What Next?

Jack stared at the white ceiling, his mind processing the information and the implications that came with it.

Three years. The card had been untouched for three years.

Someone had set this up long before he'd ever suspected anything was wrong. Before he began noticing the blackouts. Or the voices.

And whoever it was, planned for him to need it.

A knock at the door broke through his thoughts.

"Breakfast, Mr. Vales."

Jack sat up slowly, pushing himself to his feet. He crossed the room, hesitating for a second before unlocking the door.

The same hotel attendant from yesterday stood there, a polite, practiced smile on her face. A silver cart was positioned beside her, the aroma of fresh eggs, toast, and tea wafting through the open doorway.

Jack studied her for a moment. "Thank you," he muttered, stepping aside to let her push the cart in.

She nodded and wheeled it to the small dining table before straightening. "Would you like anything else, sir?"

Jack shook his head. "No, this is fine."

She gave a polite nod before stepping back toward the door. "Enjoy your meal."

Jack watched as she left, closing the door softly behind her. He stood there for a moment, listening to the silence, the ticking of the wall clock filling the void.

Something about the normalcy of it all felt unnatural.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking to the table and sitting down. He wasn't particularly hungry, but the tea at least was necessary.

As he lifted the cup, his eyes drifted back to the card.

Three years.

He exhaled sharply, tapping his watch and navigating to his banking app. He hesitated for a split second before entering the card details and the PIN.

Access granted.

Jack blinked.

The account balance loaded in an instant. His fingers clenched around the cup as he stared at the number.

1,317,550 ERC.

Jack abruptly spat out the tea.

This wasn't just some money. This was enough to disappear. Enough to start a new life.

He swallowed, his pulse quickening as a dozen possibilities ran through his mind.

Who the hell had given him this?

Why now?

Jack placed the cup down carefully, rubbing his temples. Too many questions. Not enough answers.

But one thing was clear—this wasn't random.

Shaking off the lingering thought Jack focused on his meal after, a few minutes he thought back to everything that had happened.

He had survived the Vixa corporation heist.

Keno's second murder attempt.

The assassination attempt yesterday.

Maybe—just maybe—he could trust the voices in his mind. Or maybe he was just getting used to losing control.

"Well here goes nothing."

Jack walked to the desk, booted up the laptop, and began searching real estate listings in Gerage District.

The message from the note still lingering in his mind. Take the card, rent a house, and stay out of this.

He scrolled through listings, filtering for locations with high-security access and anonymity. After a few minutes, he found it:

A discreet penthouse loft in the upscale part of Gerage District.

Private elevator access.

Reinforced security systems.

And most importantly, no questions asked.

It was expensive, but with over a million ERC in his account, he could afford it.

Jack tapped the screen, confirming the lease.

Transaction approved.

Jack ate slowly, letting the weight of the morning's revelations sink in. The scent of tea lingered as he set the cup aside and leaned back, exhaling.

The numbers on the screen still stared back at him.

He exhaled sharply and stood up, stretching out his stiff muscles. One thing at a time.

Jack walked to the bathroom, turning on the faucet as steam slowly filled the air. He had been so caught up in searching for answers that he had forgotten to take a damn shower.

As the hot water poured against his skin, he exhaled, closing his eyes. The exhaustion, the paranoia, the weight of unanswered questions—it all melted away, if only for a moment.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, letting the heat loosen his tense muscles. Yesterday had been a lot. Surviving another assassination attempt. Finding the card. Waking up in a hotel.Realizing his mind wasn't entirely his own.

He shut off the water and grabbed a towel, drying off quickly before stepping out.

His eyes drifted to the neatly folded clothe on the chair—the same ones he had worn before everything went to shit.

Letting out a restrained smile tugged he put on the clothe.

___________________________

Jack zipped up his bag, making sure the laptop was securely tucked inside. As he reached for the door, he hesitated.

Something nagged at him.

His gaze turned back to the desk. The card and note still sat there, untouched.

He walked back, picking them up, running his fingers over the familiar yet unfamiliar handwriting.

Jack sighed, tucking both into his pocket.

There were too many unanswered questions, and standing here wouldn't solve them.

He stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him before making his way to the elevator.

The ride down was eerily quiet.

As he stepped into the hotel lobby, his pace slowed. The receptionist glanced up, offering the same.

"Checking out, Mr. Vales?"

Jack hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "Yeah."

"Understood." Tapping on her computer. Then looking up slightly "Your checkout is complete. We hope you enjoyed your stay."

Jack gave a small, forced nod before walking toward the exit.

As he stepped into the cool morning air, his mind was already working through his next move.

He had money. He had a place to go.

Standing outside the Hotel, his mind drifted to his old apartment—the few belongings he'd left behind, the familiar space that was no longer safe.

He shook his head. No. They already knew where I lived. They sent people there. Going back would be suicide. A risk he couldn't afford.

A taxi pulled up at the curb. Jack exhaled, stepping forward. He opened the door and slipped inside without looking back.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

Jack replied. "Vanguard Heights."

As the car pulled away, as he forced himself to focus on what's to come next.