The Peculiar Patterns of Project X-9
Chapter 3 The Boss
The first time Atlas heard the name, it wasn't spoken out loud.
It appeared on a screen.
No sender.
No subject.
Just a single line of text on Freya's phone:
CASE SOLVED.
Freya stared at it. "I didn't even open anything."
Kenshin went pale.
"…He found us," he said.
Atlas looked between them. "Who?"
Kenshin swallowed.
"The Boss."
They didn't have time to run.
The park lights flickered once, twice then stayed off.
The air felt tight, like the world was holding its breath.
A man stepped out from behind the trees.
Tall.
Plain.
No dramatic coat, no weapon, no glowing eyes.
He looked like someone you'd forget five seconds after seeing.
Which was the scariest part.
"I prefer not to be interrupted," the man said calmly. "But anomalies demand attention."
Freya clenched her fists. "You talk like this is paperwork."
"It is," The Boss replied. "You three are irregular data."
His eyes stopped on Kenshin.
"And you," he added, "are using something you don't understand."
Atlas felt the pressure first.
Not on his body.
On the moment.
Like time itself had been pinned down.
He tried to move.
Couldn't.
Freya gasped beside him. Kenshin dropped to one knee, gripping his head.
The Boss sighed. "I'll make this efficient."
He raised his hand
And the world rewound half a second.
Not visually.
Conceptually.
Atlas felt his own heartbeat repeat.
"That's impossible," Kenshin whispered. "You're not using The Race."
The Boss nodded. "Correct. I don't need it."
He smiled, just a little.
"I was created to solve outcomes. Deadly needed something that could catch what The Race leaves behind."
Deadly.
The name made the air feel wrong.
"The Race finishes stories," The Boss continued. "Deadly cleans up what shouldn't exist."
His gaze shifted to Atlas.
"And you," he said, "are an unauthorized continuation."
Pain hit.
Not physical
existential.
Atlas felt himself thinning, like someone was erasing him sentence by sentence.
Freya screamed his name.
Kenshin reached for the goggles
Too late.
The Boss snapped his fingers.
The goggles shattered.
Not exploded.
Invalidated.
Kenshin collapsed.
Freya hit the ground next.
Atlas was alone.
He couldn't breathe.
Not because there was no air.
Because there was no time left for him.
So this is how it ends, he thought.
And then
Something answered.
Not a voice.
Not words.
Permission.
The world stopped.
Not froze.
Stopped.
The Boss frowned for the first time.
"That's… not possible."
Atlas stood up.
Time didn't resume.
It waited.
Atlas felt it
threads everywhere.
Scenes before they happened.
Memories after they ended.
He wasn't controlling it.
He was standing where control used to be.
A presence pressed against him.
Heavy.
Finished.
The Race.
You are not the owner, it conveyed.
But you are allowed.
Atlas didn't understand how, but he nodded.
And stepped forward.
The park rewrote itself badly.
Frames skipped.
Sounds arrived late.
Shadows moved before objects.
The Boss staggered.
"You're breaking sequence," he snapped. "That violates"
Atlas raised his hand.
The sentence ended early.
Not silenced.
Finished.
The Boss was thrown backward not by force, but by conclusion.
He hit the tree and slid down, coughing.
Time rushed back in all at once.
Freya screamed. Kenshin gasped.
The goggles lay broken.
Atlas collapsed to his knees.
The mark on his wrist burned.
The Boss stood slowly, adjusting his tie like this was a minor inconvenience.
"…Interesting," he muttered. "Deadly will want to know."
He looked at Atlas one last time.
"You didn't win," he said. "You delayed the case."
Then he stepped backward
And vanished between seconds.
Silence.
Freya crawled to Atlas and hugged him hard. "Don't ever do that again."
Kenshin stared at the broken goggles, shaking.
"That wasn't The Race," he whispered.
Atlas looked at his hands.
"I know," he said.
Far away
somewhere beyond time, beyond narrative
something ugly smiled.
End of Chapter 3.