Tall buildings rose high above Trace, and, as the dark alleyway appeared before him, so did Hailey and four other assassins. They were all dressed in black cloaks, same as him.

Hailey turned to count her group members, smiling brightly at Trace in turn. This earned her an eye-roll.

A man turned into the alley and headed straight for Trace, a bloody knife in his right hand. Trace leaped forward, sliding under the man's legs. The man tumbled forward.

"It's your first mission, Trace. Be on the lookout for oncoming threats," Hailey warned, drawing out a knife from inside her cloak. She bent her knees and whipped around, sprinting away. The rest of the assassins followed her.

Trace watched as they left, wondering if he was supposed to follow, too. Was she leaving him on purpose, or was this the way she meant for him to follow?

Your group has migrated to mission area, his Modifier alerted him.

Am I supposed to kill this guy? Trace asked the Machine in his head. When he got no response, he pulled a knife from his cloak and flipped it around in his hand. Guess I have no choice, huh?

"Please don't kill me! I'm innocent!" The man cowered to the ground, dropping his knife. Tears dripped down his cheeks.

"How annoying," Trace mumbled, taking a few steps towards the man.

No communicating with your victims. It violates Phantom procedures, his Modifier warned him coldly.

Wasn't planning on it, Trace scoffed, frowning. He stared down at the shaking man. He looked so weak, so innocent. Trace's face warped in disgust. Why would such a nice-looking man commit murder?

Trace lifted his knife and flung it quickly at the man's defenseless skull. The sharp blade split the man's head in half and stayed there. Blood rippled down the sides of his face, skin peeled at his broken bone. A scream was stuck on his lips, his mouth strained open. A perfect example of rigor mortis.

Group mission completed. Automatic spawn to base, his Modifier recalled, activating the teleportation device. Trace floated from the ground, frowning at the man sleeping in his own blood.

Maybe the next mission will be more of a challenge, Trace thought skeptically, sighing. His body tingled with the intense thrill of holding a knife. A strange, addictive feeling overcame him and a smile slithered onto his lips, satisfied with his selfish, careless deed.

Trace was teleported back into the dining hall, where his group was sitting, chattering away and laughing. Hailey saw him and waved him over.

"How was your first mission, Trace?" An older-sounding man smirked, wrapping his arm casually over Hailey's shoulder. "You didn't get lost, did you?"

Trace's skin pricked. Affection wasn't allowed at Phantom. His Modifier informed him of this--he didn't like this guy at all.

"Lost?" Trace purred, smiling. "Of course not."

The group was quiet as Trace moved closer to Hailey, flicking the guy's arm off her shoulders. The guy hopped down and flipped his hood up, revealing his identity to the group. An angry snarl found its way through his lips.

Trace laughed, flipping his hood up as well. The group gasped when they saw his face, as if they hadn't seen it before. Didn't they see his identity when he turned on the feature?

"Dereck, don't provoke him," Hailey warned, adjusting her hood nervously over her face. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not she should take it off.

"Don't provoke him? He just shoved me off my own girlfriend!" Dereck shouted, disapprovingly. He glared at Trace. "Who do you think you are, newbie?"

Trace's lips quirked up, and he flipped his hood back over his head. "I'm Trace." Then, he turned and stalked off, not sure exactly where he was headed. The group watched after him, unsure of what to say.

"Wait, Trace," a girl spoke up, hesitantly. Trace turned his head, frowning. The girl took a deep breath and then spoke: "The Phantom Ambassador's want to speak with you. It's about the mission."

Hailey snapped her head at the girl's outburst, obviously angry. Then, she stood up from her seat and made her way to Trace, who turned around to face her.

"Trace, I didn't want to tell you because I wanted our team to get to know each other better. The better the bond, the better the kill, right?" Hailey sounded utterly depressed.

"Yeah, sure," Trace agreed sarcastically. "Like a therapy group."

Hailey smiled slightly. "Not quite, newbie." She turned to look back at her group, and then looked back at Trace. "You see, there's a reason why we have a lower amount of members in our group than others. You're one of the special people to be transported into our group."

Dereck walked in next to Hailey, slinging his arm over her shoulders again, raising his eyebrows. An amused, taunting smirk stretched across his chapped lips. His hair was matted with sweat, shining.

"Hey, activate your feature," Dereck ordered Trace, leaning forward to peck a kiss near Hailey's mouth.

Trace clenched his fist. It was against the rules. Against the rules. Stiffly, he lifted his hand up to his neck, slowly pulling out the Modifier. The world went black around him, and his head swam in the scary void. His heart felt cold, scared, and alone. He felt like crawling into a ball and dying. Why did he feel this way?

A few seconds later, his vision phased into view. A gasp left his lips. The people in front of him looked strange. He could see their faces, but their eyes weren't normal. They were red. Dark, crimson holes.

"You see it, don't you?" Hailey smiled, batting her eyelashes. Dereck chuckled in amusement. Three people stood behind them; a girl with short blonde hair, a young boy with black hair, and a middle-aged man with red hair that covered half his face.

"See what?" Trace asked, dumbfounded. He couldn't register the stupidity coming from his mouth. He creased his eyebrows in confusion. What's going on? He asked his Modifier frantically. When no answer came, he panicked.

"If you're going to be in my group, WP7, you can't obey the rules all the time," Hailey said flatly. "When your scan feature is in use, your Modifier is useless."

Trace went to turn it back on. The strange feeling of guilt swept over him. He was betraying Phantom. He was making a big mistake.

Hailey was too fast. She leapt forward, grabbing both of Trace's hands before he could reach up and push the Machine back into his head. In this quick movement, a screw wiggled loose. Trace's hand fell to the ground.

"What-" Trace gasped, frightened. His eyes widened to the size of plums as he stared at his wrist with no hand.

Hailey knelt down to pick it up. "Trace, Phantom did this. They put the Modifier into your head to make you believe they're the right choice. The truth is, they're never the right choice. You shouldn't listen to them. Keep your Modifier in scan-mode for most of the time, except for when you go on missions or teleport. That's for the best, I think." She stood up, examining the metallic hand. It was very intricate, including all of the joints there would normally be in a hand.

Trace blinked at the curious artifact. Why hadn't he noticed that his hand was missing and replaced with a robotic one?

"Geez," Dereck sighed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, "they could have at least let him know about his missing hand."

Hailey creased her eyebrows, her eyes getting brighter and darker red rapidly, studying the hand. "It's strange they didn't give him a single clue about who he was in the past, yet we have scraps and pieces left inside our heads." She displayed a sad frown and gave him the hand back. "They didn't let you keep any. That's strange, indeed."

Trace carefully slipped the hands back into its place and a glove appeared over it, like some digital clothing. He instantly felt conscious that he was probably wearing the same digital clothing.

"Who I was... in the past?" Trace stared blankly at Hailey, studying her irises.

"Yes, Trace. We all have bits of our memories still in our heads. Like, I know my real name is Katherine, but I keep it a secret from Phantom so they don't completely wipe away my knowledge," Hailey explained in a low whisper.

"Real name?" Trace choked, feeling the same lonely feeling creeping back into him. "So I'm not really..."

Hailey smiled. "I don't like talking about sad things. Why don't you head to the Ambassador's headquarters? They're waiting for you to discuss your mission."

Trace nodded. "I'm going to push my Modifier back in." It sounded like a horrible thing to do, and Trace didn't know why, but he felt like he shouldn't obey Phantom. Regardless, he lifted his hand to his neck.

"Oh, before you go," Hailey smiled, stepping back to Dereck. "I'd like to let you know that WP7 stands for Wolf Pack Seven. We're not really wolves, but like wolves, we have strong enough bonds to kill like wolves: expertly."

Trace clicked in the Modifier. His body snapped into a stoic, fake emotion. The hard line of his lips curled into a smile. A digital smile.

He floated up, and his vision went black.

Mission report #1 start, his Modifier informed him.