“You were here to kill me?”
The voice of the frightened woman in her thirties trembled as she stood at the door of her modest apartment, her eyes wide with confusion and fear as she caught sight of Felix and Emil. The dim light from the hallway cast long shadows, accentuating her vulnerability.

“Not yet,” Felix replied, his voice steady. Emil remained silent beside him, an uncharacteristic quietness that only heightened the tension in the air. As they entered the cramped one-bedroom apartment, Felix’s gaze was drawn to the small living room where two young children lay sleeping on the sofa beneath a thin blanket. Hans and Vivien. A wave of emotion surged within him as he looked at the blond boy and the little girl, their innocence a contrast to the darkness surrounding their lives. Felix's heart ached with morbid thoughts; if he ended the life of their mother here, would it also signal the end of his own existence? It was a gruesome tought, but everything about his life felt steeped in morbid realities.

“You need to run,” Felix urged.

“Tomorrow, I will indeed be here to kill you.” The woman frowned. She didn’t recognize him, nor did she recall the terrified boy her lover had tried to suffocate years ago. She didn’t see the connection of their tragic fate.

“I must wait for my lover,” she said with a shaky voice.

“Maximilian must stay behind. You must run alone,” Felix insisted, his patience wearing thin as he watched her grapple with the reality unfolding before her.

“You know… you know about Max?” she asked again, her voice shaking with rising panic.

“Are you dumb? He knows everything,” Emil snapped, frustration seeping into his tone as he finally broke his silence, unable to contain his anger at Felix for keeping him quiet for so long.

“How will we go? I don’t drive…” Her tears began to flow freely, cascading down her cheeks like the hopelessness that filled the space between them.

“Take a bus,” he replied, his voice softer yet still resolute.

“I have no money either…” she cried, her sobs breaking Felix’s already frayed composure. In a moment of frustration, he fished a stack of cash from his pocket and threw it at her. “Take it and go!” he urged, humiliation creeping into his voice. He hadn’t intended to degrade her, yet her tears ignited an anger within him that he couldn’t fully comprehend. She hesitated, collecting the money with shaking hands. “Let me wake the kids,” she said, panic coloring her voice.

“The kids must stay. Take the money and go. Immediately leave the country if you can. Tomorrow, I don’t want to see you here or you will be dead. But the kids… the kids must stay,” Felix said, lowering his voice, desperate to make her understand the gravity of the situation.

“I won’t leave them with that monster!” she screamed, her eyes wide with refusal.

“They…” Felix’s voice softened, his heart aching as the little girl stirred awake, looking at him with her big blue eyes. In that moment, he felt a sudden shift within himself, a softening of the cold armor he had built around his heart.

“They will be fine, I promise. I will make sure… I will make sure to change things for them.” As he looked into the girl’s innocent gaze, he felt a profound sense of purpose. He was meant to protect her, to give her a chance at love and a home—everything he had been denied for so long. In that moment, he understood that he was there to fix the mistakes of the past, to save her from a destiny that seemed all too familiar.

“Mommy?” the little girl asked, her voice small and frail, searching for her mother.

“Everything is okay, baby, go back to sleep,” Helena replied, her voice trembling, yet filled with a mother’s love. Felix could see the conflict in her eyes, the desire to flee battling against the instinct to protect her children.

He knew she intended to leave; she had taken his warning seriously. But the next day, the only thing they found in the apartment was the sound of a crying girl. Nikolai was not happy, nor was Jozef, as Felix would later learn. Emil confessed that they had gone to give Helena a warning after torturing a young man for hours. Nikolai had a sadistic edge at times, and Emil radiated fear as the flesh on his face started piling off from the brutality he had endured. Felix didn’t blame him for confessing, not even when he felt the same Soldatov rage directed at him during Nikolai’s visit to his home. Even though Felix tried to fight back, Nikolai was far stronger, his punches fueled by a rage that seemed to consume him. Why was he so angry? Was it because Felix had tested his patience for so long? Was it the humiliation of not being able to control his own man? Or was it the fact that he was ridiculed by his petty cousin Maximilian? All of these thoughts raced through Felix's mind as he lay on the ground, bruised and broken.



“You little shit!” Nikolai spat as he delivered one final kick to Felix’s stomach. Boy was not match to him.

“You should know, Evgeny controls Maximilian. We had to ask Slava Voronov for help. He ordered Evgeny to kill Helena. Leonid is disposing of her body as we speak. She tried to run away with Maximilian and Hans, but Maximilian answered Evgeny’s call and let the old man end her life once they tried to hide in the village. Next time, Felix, when you try playing with us, you should know: you are not the only one this organization depends on. Cross me again, and I will kill you.” Nikolai spoke with a calmness that sent a chill down Felix's spine. His eyes remained fixed on Felix’s face, and the boy couldn’t tell if he was crying from the pain or from the devastating news of Helena’s death.
Or perhaps...
"Asshole", he wanted to yell;
"You are one cold blooded asshole who use people for your own gain, who use me, you don't love anyone, you especially don't love me, yet I still admire you, I still want you to notice me, I want you to respect my opinion, I want you to be different! Why can't you be different!" He cried but words were not coming out, not for Nikolai to hear.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the order of things,” Nikolai said coldly before leaving, the door clicking shut behind him. Felix felt so small, lying there choking on his own blood. Worthless. Rotting. How could he ever change anything? If Helena had lived, his aunt might have had a chance at a normal life, at being a mother. But he couldn’t protect her, so what hope did he have of changing anything at all? Doubt clawed at him, whispering that perhaps everything must happen exactly as it always had. His dream of being on a secret mission, of changing the world, suddenly felt meaningless, like a child’s fantasy. He was just a lost boy, adrift in a sea of despair.