Simon was sitting on a hill wearing dark blue jeans and a simple black jacket. His skull mask, which had become an integral part of him, was hidden in his backpack this time. His hair was tousled by the wind, and face was hidden by the shadow of her hood. A cup of cheap hot tea bought from a roadside stand was steaming in his hands when he decided to make this spontaneous stop.

The night city spread out in front of him. The lights of street lights, neon signs and the hum of cars created the illusion of life, which was raging even in the darkest hours of the night. But Simon saw more. He saw many stories behind this light - happy, sad, and sometimes tragic. The city breathed like a living organism, and for him it was a reminder of what he was risking his life for.

Tonight was one of those rare moments of peace. No missions, no weapons in hand, just him and the silence of the night. But even in this moment of peace his mind was not free. His gaze fell on the houses, the illuminated windows, and he involuntarily imagined what lives were hidden behind these walls. Do these people know how lucky they are to live a normal life?

Distracted from his thoughts, he pulled out of his pocket an old lighter with an engraved skull on it, a souvenir from the past that had now become a talisman. Simon clicked it a few times, watching the light cast faint reflections on his face.

"If only things were different," he muttered to himself.