He flips another page of the newspaper. Just the usual sensational stories about people whose lives have little effect on his own. Waste of time. He shuts it, returning to the front page once again. It’s plastered with pictures of what they are now calling the Outage, one of the largest acts of terrorism to befall Ferros in recent years. Hundreds dead, thousands hospitalised. The impact it had is horrendous. The seeds had been sown, and many were banding together, beginning to voice their support for equal treatment of all twins; demonstrations, strikes, sometimes even riots. History merely repeating itself. On the second page, another major blow to Ferros is reported; the obituary of the captain of the force.

Captain Argon Lycruz. Revered by some, loved by many, but respected by all. A few days prior, the captain’s amp loss was first revealed. In the article, it reported that the detective in charge of the Mafia’s leader failed to stop him from committing suicide. It was discovered that the convict had had a hidden capsule of poison. Given the captain’s standing and prestige, coupled with the seasoned detective’s track record, it was unacceptable that such a blunder could be allowed to occur, leading to uproars from the masses. With the Mafia having fanned the embers of revolution, those in power would choose any option to appease the masses, no matter how small. Removing the detective responsible from the force entirely was a simple task.

The man returns his attention to the obituary, having recalled the report he’d read a while back. The column contains words of praise and admiration for a man who had once led Ferros into stability from the very same uprising clutching the city now. A man hailed by many as a hero. The man sighs to himself and shuts the newspaper. 

“So sorry to hear about it.” The blonde vendor had come around to greet him. “Thanks, Chloe.” She looks him up and down. “You look worse for wear. Gonna be alright?” He gives her a smile and nods, “I’ll be fine.” He rolls up the newspaper. “Can’t pass any messages or ‘secret’ presents to Cantis for you anymore, though.” The elderly lady blushes lightly. She shakes her head, faint hints of grey strands peaking about, “Nah, you don’t have to worry about that. I feel like he’ll come around soon enough. Besides…,” she sighs, and her expression saddens. “Need to give him some space for the time being anyway. He’s lost a lot.” The man agrees.

“What are you going to do now then?” she asks after some time. He shrugs. “Simple. Just look for another job.” He turns to leave, “Be seeing you, Chloe.” She calls to him as he waves goodbye, “Don’t be a stranger now, Morgan.”