Eighteen years ago, a baby was born. It lay softly in a basket padded with comfort as it rested with no sign of its parents nearby. It was silent, yet it existed at the doorstep of one of the cover establishments of the White Trigger headquarters, a cafe called BlanCafe.

Inside the basket, a smooth paper occupied the space where the infant was sleeping peacefully. There was neat penmanship written on the note. “White Trigger,” it said.

The organization knew what to do with the infant. And that was to raise him as an agent whose entire life depended on the eradication of superpowered people.

The organization called these superpowered people “Triggers.” Their existence remains catastrophic, leaving immense destruction and massive death to those around them—at least, that is what the organization taught the infant.

The organization named its agents “White Triggers” and trained them rigorously in physical and intellectual aspects. Since the power imbalance between an agent and a trigger was massive, the organization made sure to make its average agent at least able to level the imbalance.

But they knew it wasn’t enough. It’s impossible to match a trigger’s capabilities with its unique powers, so education on how to encounter triggers using the organization’s technological inventions became the standard.

And even though eighteen years have passed, the infant was still not given a name, at least not one he can connect to. I know it because that infant is me.

The organization gave me the name Felix, but I would have preferred my actual parents giving me a name and me knowing who they are. 

I lived my entire existence inside the organization’s principles and dedicated myself to making sure I was nothing but an exemplary agent. But despite my dedication, I remained without a mission, with no one to need me whenever there’s a kill mission.

It might seem strange for someone to hope to kill another person, but I’m not entirely certain about my stance on the topic. 

It just felt like I needed to be helpful in that certain area as I stood in every interaction with my fellow agents, hearing that the only reason they became agents was because their families and loved ones were killed by triggers. 

Ever since I was a child, I understood their pain and grief, but my face didn’t know it, as if I lacked the ability to express it.

The organization raised me and cared for me, and it still does. Yet, I grew up to be someone who can’t show his emotions. 

I told myself it was for the best that I couldn’t. So that when the time came, I wouldn’t see triggers as nothing but the destruction, death, and sadness that they bring.

I’m always an agent first, which is why I avoided socializing and forming attachments, because I knew that you can never truly know who might be a trigger.

During my time in the headquarters, I was assigned to teach my young fellow rookie agents the basics on how to fight. 

I’ve always hated teaching the children because they reminded me of myself. The only difference between them and me was that they were unfortunate enough to know their families while I wasn’t.

Everything changed when they called me. I felt a surge of unfamiliar excitement as it meant embarking on a mission where I was purposeful.

But when I learned the details of my mission, my excitement faded away, but I also felt some kind of relief that I wasn’t going to kill someone.

Even so, I still went on as an agent and continued to be so even when the trigger hadn’t woken for a year and half, during which time the family eventually got comfortable with the roles the organization gave to us.

The other four agents—my family—were pleased that the mission was unusual, safe, and peaceful. Though I wasn’t sure if I felt the same way.

We expected the trigger to wake up from his slumber after two years. Which would give the family enough time to become a pretend family around him.

During the trigger’s sleep, my world felt lonely. I needed only to perform the routine I was expected to perform: to wake up, to eat, to go to school, to train, to sleep, and repeat.

The bed felt harsh and uncomfortable for my taste despite its expensive price, but I eventually got used to it. The only thing that made up for it was the breeze on the balcony that came while I smoked.

Everything changed when I met him awake. He was something I didn’t expect, as I was trained to kill people like him, yet I kept approaching him like we were actually friends.

I couldn’t think my life in the organization was stagnant and boring because they gave me the life that made me who I am, but none of it mattered when he was around because I felt the opposite.

Ever since I was young, I couldn’t bear to interact with people. It didn’t help that I was unable to express emotions or react. I simply just stood around uttering silence. I simply just existed. 

But with him, I surprised myself with sentences I never thought I would think of or jokes I never thought I would say to another person.

It always made me wonder why I wasn’t bothered that I could act so casually towards someone who is capable of causing human extinction. And there is a part of me that will always wonder about it, but I know that only time will tell, only if it allows me.

Today is the twenty-third of June, and it’s already five in the morning, which means I have to prepare for the party that initially starts today.

After showering and putting on my student uniform, I immediately went for breakfast and was immediately told by Mom that Ley was still asleep and that I shouldn’t bother him.

The family ate at an earlier time compared to the usual time that Ley had gotten used to, so it made sense that he was still asleep.

At the dining table, everyone had already dressed up for the party. Mom wore a brown floral dress, accompanied by sophisticated brown boots, as an appropriate outfit for a trendy, rich housewife.

Dad brought his casual floral polo shirt with the same pattern as Mom’s and wore it with dark brown linen shorts, matching with Mom.

Iris dressed elegantly, wearing her business-casual light purple dress. While Alex wore the same hoodie design he’d worn every day, this time it’s salmon-colored paired with black cotton pants.

As we finished our early breakfast, we immediately headed to school using the jeep. But before Dad could start the jeep, Mom informed the family that Ley would be completely alone in the house but confidently assured us that it was alright, so hearing that, none of us dared to question it any further.

The family arrived at the school at seven, which was early enough for us to stand around watching Mom and Dad as they waited and interacted with other families’ parents.

The party was just a lame excuse so that the school could be used as a hosting place for our supposed vacation so that we could cater to the other rich family’s eyes as the village’s richest family.

Finally. The Silva and Takachi families are here, the other two families that the organization placed before us Smiths. So that means Mikay and Jay are here.

Mikay and Jay weren’t really agents, only their parents. At first, I was disappointed because they were the only people I could interact with in this place. But it didn’t matter to me after spending time with them and actually getting to know them a little bit just enough for us to be friends.

“Hey!!!” Jay’s energetically loud voice echoed as he ran towards me, waving his hand.

Jay was loud, but everyone around us remained unfazed because it was normal for him to be like that; in fact, he’s not even loud as usual.

Mikay walked beside Jay going toward me, still having her hand on her phone as it completely occupied her attention.

In the brief moment she casually walked in her silver dress, she captured everyone’s attention with her exceptionality. Well, this was expected for a daughter of a supermodel.

“You’re still early as ever,” Mikay flatly said, her eyes not even meeting mine as her phone steals her focus still. “I see you’re still wearing the school’s uniform to this event.”

“Dude, you know you don’t have to wear that, right?” Jay explained what Mikay meant, making her nod in agreement.

“Yes, I know,” I flatly replied, instead of just nodding or turning my head side to side to nonverbally react to their comments.

Mikay almost dropped her phone, shifting her focus to me after hearing me talk, staring at me with utter confusion, as did Jay, who stood beside her.

“Who are you? What have you done to our Felix?” Mikay questioned.

I knew what she meant, but I also didn’t know how to properly answer it, so I could only reply in silence while thinking of a plausible answer. Only then did I match their stares back at them using a question to answer them. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not usually this chatty… or ever,” Jay said. 

“Exactly… I don’t think we’ve ever heard you say a word,” Mikay exaggerated. “Something happened… and you’re going to tell us what. But first, let’s go to the pool because I need to relax.”

The three of us wore our swimwear first from the custom-made rooms that the school constructed for us before heading to the pool.

Jay immediately jumped excitedly in the pool while Mikay and I sat at the edge of the pool, soaking our feet to relax.

“So… tell us what happened. How can you suddenly talk after all this time?" I listened to Mikay as she and Jay, who stood in the pool, stared at me.

I hesitated to answer, not because I didn’t want to answer them. Especially when Mikay and Jay are the first and only people I’ve been comfortable enough to be friends with, but I couldn’t.

However, the organization or Mom never really instructed the family not to disclose that she adopted someone, just his identity, so I figured it would be okay to tell them.

“Mom adopted a foster child, who is infectiously chatty enough to influence me,” I told the two.

“I see,” Mikay flatly said.

“Tell us who they are!” Jay energetically exclaimed, splashing water towards me and Mikay.

“Uhh. I can’t tell you who they are,” I replied softly.

“You can’t? Or you won’t?” Mikay questioned, wanting me to clarify.

“Well. Mom explicitly forbade the family from telling his identity to anyone until he’s ready, so I can't," I clarified using a lie, just to get them off my back.

“Well, there goes an interesting topic,” Mikay sighed disappointedly.

“I’d want to push it, but… Mrs. Smith terrifies me,” Jay joked, but I could tell that he was serious, because I feel the same way.

“Same… probably even more terrified of her than my mother,” Mikay added. “Now, at least we know the person’s a he.”

“It’d be nice to meet the person who broke your silence,” Jay remarked.

“He’ll be enrolled in our class next school year, so you two will be able to meet him,” I said to cheer the two up.

“Good,” Mikay says. “At least there’s something to look forward to after this boring fucking event.”

After our conversation ended, we officially began the month of our summer party vacation, where we absolutely do nothing but what we want.

It’s just the typical wealthy people’s behavior that I managed to adapt as my own ever since coming here to this place. To be continued on the next part...