Another month passed.
And finally, they responded.
The message came early in the morning.
The faint vibration of my phone on the nightstand pulled me out of a shallow sleep.
I grabbed it, my eyes still adjusting to the dim light filtering through the worn curtains.
Hey.
I am Commander and Founder of PTO, Evelyn Rose.
Sorry for the wait. I don't usually check my mail often.
I'm here to inform you that your application has been accepted.
You are now an official member of PTO starting today.
You will be living at the PTO base located at the east edge of Eastwind City, alongside myself and other members.
Please pack your necessities and meet me at City Central by 5 PM.
Thank you.
I read it twice just to be sure.
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Accepted.
It felt strange — not excitement exactly, and definitely not happiness — but something closer to… relief.
Finally, something was moving forward.
Something was happening.
I looked around my small apartment.
It wasn’t much: a narrow bed, a second-hand dresser, a cracked mirror on the wall.
This place wasn’t a home. It never had been.
Packing didn’t take long.
A few clothes, some basic supplies, and a single worn photograph of my family.
That was all.
Now, it's 4:55 PM.
I arrived at City Central twenty minutes early.
The plaza was packed, the noise of the crowd blending into a dull background hum.
Vendors called out, people hurried past carrying shopping bags, and somewhere in the distance, a street musician played a slow tune.
I stood near the fountain at the center of the plaza, my backpack slung over my shoulder.
The cool breeze tugged lightly at my jacket.
I stayed still, watching the endless movement around me.
This wasn’t excitement.
It wasn’t fear either.
It was just something that needed to happen — a step I had to take.
A soft tap on my shoulder broke my focus.
I turned and saw a woman standing there — probably in her late twenties or early thirties.
She had short, dark hair tied back loosely, and wore a simple jacket and boots.
She looked casual, but there was something sharp in the way she carried herself — someone used to giving orders.
"You must be Vaughn Silver," she said.
"I’m Evelyn Rose."
Her voice was steady, straightforward.
I nodded.
She gave a slight smile, then gestured over her shoulder.
"Car’s this way. Let's move."
I followed her across the lot to a black SUV.
She popped the trunk without a word.
I placed my backpack inside and closed it gently.
Climbing into the passenger seat, I stared quietly out the window.
The city blurred past as we pulled out of the plaza.
I didn’t look back.
There was nothing here for me anymore.