the end of world (2)

Luck, they said. The kind that gives you a mentor, a guide through the dark labyrinth of the world. Victor was mine. A man capable of uncovering the most trivial gossip as well as the best-kept secrets—like what the mayor had whispered to his wife the night before. Money opened all doors, even those leading to murder. The only limit was the depth of your purse. If the sky were to collapse, Victor would know before the first stone hit the ground.

I settled comfortably into the armchair across from him, scanning the room for my favorite drink. One had to be mentally prepared for the conversation that was about to unfold.

— I thought if the sky fell, you wouldn't even break a sweat, I quipped, a hint of irony in my voice.

He turned toward the shelf where his prized collection of spirits rested. His nimble fingers seized an aged bottle before he sank into his leather armchair. How many heads had rolled for him to afford such luxury?

— I'm only human, after all, he replied once he was settled.

— You drinking? he asked, offering me a glass filled with amber liquid. Whiskey, judging by its color.

— You know me well enough, Victor. Why even ask? I retorted, impatience creeping in.

— Don't say I didn't warn you.

He had a knack for dragging things out.

— Enough with the small talk. I have a train to catch, I insisted.

— You mean those passes?

— You knew? Would I have been surprised otherwise? Probably not.

— They're worthless now, kid.

— Explain, I demanded, striving to maintain my usual poker face.

— It's simple. The city is under lockdown.

I locked eyes with him.

— There's always a way. With money, anything's possible. Isn't that your motto?

— True. But those who have the power to lock down Astoria and impose an embargo on the serum aren't swayed by mere bribes.

He downed his drink in one gulp before setting the glass back on the table.

— We're not even playing in the same league, kid. To them, we're just insects.

— The ones who can shut down a city can be counted on one hand. But only one organization has the power to enforce an embargo on the serum.

— The ones who manufacture it and rule the world with an iron grip.

— What does the Order stand to gain from this?

He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, then exhaled slowly through his nose. This man had a way of making me want to kill someone.

Sensing my growing hostility, he took a moment before dropping the bomb I had been expecting.

— What else, if not what happened a thousand years ago—the event that changed our world forever?

My head felt like it was about to explode. If I ever found the bastard who said life hangs by a thread, I'd shove those words down his throat before he could open his mouth again.

— Sigh. That drink… Is the offer still on the table?

He nodded and handed me a glass without hesitation. One sip of the burning nectar sent me into a coughing fit.

— Strong, huh? Got it from an Enforcer back when I started this job. I save it for special occasions.

— Must date back to the dinosaur era, I remarked, my throat still on fire.

He wasn't wrong—this whiskey packed a rare punch, though I had little to compare it to.

— Even if they achieve their goals, if word gets out that more than half the population of a city—no matter how small—dies overnight, public opinion will turn against them.

Unless…

— Desperate times call for desperate measures, Victor finished, then added:

— I pray I never have to explain what would drive the Order to such extremes—to betray international conventions.

A bitter smile crossed his face.

— Only one thing could push them to act like this: the monsters who changed our world and now rule this era.

— The Calamities.

No sooner had I spoken the words than the city's emergency sirens began to wail.

It seemed chaos was about to reclaim its throne.