Is there anyone in this world you actually care about?"
The question hung in the air. Aditya didn’t even look up. A cold, bored smile played on his lips. "No," he replied flatly. "I don’t care about anybody. The only person I love in this universe is myself."
He wasn't lying. In a world where 99.9% of the population was completely ordinary, Aditya was part of the elite 0.1%. Only one out of every thousand people was born with an extraordinary gift. You could spot them instantly by the perfect, square-shaped red mark stamped onto the skin of their hands. Because of their immense power, a global special organization controlled them, assigning them high-stakes missions across the world.
Aditya's latest assignment brought him all the way from India to the chaotic streets of New York City. Intel from top secret agents suggested that a dangerous faction of superpowered humans had arrived in the city, plotting an absolute takeover.
To track them down, Aditya needed a perfect cover. He didn't bust through doors; instead, he subtly manipulated his way into a job with the local police department. Working the city beat gave him the perfect excuse to patrol the streets, gather intelligence, and keep tabs on both the police network and the hero organization's local movements.
One night, while walking a dark alley on his round, he cornered a local informant—a rough-looking young guy, barely twenty, casually tapping a pack of tobacco against his palm.
"You want to know who is running the shadows?" the informant muttered, looking around nervously. "They call themselves the NVA. The New York Villain Agency. They’re a mercenary group of power-users. You pay them, they do the tracking, the kidnapping, the murders."
The informant leaned in closer, dropping a crumpled piece of paper into Aditya's hand. On it was an address. "That's the guy who knows where their main base is. But if you go there, you're on your own."
Aditya looked at the address, his red mark catching the dim streetlight. The game was finally beginning
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