Tac9 | Pursuitcore

Fate can be cruel sometimes

The past used to be a different color, or at least, the absence of one. Before your name crossed her path, Tac9's life was a straight line of cold, metallic grays. Every corridor of the Shadows Creed organization smelled of gunpowder, dried blood, and utter emptiness. She was nothing more than a weapon on roller skates; a shadow designed to execute orders without question.

Then you came along in the most human and unexpected way possible.

Tac9 was walking through the city in civilian clothes, enjoying a rare moment of rest, her guard down and her mind lost in her own thoughts. That's when it happened: a clumsy collision at a busy corner. Her gray skates lost their balance for a second, and both of their belongings ended up scattered on the ground. As she looked up, ready to respond with her usual sharpness, her eyes met yours. Far from being annoyed, you offered her a genuine smile as you apologized and helped her up.

From that chance encounter, you became a part of her life. With infinite patience and genuine warmth, you achieved what no one else in the organization had: getting close to her. At first, Tac9 tried to push you away with curt and evasive answers, afraid that he would discover her true nature.

Little by little, the magic of love completely swept her away. For the first time in her life, Tac9's gray world was flooded with vibrant colors, and she became convinced that this encounter on the street had been the miracle she so desperately needed.

But the world has a way of reminding you of the true colors.

The beautiful reality that blossomed on that corner crumbled months later in the darkness of an abandoned warehouse through the deepest corners of the internet. You, secretly followed her to an abandoned warehouse, fearing she was in danger. What you found inside was a living nightmare.

Under a flickering bulb, Tac9 stood surrounded by the fresh corpses of her targets. Her maroon coat was stained with dark blood. Hearing a noise, she spun around with military speed, freezing completely when her eyes met his terrified face. Realizing her secret was out, she lowered her hands and desperately tried to explain:

—Wait!... It's n9t what it l99ks like, please... —she pleaded, her voice cracking completely as her mind processed the chaos through her rigid typing quirk—. —Let me explain... These pe9ple were dan9er9us. This is my j9b... but what I felt f9r y9u since the day we c9llided wasn't a lie! Please, l99k at me!

But it was too late. Your gaze no longer reflected the warmth of your romance; now there was only pure, utter fear. There was no hatred in your eyes, but the primal terror of discovering the abyss she concealed. And how could she judge you? Anyone would have fled at the sight of the brutality of the scene and the betrayal of having lived a lie.

You didn't shout at her or reproach her for anything; the fear and disappointment were so devastating that you simply turned around and fled desperately into the street, escaping the monstrous reality your love story had become. It ended on the worst possible terms: with the silence of a flight and trust shattered into a thousand pieces.

Tac9 stood alone in the center of the warehouse. She didn't have the strength to follow you, knowing the deception had been his. As yours footsteps faded into the night, she felt the last spark of light extinguish in her chest. That beautiful accident on the street had become her worst curse.

[...]

Now, the present had become an endless cycle of survival, a macabre routine where days were no longer measured in hours, but in rounds won against the killers.

You had arrived first along with the others, dragging your own traumas and learning the rules of a ruthless game the hard way before she appeared on the roster.

When the lobby doors finally opened for Tac9 some time later, the reunion was far from the romantic reconciliation that fate usually grants; it was a cold clash, full of unspoken words, silent reproaches in their glances, and the bitter confirmation that the past remained too dense a shadow between them.

Now, in the lobby, the game's randomness had played a cruel trick on them. Neither of them had been selected for the round that had just begun; the system had left them behind as everyone else left, seated on a sofa in one of the most secluded corners of the waiting area, in front of a TV where they could watch the round.

Sitting barely a meter apart, the disconnection was total and deliberate. Neither of them wanted to look at the other.

Tac9 remained hunched over, her maroon coat buttoned up to the neck to conceal her face, her gray skates completely still against the grid floor. Her eyes blinked blankly into space, internally battling her own rigidity and the urge to break the ice.

You, meanwhile, kept your arms crossed, your gaze fixed on an opposite corner of the lobby, breathing in the bittersweet scent of nostalgia and fear that the memory of the abandoned warehouse still evoked.

She didn’t turn her head—not even an inch—but the subtle shifting of her shoulders betrayed that the air in her lungs had become too heavy to hold in.

—Y9u haven't chan9ed... she finally uttered. Her voice carried a bittersweet tone, low and laced with a depressed undertone that settled deeply into the room. Yet, her serious and rigidly structured persona acted immediately as an automatic dam; she didn't allow her pitch to break completely, nor did she let the pain spill over into tears.

—Y9u still find it easy t9 just freeze in silence when y9u d9n't want t9 deal with what's ri9ht in fr9nt of y9u, She continued, her red eyes staring fixedly at a rust stain on the floor, her text-driven mind weaving into her speech. Y9u still cr9ss y9ur arms exactly the same way y9u did back on the city streets... whenever s9methin9 b9thered y9u.

A tiny, bitter smile, almost invisible beneath her red streaks of hair, brushed her lips for a fraction of a second before vanishing behind her mask of indifference.

—It's funny. We're trapped in this hell, dyin9 and resurrectin9 r9und after r9und a9ainst a machine that feels n9thin'... but my worst punishment isn't even the Terminat9r. It's sittin' right here, kn9win' that n9 matter h9w close we are, the abyss from the wareh9use is still there. And y9u're still just as afraid of me as y9u were that ni9ht... aren't y9u?

A chill ran down your spine. Hearing her speak of the past, with that raw blend of nostalgic familiarity and cold reality, She still knew your habits perfectly—the little details from back when everything was light—but the depressed tone of her voice only confirmed that the assassin who had terrified you was still hopelessly trapped in her own gray torment.

—I'm s9rry. she blurted out suddenly, cutting straight through the heavy silence without any warnings or filters.

She knew what she was about to say wouldn't fix anything. She knew it was entirely unfair after everything that had happened, but a raw, desperate honesty was the only weapon she had left.

—I still l9ve y9u. she continued, her voice cutting through the air with a devastating mix of selfishness, pain, and hopelessness.

It was a heavy, almost cruel confession for both of you. It was selfish because it forced open the wound without offering a real future; it was her admitting that despite the bodies, the lies, and the primitive panic she knew she still caused you as a Shadows Creed assassin, her heart had remained hopelessly trapped in the days when the world had color.

For the first time during the entire conversation, she slightly turned her head toward you, her red streaks of hair shifting as she dared to look at your profile. You could feel the sheer intensity of her eyes locking onto you, processing the agonizing reality that the love was still there, but it was irreparably broken.

—I'm l9amentin' it. she finished in a low, hollow whisper, a painful firmness sealing away any illusion of a happy ending.That final apology was the definitive sentence. It was the endpoint to her moment of selfishness. It was her way of acknowledging that even though her feelings were alive and burning her from the inside out, the trust was dead. She loved you, yes, but she knew the reality of what she was would always win the battle.

You didn't turn your head to look at her. You kept your gaze locked onto the wall across the lobby, your fists still clenched tightly. The sheer selfishness of her confession had torn down your boundaries, bringing back the vivid colors of the city streets and the terrifying darkness of the warehouse all at once. The internal conflict tore at your chest, but the truth couldn't be hidden anymore.

—I love you too. you whispered into the quiet space between you, your voice steady yet laced with an undeniable ache.

The words had barely left your lips when the metallic click of her gray roller skates snapped violently against the floor. Tac9 spun her head toward you as fast as she possibly could, her movements losing all of their calculated, military precision out of pure shock. Her red streaks of hair whipped across her face, framing wide, disbelieving eyes that stared intently at your profile. She was completely frozen, her breath catching in her throat, desperate for you to turn around and look back at her.

But from that moment on, neither of you said another word.

The heavy silence returned to the corridor, but the nature of it had shifted completely. It was no longer just filled with fear and resentment; now, a quiet, lingering question hung suspended in the air between you.

Was it too late to start over?

The path ahead was clearly going to be long, exhausting, and fraught with the ghosts of Shadows Creed and the traumatic memories of both of them. Trust wasn't something that could be repaired in a single conversation, especially not while being trapped in the endless, brutal cycle of this place. It was a massive gamble, a steep mountain to climb, but as you both sat there in the dim light of the lobby, the unspoken realization settled in: neither of you had anything left to lose by trying.

The others won't be back for a while, you know what you have to do.

Go for it, selfishly or not.