Strings.

Prologue

ECHO, SIGNAL.

“Want to go for a music night?” the Plus Man asked, leaning against the balcony railing. A black Plus mask concealed most of his face.

“Sure, Boss,” the Plus Guard replied without hesitation.

The Plus Man chuckled. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

“I am not worthy of questioning you, Boss.”

“Why? Because I’m your boss?”

“Never, Boss. Our lives belong to the Plus Authority. We are bound by unity—with them and with you. We believe in unity.”

“But you answer to me.”

“Certainly.”

Satisfied, the Plus Man smiled.

“What do you think about pulling some strings and putting words together through loud microphones?”

“It lures prey and brings profit, hand in hand, Boss.”

“Good answer.”

“What’s your branding?”

The guard rolled back his sleeve, revealing the number branded into his forearm.

11020.

The Plus Man studied it for a moment before nodding.

“Let’s target the industry that’s been ignored for far too long.”

The guard handed him a ringing phone.

“Echo.”

“Signal.”

“You have two weeks.”

“It’ll be done in one.”

The line went dead.

It had never been a conversation.

Only an order.

A slow smile spread beneath the Plus Man’s mask.

“Let the game begin.”

??? 🖤

You won’t find me in this story.

At least…

not the way you expect.

I’m always there, watching.

Whether I’m the villain, the savior, or something in between…

that’s for you to decide.

One more thing.

People say every story has heroes.

This one doesn’t.