Summoned
A folded tract sat wedged under the door. Daniel paused. Not cautious—never that—but irritated. He crouched, picked it up between two fingers like it might be damp or cursed or both, and straightened again.
He stepped inside his quarters and stood by the fireplace, amber light dancing across the walls. He open the tract. The message was printed in thick, even black ink:
016 Belongs to the Hive. Return.
Daniel stared at it as a long beat passed. His brow twitched. He turned the page over as if expecting more. There was nothing. No signature. It could have been left by any of the PDUs.
Earlier today, he had faced @polo-drone-073 in court. He had no clue how the next days or weeks would unfold, but he knew the Hive would not give up.
The fire cracked and Daniel didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and flicked the tract into the flames. The paper curled almost instantly, blackening at the edges, ink bubbling as the words twisted and shrank.
He watched until nothing remained but a brief flare and a curl of ash drifting upward. Tired, ready to head to the hot tub, he started removing his jersey.
“Better,” he muttered, more to himself than anything else.
------------------------- mentionned: @polo-drone-073 ------------------------- “Ready to join the Team? All you need to do is contact our recruiters @alton-gold77 or @polo-drone-125”
