The first thing they gave Jessy after Mercer wasn't a medal.
It was a chair.
Bolted to the floor. Metal. Uncomfortable.
He sat anyway.
The room was cold enough to sting his teeth.
The lights flickered once.
Then Reef walked in.
He closed the door behind him like he meant it to stay closed. No file in his hand this time. No clipboard. Just him.
He stood across from Jessy and said nothing.
Jessy broke the silence first.
"You here to kill me or promote me?"
Reef blinked. "Neither. You're here to learn."
"Learn what?"
The door opened again.
Goro strolled in with two coffee cups and something that looked like a half-eaten energy bar in his mouth.
He handed one cup to Jessy.
"Congratulations," he said, half-smirking. "You're now officially too weird to ignore."
They didn't sit right away.
Goro leaned against the wall. Reef stayed near the door.
Jessy stayed in the chair like it was a trap rigged to go off if he moved wrong.
"You understand what you are now?" Reef asked.
Jessy shrugged. "Ghost with a nickname?"
"Close."
Goro chimed in. "You're a whisper. But now you're one people remember. That makes you dangerous. Not powerful. Not impressive."
"Just… noticed."
Jessy took a sip of the coffee. Burned his tongue.
Didn't flinch.
Reef finally stepped forward.Dropped a black folder on the floor.
Dust puffed off it like it hadn't been opened in months.
"Everything in here is what you need to know."
"Not what you want to know. Got it?"
Jessy nodded once.
"Good."
Reef opened the folder with careful fingers. The first page was a grid.
Simple.
Bleak.
At the bottom: "Nobody." No codename. No number. Just eyes watching. Waiting to see if you die fast or slow.
Then came the next tier: Codenames.
"You got yours early," Reef said. "Julian. That alone pissed off a lot of people."
Jessy frowned. "Why?"
"Most people earn it after fifty missions. You got it after one."
"People don't like skips. They don't like questions."
Next up: The Numbers.
"512 to 100: Entry agents. Disposables. You move bodies, take orders, die clean."
"99 to 10: Full-field operatives. Names. Killers. Trusted with operations. Mercer was one of them."
"9 to 2: Ghost tier. You don't meet them. You hear about what they did three cities later."
"1…"
Reef paused.
Didn't finish.
Jessy tilted his head. "And above them?"
Goro chuckled. "You mean the stars?"
Reef shot him a look.
"That's not your concern right now."
Jessy narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"
Reef stared at him. Flat. Unmoving.
"Because you haven't survived long enough to ask those kinds of questions."
"The system doesn't teach everything at once. It teaches when it wants you to fear something."
Jessy leaned back.
Let that settle.
"Fair."
But still…
His eyes drifted to the last few pages in the folder. Most were redacted. Entire names blacked out. Images blurred.
But one file caught his eye.
No picture.
Just a designation at the top.
[Codename: MIRAGE]
Rank: 02
Status: Classified / Presumed Inactive
Jessy squinted.
Something about that name
Like a whisper behind glass. Like a sound he'd heard once, when he was younger, but only when the house was too quiet.
Mirage…Why does that sound like it matters?
He flipped the page, hoping for more.
It was blank.
Just one hand-written note at the bottom in tiny, faded pencil:
"Ask Valera. She saw it happen."
Jessy blinked.
"Who's Valera?"
Reef took the folder away.
"That's not your business yet."
***
He sat still after they left.
Alone in the metal chair.
Coffee still warm in his hands. The tag around his neck cold against his collarbone.
Somewhere inside that file was a name that tugged at something buried in his gut.
And somewhere out there was someone named Valera who apparently saw "it" happen.
Whatever it was.
He had more questions now than answers.
But maybe that was the point.
Later that night, Jessy stood in front of the cracked mirror in his room, dog tag between his fingers.
He stared at his reflection.
The bruises had faded a little. Not gone. Just resting.
"Mirage…"
He said the word out loud.Soft. Testing the weight of it.
Something about it made the air feel colder.
He looked down at the tag again.
Julian.
They gave him a name to define him.
But what if he chose one to bury them?
On the underside of his bedframe, something caught his eye.
Carved into the metal.
A symbol.Old.Crooked.
He stared at it.
Then remembered something from years ago.
A bedtime story.
A promise.
A lie.
"You didn't die, did you?"
"You left."
"And you didn't come back."
He didn't cry.
Not because it didn't hurt.
But because hurt was the only thing keeping him sharp.