A sharp chime echoed in Jace Halloran's skull.
> [Providence has awakened. The Infinity Ledger is now aware of your existence.]
His eyes snapped open.
His vision was too sharp. He could see the dust particles floating in the air, the faint cracks in the ceiling, the tiny scratches on the glass of his bedside table. His breath was steady, but his heartbeat was a slow, calculated rhythm, like a predator just before a hunt.
Then he felt it—something was missing.
His hand reached for his ring. His father's ring.
Gone.
His brows furrowed. He had worn it every day since his father's death two years ago. It had never left his finger. He had fallen asleep with it on.
Where the hell did it go?
Then, a voice.
Cold. Mechanical. Emotionless.
"The ring has merged with your body. You are now the Host of Providence."
Jace froze.
The voice wasn't coming from a speaker, a device, or an earpiece.
It was inside him.
His fingers clenched into fists. What does that even mean?
Knock.
The sound was sharp. Too sharp. His ears picked up the subtle shift of weight on the wooden floor outside his door. Three people. Heavy boots.
The voice in his head—Providence—spoke again, its tone a fraction sharper.
"Do not open it."
Jace's muscles tensed.
"Mr. Halloran," a voice came from the other side. Male. Firm. Professional. "We need to speak with you."
Jace didn't move.
The second knock was more forceful. "Open up. Now."
His grip tightened. His instincts screamed at him.
Then—
BOOM.
The door exploded inward.
Three men. Armed.
Jace had zero time to think.
Yet, his body moved.
First attacker— He sidestepped, caught the man's wrist, and twisted. SNAP. The scream was cut off as Jace drove an elbow into his throat. One down.
Second attacker— A fist came for his face. He weaved under it, stepped forward, and slammed his palm into the man's throat. The guy gagged, choking, dropping his gun. Two down.
Third attacker— The leader. Jace pivoted behind him, an unnatural calculation running through his brain. Angle. Force. Speed. A brutal strike to the base of the skull. The man crumpled. Three down.
Five moves. Six seconds.
The room fell into silence.
Jace exhaled slowly, lowering his hands.
His body wasn't shaking. His breathing was even. No adrenaline crash, no hesitation. It was like he had done this a thousand times.
He looked down.
A Desert Eagle lay on the floor beside the second attacker.
Jace picked it up. The weight was heavy, solid. Comfortable.
He flicked the safety off without even looking.
His eyes fell on the groaning leader. The man clutched his ribs, glaring up at Jace.
Jace leveled the gun at his head.
"Who sent you?" His voice was eerily calm.
The man spat blood. "You're dead, Halloran."
"Interrogate him quickly," Providence instructed. "You have less than ten seconds."
Jace's grip on the gun tightened. Why?
Then—
A gunshot.
Not from Jace.
The leader's head snapped back. A perfect kill shot.
Jace's body reacted instantly. His eyes darted to the window, and in a split second—
He saw everything.
Distance: 237 meters.
Sniper position: Rooftop, southeast.
Angle: 41 degrees downward.
Time to fire: 1.4 seconds before they relocate.
His finger squeezed the trigger.
Bang.
One shot. One kill.
Through the scope of the sniper's rifle, he saw the man's body slump.
Jace barely blinked.
How the hell...
Sirens.
Faint but getting closer. Someone had called the cops.
Providence spoke, its tone sharper. "Leave. Now."
Jace turned to the window. Fourth floor.
He didn't hesitate.
Gun in hand, he jumped.