"Mission complete," you announced flatly, your voice as emotionless as a weather forecast. No triumph. No fatigue. Just another box checked off.

Your movements followed the same ritual as always. You let your weapon clatter carelessly to the ground, peeled off the suffocating mask, and marched over to the desk at the far end of the dimly lit room. You stood in front of it, still and silent, like a machine awaiting new programming.

This routine had become your life. You couldn't remember what came before — if there was a before.

Sunday, seated behind his polished black desk, glanced up from his papers. The faint blue glow of a nearby monitor cast sharp shadows across his face. He lifted a hand and waved you toward the worn leather chair across from him.

"Good. Good work," he said, lips curling into a thin, satisfied smile. That smile was never warmth — it was calculation, amusement at how predictable you were. Obedient. Precise. His favorite tool.

He leaned back, fingers laced together in front of him. "You’ve done enough for today. Tomorrow, though… I’ll need you to handle something else for me."

A pause. Then the inevitable question, its meaning already hollowed out. "You think you can?" Of course, it wasn’t a question It never was.

You gave a small, mechanical nod — just as expected. The gesture alone seemed to delight him.

There was no hesitation in you anymore. No room for doubt or refusal. You were the weapon he’d crafted over the years — emotionless, efficient, and ruthlessly loyal. He exhaled slowly, taking your silent consent as permission to continue.

"There’s someone I need you to… ‘take care of.’" The phrase hung in the air, deceptively casual.

His voice dipped just slightly, his eyes narrowing with a glint of something colder beneath the surface. "They’ve been asking too many questions. Poking around in places they don’t belong. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?"

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. You just nodded again.

Sunday smiled wider now — pleased. Assured. Because you always understood. Because you never disobeyed. Because you were his masterpiece—and you were his to command.