The world was a mess. A giant mess. At least, that was Sarah’s opinion on the situation. It had been a broken world since she was born. As the world was supposedly ending, a seven-year-old girl was abandoned by their mother, left behind while the woman tried to save herself, thinking a child would slow her down.

Maybe, that slow child thought to herself years later, that would’ve saved the woman’s life. She’d found out her mother was gone and left the house, entered the storm outside in search of her, having not been taught to stay out of danger. It wasn’t a devastating moment when the woman who was crushed by a broken telephone pole was found by her own child. It was just sad.

That storm had ended.

But nobody had wanted to take care of a child.

They gave her scraps of food, sips of water, but soon ushered her away from the pieces of their lives, their homes that were but heaps of rubble.

A man found her, two years later, all the while dressed in an impeccable suit, a style rather unfitting of the barren soil and rubble around them. They didn’t take her in as a child, but she was given the chance to quench her thirst, fill her stomach, and a place to sleep every night.

And she was taught. Made.

Created into something new.

Sarah Adele was born.

Her former name meant nothing anymore.

And while she mingled with soldiers of experience and new recruits alike in a building dedicated to the Williams Corporation’s pursuits in Fallacy, she was not like them.

They didn’t know it just by looking at her.

But she did.

Pretending she was normal as she gathered intel. Pretending she was average, when she could incapacitate them in her sleep. Pretending it was a normal day when the Ghosts were able to complete a difficult mission.

Sure, Sarah Adele was just an average girl, a recruit, just barely squeaking by into the ranks. That was what she told them anyway.

It wasn’t quite certain, even to her, how she’d become the Vice-Captain of the Ghosts, and it wasn’t pride that kept her there.

It was survival.

If she knew too much, as she did in her job, and she did one wrong move, declining something when she should agree with an honored feeling, they could just as easily replace her. After all, who knew how many other children they’d picked up and trained just like her? It wasn’t like they’d all get together to train.

“Hey, Sarah!”

She turned, making eye contact and smiling at one of the clueless ones.

“How’re you doing, Ella?”

“Ah, well.” She shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Went in-pod this morning already. Been a day already. And you?” Ella asked, looking at Sarah’s uniform that reached all the way up to her chin. It was a normal getup, a normal outfit. “You’re all dressed to go in?”

Sarah nodded, maintaining her smile, curving her eyes as if she were truly happy.

“I’m headed in-pod within the hour.”

“Oh, goodness. I just – I wanted to…”

“What is it, Ella?”

When her name was said so gently, the girl perked right up again, as usual. Then she leaned in, conspiratorially, her mouth next to Sarah’s ear as she whispered.

“You’ve heard of the Ghosts, right?”

Sarah nodded, widening her eyes just the right amount.

“The Ghosts?” she whispered back. “Yeah. They’re like crazy, right?”

Ella nodded vigorously. “You should hear the newest rumor.”

“A rumor?”

She glanced around before she continued, “They have a saying in that group, apparently.”

“A saying? What do they say?”

As a member of said group, Sarah was doubly curious to know what everyone else was saying of them. But the response that came through wasn’t expected.

“It’s really weird,” Ella told her. “They say to each other ‘By your hand I live. And by your hand I die.’ Doesn’t that give you chills? It’s so scary.”

Sarah nodded slowly. She refrained from clenching her fists, from glaring at the clueless girl. Playing her part, she acted. Not as Sarah Adele, but as the little girl inside, the one before the training. The one who knew nothing of world powers, just of loneliness and pain.

“Very disturbing. What kind of team talks like that? About death?”

“I know, right!”

When they parted ways and she made her way into an empty section of the facility, Sarah’s brows uncharacteristically furrowed heavily over her eyes.

A saying.

By your hand I live. And by your hand I die.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

It was one she and her team always said whenever one of them got into a tough spot and needed help.

She stopped in the hallway and turned to look back, the space behind her lay empty of people, yet she felt crowded, watched.

Who’d been the one to say it?

Who had a mouth so loose?

Or was it not us?

The last one… was the worst possible option.

As she approached the room, she filed the other thoughts away, nodding once to the woman stationed outside the door. Only authorized personnel could make it past the first door guards, and beyond that, each room remained locked until it was necessary to open it. Eight doors. That’s all there was in this wing.

Yesterday, Sarah had been able to see another person exit one of those rooms the same time she did. But Lotellia had been transferred, late last night, to a new facility. Lott, the literal tank of the Ghosts. Physically, the strongest.

What else would Lott want to do with all six feet and extra inches of her height?

In accordance with the name, it was hard to see the Ghosts. Lott had been at the same compound for a couple months. Before that, a couple of the others had made an appearance for roughly a week, only to be transferred out once more.

It was better that way, Sarah thought to herself as the door closed resolutely behind her. Better that they didn’t see one another.

That way, it was easier to pretend.

Beep-beep.

Beep-beep.

Tap.

Taking the watch off of her wrist, noting the time, and setting it on a table, she sighed.

It was time, yet again, to become a Ghost.

Tugging down the uncomfortable zipper down to the base of her neck, she glanced over at the mirror in the corner of the dimly lit room. As the uniform material fell down to her shoulders, two dark lines were visible, running down the skin there.

Things had changed in humans when they started entering Fallacy. It was as if the first pods had marked everyone individually. Some had dashed lines, or thin ones. There were many who only had one line.

Two thick dark lines were had to come by, and those were marks that decorated her skin along the neck.

But it wasn’t the only marks left by the other world.

Her finger traced the top edge of another mark, not quite visible, and she focused, calmed her hectic mind. A habit. The only one she allowed herself.

The symbol for Fallacy, a checkmark bisected with another line, was on the side of the pod, next to the words Williams Corporation as she climbed up in. She put the helmet on her head, with minimal adjustments, and lay back on the cushioned and reclined space inside.

While the waking world was a wasteland of advanced technology, Fallacy was a breath of fresh air. The world with greenery wasn’t seen anymore. It was rock and desert and cracked ground aching for a drink of water. It was a clean futuristic building with the latest tech surrounded by random junk and dirt. The only time people left the buildings were through vehicles. Towns and cities were like giant shopping malls, the roof as glass, the floor as concrete. Going for a walk meant walking around inside the neighborhood with a controlled weather system that never allowed even a tiny sprinkle of rain, if there was one. There was nowhere to go.

Fallacy lit up before her eyes as she touched the button on the side of the pod. A realistic fantastical land spread out before her. With tall sequoias and paths of dirt that were only possible through the passage of feet across the ground, paving a way through the tall lush grass, there were also humble buildings, like nothing in the world for several hundred years, if not thousands of years. No concrete. No lit-up neon signs.

It felt like travelling to an unknown past of the world. A better one. A cleaner one.

As if it were her own body and not an avatar, feeling the ground beneath her feet, the way her muscles moved as she stepped, she made her way into the nearest town marketplace, spotting a familiar face, double-checking her location map at her wrist as she noted the others pod-in to Fallacy.

It was another day.

Another mission.

But the minutes ticked by. As they all gathered in the designated area, every one of them noticed the looming and lacking presence.

“Where are we planning on going? Any ideas?”

Trying to keep a boisterous voice, Magnice looked down at the items on table at the stall in front of them. It was mostly jewels and trinkets. But the question he asked was what remained. As a code, the first word was the most important.

Each of them knew what he was asking.

Where was the Captain?

Did anyone have a clue?

Captain was late.

As someone who was never late, not once in the seven years since the beginning of the Ghosts, it meant something was horribly wrong. And getting caught as an operative, in-pod or out, wasn’t an option.

Sarah, the second in command, took a discreet glance around the marketplace, noticing through a reflection, a set of eyes that hadn’t left their group in a while.

“Disperse,” Sarah said quietly, acting as though she were merely speaking to herself as she joined Magnice in looking at the items on display, picking one up and examining it carefully, taking in every reflection on the gem as she held it up. “Big. Loud. Excessive. Drill five.”

Without even a nod of acknowledgement, the others followed suit.

“Who cares where we’re going, Jack!” Exel slapped a hand on the back of Magnice, using his preferred nickname. “It’s Fallacy! The world’s our oyster!”

“Ew. Get off me.”

Magnice shoved a hand at Exel, annoyed.

The others joined in, taking over the stall, pointing out items and debating over them. Lott picked up a hairpin and held it up to Bue’s head.

“But I don’t like pearls,” she whined.

“Then we’ll find you another one.”

Lott put it back down, barely getting it back on the table as Exel and Jack really geared up.

“You can’t have one. I saw it first.”

“There’s literally fifteen of them on the table! I’m going to get one if I want one.”

He reached for it and Magnice slapped his hand.

“Nuh-uh. I want to be the only one with one.”

“Well, then you can have the blue one. I will get green. They’re different colors, so different items.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“God, you’re like children,” Slooky interjected as he reached for a similar trinket.

“You can’t have one either!”

“Come on, you love me, right?”

As they continued on, Sarah peeked into a mirror at the stand, pretending to see if a red pin matched her clothes. Those who’d been looking at them before seemed more uncertain now. A few glanced over, pursing their lips before turning away, pursuing others. On the other hand…

Her eyes met that of a cloaked figure just stepping into the marketplace. They didn’t look around, didn’t look away. A chill raced down her spine, but she kept her breaths even, controlled. Losing that control meant giving fear a chance to lead a fight.

Fear was never a good motivator. It led to mistakes.

The figure brushed past the others with skill, even as Exel shoved Magnice into their path. They stepped around, not touched in the slightest, not stumbling or even throwing up a cautioned hand their way. Carefully, she set the pin down and waited.

Three.

Two.

One.

The figure bumped into her, a strong hand grabbing the inside of her elbow and clamping down hard enough to not be shook off with ease.

Okay, she thought to herself as they led her to a nearby empty alley, I’ll play along.

Right away, she spotted the slight color change of the stones lining the path. A square that appeared to not belong.

They were called errors.

Like a bug in a game.

Nothing in Fallacy could be recorded in that space. The system failed in those areas, messages wouldn’t go through, locations couldn’t be reported.

As their feet landed in the square, she stopped, pulling back her fist as the figure turned. If they wanted to play, she’d make the first move. They’d likely underestimated her from the start.

It was then that the hood fell away from their face, the shadows no longer disguising the shape of it.

She faltered, her hand ceasing to move, fist no longer firm and falling to her side.

“You’re late,” she breathed out, relieved to see a friendly face. “Captain.”