Athena's head ached as the memory crashed into her like a tidal wave. The sterile white walls of a laboratory, the hum of machinery, and the unmistakable scent of antiseptic filled her mind.
She saw herself standing there, dressed in a form-fitting black suit, speaking to someone she couldn't quite make out.
The words slipped past her lips like a pre-recorded message, calculated and devoid of emotion.
"If I fail my mission, you may launch several puppets crafted like me and continue my mission in killing the greatest Mafia leader. Make sure to kill him."
Her own voice echoed in her mind, sharp and commanding. But who was she talking to? And more importantly, who was this Mafia leader she had been so desperate to eliminate?
Her pulse quickened, and she clenched her fists as if trying to ground herself in reality. The problem was, this was her reality.
She wasn't just a soldier. She wasn't just someone who had been thrown into this war.
