Chapter 4: A New Path

He walked as quietly as he could, trying not to draw any attention to himself.

Moving around the large complicated building with twin structures, parallel halls and all white/grey exterior, his steps filled with the unwavering confidence of someone who knew this place like his own backyard.

Except this wasn't a backyard, nor had he ever had one-no, this was the building dorm assigned to all Dispatch Officer's in level one.

He knew very well the information that had been disclosed to Mr. Spears, and had been reassured that most of his personal bio had been kept secret. And that he should have been placed into Building Level 10, not one, but he didn't particularly care.

Besides, in the end he doubted it would matter, as he would eventually be assigned level ten missions regardless of his assigned quarters.

This little thought caused him to snort, a very un-lady like snort, but then again he had no reason to be ladylike at this particular time.

Now, he prided himself in being that polite, serious, and straight to the point individual, those that made everyone think of an elder scolding you.

But, in reality it meant nothing if he was shown something of an interesting quality.

This caused an involuntary smirk to twist his features, and it was one of those times he was thankful nobody could see under the mask that hid them.

He might be a complicated being in all truth, both mentally and physically.

Sometimes his actions didn't match his thoughts and vice-versa. He could be that way too serious, pole-up-his-ass guy, or just not.

Grunting he ran one gloved hand through silky dark blue locks, finally locating his designated door room and fishing out the key from his deep pockets, unlocking it.

Carefully stepping inside, he peered cautiously.

Many had called him exaggerated back at the Russian Unit, but he knew one could never be too careful; it might just change a lot more than you thought.

He supposed the room was actually quite decent, even a bit bigger than he had anticipated. To be honest, it was a lot more spacious than the one he'd had back in Russia.

The walls were a soft grey and his roof a dark black, a small bed occupied the corner space with fresh white sheets and pillows, a plain dark wood dresser on the opposite wall and an adjoining desk on the side with a thick wooden chair, the floor was also covered in a fuzzy black carpet.

"It's good enough", he murmured while fighting the urge to hold back a small smile.

Making sure to lock the door, he had a quick look around; well so far everything was intact. His new lodgings seemed safe, for now anyway.

Unzipping his long leather coat and putting it on one of the empty hangers on the dresser, he pulled down his mask and took in a deep long breath.

He sat on the edge of his new bed and stretched as far as he could which-mind you- was putting it lightly as he was quite flexible. Stopping to unlace his heavy black combat boots and push them off his (smelly) tired feet.

Once that was done, he took his time taking off his thin leather gloves, revealing scarred, slender hands with lots of silver rings adorning the fingers; some were thick, some were thin, others plain or fancy. Though there was one ring, that if you were first even able to notice, stood out from the rest.

Located on his right pinky; it was just a simple looking band, very thin-even more so than the others- and delicate, however it was a deep midnight color, and somehow it was able to draw the unsuspecting eye to it, to the strange ancient carved in patterns.

He gazed at it for a small moment, then threw himself back on the bed, running his hands on the covers as if it were snow and he were making angels.

Just now he took notice of the mini nightstand beside him, he reached for the seemingly built in lamp and pulled the little string to turn on the light.

He sighed and decided he might as well get some rest, taking off his glasses and placing them on the night stand, he tried to think.

For some curious reason he felt like screaming, like crying, like fighting, the urge to hit someone, something, anything.

But he had been down this road many times before and would not fall into its temptation.

He would ignore these feelings, just like he always did. Humans felt, and last time he checked he was no longer classified under that species.

The Eldest Council knew what they were doing, so did the Russian Unit and the International Dispatch Management Division, he was of no oblivion either.

He knew his mission, he knew his targets, in four weeks they would contact him and he had to be sure that everything was going according to plan, he must be ready.

He could not afford to let anything keep him from succeeding, there would be no surprises this time.