concerns going forward? The people are frightened, and they're looking to you for answers."
The mayor straightened up, trying to project confidence. "We're already increasing security throughout the city. I've spoken with law enforcement, and we're also considering bringing in heroes to assist us. This thief may have gotten away last night, but they won't be free for long. We will find them."
The interview concluded, but the city was left with more questions than answers. The assassin, meanwhile, was already long gone, disappearing into the shadows like he always did, leaving chaos and fear in his wake. No one knew his name, no one knew his face, and no one would ever see him coming—not until it was too late.