#Security Compliance Officer

[sabamvm]

Enhancing IT Security: Strategies and Best Practices

Introduction:

In the contemporary digital landscape, where businesses and individuals heavily rely on interconnected systems, ensuring robust IT security is paramount. The exponential growth of cyber threats poses significant challenges to organizations of all sizes, requiring proactive measures to safeguard sensitive data, protect privacy, and maintain operational integrity. This article explores the importance of IT security, key challenges, and effective strategies to fortify digital defenses.

Importance of IT Security:

IT security encompasses a range of measures designed to safeguard digital assets, including hardware, software, networks, and data, against unauthorized access, breaches, and cyber attacks. The consequences of security breaches can be severe, leading to financial losses, reputational damage, legal liabilities, and compromised customer trust.

With the proliferation of connected devices, cloud services, and sophisticated attack vectors, the attack surface has expanded, making organizations more vulnerable to exploitation. Consequently, investing in robust IT security frameworks is essential to mitigate risks and ensure business continuity in an increasingly volatile threat landscape.

 Key Challenges in IT Security:

Despite advancements in security technologies, organizations face several challenges in maintaining effective IT security:

1. **Sophisticated Threat Landscape**: Cybercriminals leverage advanced techniques such as malware, ransomware, phishing, and social engineering to infiltrate networks and compromise systems.

2. **Insider Threats**: Malicious insiders or negligent employees pose significant risks to organizational security by intentionally or inadvertently disclosing sensitive information or engaging in malicious activities.

3. **Compliance Requirements**: Organizations must adhere to regulatory mandates and industry standards governing data protection and privacy, such as GDPR, HIPAA, PCI DSS, and SOX, which impose stringent requirements and penalties for non-compliance.

4. **Resource Constraints**: Limited budgets, shortage of skilled cybersecurity professionals, and competing priorities often constrain organizations' ability to implement comprehensive security measures.

Strategies for Enhancing IT Security:

To address these challenges and bolster IT security posture, organizations can adopt the following strategies and best practices:

1. **Risk Assessment and Management**: Conduct regular risk assessments to identify potential threats, vulnerabilities, and impact on critical assets. Develop risk management frameworks to prioritize mitigation efforts and allocate resources effectively.

2. **Implement Multi-Layered Defense Mechanisms**: Deploy a multi-layered approach to security, combining preventive, detective, and corrective controls at the network, host, and application layers. This includes firewalls, intrusion detection systems (IDS), antivirus software, endpoint protection, encryption, and access controls.

3. **User Education and Awareness**: Foster a culture of security awareness among employees through training programs, workshops, and simulated phishing exercises. Educate users about common threats, phishing scams, password hygiene, and best practices for safeguarding sensitive information.

4. **Regular Software Patching and Updates**: Keep software, operating systems, and firmware up-to-date with the latest security patches and fixes to address known vulnerabilities and mitigate potential exploitation by attackers.

5. **Secure Configuration Management**: Harden system configurations, disable unnecessary services, and enforce least privilege access controls to minimize the attack surface and limit the impact of security incidents.

6. **Data Encryption and Privacy Controls**: Encrypt sensitive data both in transit and at rest using robust encryption algorithms and cryptographic protocols. Implement data loss prevention (DLP) solutions and access controls to prevent unauthorized disclosure or misuse of confidential information.

7. **Incident Response and Contingency Planning**: Develop incident response plans outlining procedures for detecting, analyzing, and responding to security incidents promptly. Establish communication channels, escalation paths, and recovery strategies to minimize downtime and restore normal operations.

8. **Continuous Monitoring and Auditing**: Deploy security information and event management (SIEM) solutions to monitor network traffic, detect suspicious activities, and generate real-time alerts. Conduct regular security audits, penetration testing, and vulnerability assessments to identify weaknesses and remediate security gaps proactively.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, prioritizing IT security is imperative for organizations to mitigate cyber risks, protect critical assets, and preserve stakeholder trust in an increasingly interconnected world. By adopting proactive measures, leveraging best practices, and fostering a culture of security awareness, organizations can strengthen their resilience against evolving threats and maintain a competitive edge in today's digital landscape. Remember, in the realm of cybersecurity, vigilance and preparedness are key to staying one step ahead of adversaries and safeguarding the integrity of digital ecosystems.

#Cybersecurity Analyst #Information Security Specialist #IT Security Consultant #Network Security Engineer #Security Operations Center (SOC) Analyst #Penetration Tester (Ethical Hacker) #Chief Information Security Officer (CISO) #Security Architect #Security Compliance Officer #Incident Response Analyst

[jcmarchi]

Must-know insights when navigating the CISO career path - CyberTalk

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/must-know-insights-when-navigating-the-ciso-career-path-cybertalk/

Must-know insights when navigating the CISO career path - CyberTalk

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:

The CISO career path is as exciting as it is fraught with perils. Modern CISOs exist at the intersection of technology, security and business strategy. The stakes are high and the simplest of initiatives can easily command commendation or crumble and collapse, ending in highly visible, catastrophic failures.

Succeeding within a CISO role requires a unique skill set and a unique blend of industry perspectives. In this article, we’ll highlight essential approaches for both aspiring and seasoned CISOs to pursue in setting themselves up for success.

CISO career path insights

Regardless of where you are along your CISO career path, enrich your everyday with these pragmatic insights. Ensure that you maintain and emphasize:

1. Agility in an evolving landscape

Cyber threats and technologies evolve at a mind-bending pace. For instance, as artificial intelligence and deepfake technologies are becoming increasingly prevalent, hackers are identifying new tactics that enable them to leverage the tools to disrupt new targets, at-scale. To that effect, enterprise CISOs need to adapt in conjunction with trends — all the while, taking resource availability and changing business needs into consideration.

2. Data-driven decision-making

As a CISO, you’re not only a guardian of data; you’re also a steward of resources. In turn, it’s imperative to communicate the return on investment (ROI) of security initiatives to senior management and stakeholders. Showcase how security measures have not only protected assets, but how they have also contributed to compliance and have positively shaped other aspects of the business.

3. Strategic communication

CISOs must be able to translate technical jargon into language that non-technical stakeholders can grasp. The ability to articulate the utility of security investments, corresponding risks and risks associated with lack of action is critical. It means a higher probability of gaining support and the resources required to truly advance security.

4. Cross-functional partnerships

Strong CISOs work cross-functionally with other departments, including IT, the legal department, and human resources, among others. In so doing, CISOs help ensure that cyber security initiatives are integrated into the fabric of the organization, rather than languishing as isolated efforts. This approach also increases overall business resilience.

5. Continuous learning

Ensure that you’re a member of any and all relevant information security trade associations and training organizations. For instance, the International Society of Forensic Computer Examiners (ISFCE) and The Scientific Working Group on Digital Evidence (SWGDE) can serve as good starting points. See a comprehensive list of cyber security industry associations here.

In addition to formal trade group participation, CISOs should maintain less formal channels for ongoing education purposes. CISOs should pursue industry publications, attend webinars, participate in cyber security conferences, and make connections with other people. For cyber security professionals, staying updated on emerging threats, technologies and regulations is a non-negotiable.

Further information

A savvy CISO not only secures networks and workloads, but also secures their own future. With that in mind, aim for personal growth, work to achieve extraordinary outcomes, and become an inspiring leader who can guide the next generation through effective CISO career path development.

For more CISO career path insights, please see our past coverage. Lastly, discover more timely insights and analyses when you sign up for the cybertalk.org newsletter.

#analyses #approach #Article #artificial #Artificial Intelligence #assets #Business #business resilience #career #career path #chief information security officer #CISO #CISO career path #CISO role #CISO STRATEGY #CISOs #command #communication #compliance #comprehensive #computer #continuous #cyber #cyber security #cyber security conferences #cyber security initiatives #cyber security professionals #Cyber Threats #cybersecurity #data

[nte-backlinks1]

Cutting Costs: How a Digital Document Management System (DMS) Reduces Operating Expenses

Introduction

In today's fast-paced business environment, organizations are continually seeking ways to improve efficiency, streamline operations, and reduce costs. One impactful solution that has gained prominence is the adoption of Digital Document Management Systems (DMS). This article explores how leveraging a DMS can lead to significant reductions in operating expenses while enhancing overall productivity.

Understanding Digital Document Management Systems (DMS)

Definition of DMS: A Digital Document Management System is a software solution that enables organizations to digitize, store, organize, and manage documents electronically, eliminating the need for physical paperwork.

Importance in Cost Reduction: DMS plays a vital role in cost reduction by minimizing paper usage, reducing manual tasks, and improving accessibility to information.

Key Components of a DMS

Automation: DMS automates document workflows, reducing the time and effort required for tasks such as document routing, approval processes, and notifications.

Centralized Storage: By storing documents digitally in a centralized repository, DMS eliminates the costs associated with physical storage, such as filing cabinets and off-site storage facilities.

Document Retrieval: Quick and efficient document retrieval within a DMS saves employee time, leading to increased productivity and reduced labor costs.

Cost-Saving Benefits

Paperless Operations: Transitioning to paperless operations with a DMS reduces expenses related to paper, printing, storage, and document distribution.

Reduced Administrative Burden: Automated workflows and streamlined processes reduce the need for manual intervention, minimizing administrative costs.

Improved Compliance: DMS helps organizations stay compliant with regulations and standards, avoiding costly penalties and legal issues.

Case Studies: Real Cost Savings

Explore case studies of organizations that have successfully implemented DMS solutions and achieved significant cost reductions across various departments.

Best Practices for Cost Optimization

Customization: Tailoring DMS features to specific business needs ensures optimal utilization and cost-effectiveness.

Training and Adoption: Providing comprehensive training and fostering user adoption ensures maximum ROI from DMS investments.

Security Considerations

Addressing security concerns such as data encryption, access controls, and regular audits ensures protection against data breaches and associated financial losses.

Conclusion

In conclusion, a Digital Document Management System (DMS) is a powerful tool for reducing operating costs in modern businesses. By automating workflows, centralizing document storage, and promoting paperless operations, organizations can achieve substantial cost savings while improving efficiency and compliance.

<a href="https://www.nte.ai/Blog/productivity/cutting-costs-how-a-digital-document-management-system-dms-reduces-operating-expenses/?utm_source=backlink&utm_medium=directory+submission&utm_campaign=organic ">Visit nte.ai</a> 

#Cost Reduction #Digital Document Management #Operating Expenses #Efficiency #Paperless Office #Cloud Storage #Automated Processes #Time Savings #Resource Optimization #Eco-Friendly Solutions #Workflow Improvement #Data Security #Remote Access #Compliance #Scalability

[storekar4]

Storekar: Revolutionizing Self-Storage in India

Explore Storekar's innovative self-storage concept in India, offering secure and affordable storage units to maximize your living area. From cherished and valuable items to office documents and fine art, tackle space crunch with nominal monthly rents, end-to-end logistics, and optional packing and pick-up services. Experience clutter-free living in metropolitan cities while ensuring tax compliance. Discover the convenience of Storekar for efficient and secure storage solutions.

#Self-Storage Concept in India #Excess Space #Storage Units #Maximize Living Area #Metropolitan Cities #Monthly Rent #Cherished Items #Valuable Items #Space Crunch #Fine Art #Storing Office Documents #Furniture Storage #Cluttered Space #Tax Compliance #Secure Storage Units #Nominal Monthly Rent #Storekar #Packing Services #Pick-up Services #End-to-End Logistics

[thoughtportal]

This is a developing news story and may be updated as more information is obtained. If you value such information, please support this Substack.

On Dec. 1, a woman immolated herself with a Palestinian flag outside the Israeli consulate in Atlanta.

Now, according to the Atlanta Fire Rescue Department, the woman — referred to in their report as “Jane Doe” — is alive and “in stable condition” at Grady Memorial Hospital, where she has been since the immolation.

After repeated requests for her name, the department stated to this reporter in an email that it “does not disclose the identities of victims”. Repeated inquiries to Grady, which is a public hospital, went unanswered. The hospital houses the Walter L. Ingram Burn Center.

“Jane Doe” is 27.

When asked if they had made any comment to tell the public that she was still alive this entire time, the official at Atlanta Fire Rescue Department said they “shared the last updated with local media via email on 12/21/23. The release stated: ‘The victim remains hospitalized in critical condition. The security guard, who attempted to assist the burn victim, has been released from the hospital.’” Several internet searches on that quote produce no results. This would also indicate that "Jane Doe" went from critical to stable condition without public notice. 

Aaron Bushnell immolated himself at the Israeli embassy in Washington, D.C. on Sunday, explaining “I will no longer be complicit in genocide” and shouting “Free Palestine!” repeatedly as he burned alive. So, his case — unlike many other self-immolations including Gregory Levey, Raymond Moules, Timothy T. Brown, Malachi Ritscher and others — has received some attention. Thus, “Jane Doe” being ignored fits with the usual pattern. Bushnell is the exception — probably because he livestreamed it. See “Ignoring Immolators Lulls the Society to Sleep.”

As Bushnell was burning himself alive, an officer pointed a gun at him, barking orders as if he constituted a threat. A security guard, Michael Harris, sustained injuries working to rescue “Jane Doe” — but there were similarities, where she was actually viewed as a potential threat.

At one point, the police report for “Jane Doe” refers to it as being a case of “arson”.

Much of the media coverage and general discussion of her self-immolation in December focused on if she had done damage. The Atlanta Police Chief said: “We believe this building remains safe, and we do not see any threat here.” The Israeli government released a statement: “It is tragic to see the hate and incitement toward Israel expressed in such a horrific way.”

Police records indicate that they obtained a search warrant and entered an apartment they believed to be associated with “Jane Doe” — initially using a drone:

The drone was able to relay information as to the layout and the belongings inside. After it was deemed "safe" entry was made with bomb technicians. While clearing the apartment no improvised explosive devices were located.

The police report also noted:

During the search a Quran was found in the bedroom along with a [sic] Arabic dictionary and a Hebrew dictionary. The bedroom bookshelf contained books related to fiction and fantasy. A "Drug use for grown ups" book was on the bookshelf as well. Two journals were seized from the bedroom. A thumbdrive was seized from the bedroom as well. A laptop computer was seized from the kitchen counter. A copy of the search warrant was left in the living room of the apartment. The front door [of] the apartment was secured before law enforcement left the premises.

When pressed for more information in compliance with an Open Records Request under Georgia law, Atlanta Fire Rescue Department claimed: “There is an ongoing and active investigation for the incident in question, which is why the only releasable information has been shared via the incident report. Investigative documentation is not available for release until the investigation is closed.”

#article #jane doe #protest #Palestine #war crimes #police violence

[fundtecservicesllp]

#accounting #bookkeeping #crypto business #finance #fund administration #Hedge Fund Administration #Fund Accounting #Investor Services #Net Asset Value (NAV) Calculation #Trade Settlement #Performance Reporting #Compliance Management #Regulatory Reporting #Asset Valuation #Securities Lending #Middle Office Operations #Reconciliation #Custody Services #Hedge Fund Operations #Investor Onboarding #Risk Management #Fund Compliance #Alternative Investments #Financial Reporting #Hedge Fund Technology #User #ChatGPT #Certainly #Real Estate Fund Administration #Property Accounting

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

The Washington Post reported that administration officials informed Congress of the 100 foreign military sales to Israel in a classified briefing. Few details are known of the sales, because keeping each one small meant their contents remained secret, but they are reported to have included precision-guided munitions, small diameter bombs, bunker busters, small arms and other lethal aid. The Arms Export Control Act makes significant exceptions for arms sales to close allies – a limit of $25m for ‘major defense equipment’, defined as big-ticket items that require a lot of research and development, but the limit rises to $100m for other “defense articles” like bombs. “This doesn’t just seem like an attempt to avoid technical compliance with US arms export law, it’s an extremely troubling way to avoid transparency and accountability on a high-profile issue,” Ari Tolany, director of the security assistance monitor at the Centre for International Policy thinktank, said. She added that, in exploiting the loophole, the Biden administration was following the steps of its predecessor. “They’re very much borrowing from the Trump playbook to dodge congressional oversight,” Tolany said. The state department office of the inspector general found that between 2017 and 2019, the Trump administration had made 4,221 below-threshold arms transfers to Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, worth an estimated total of $11.2bn.

#palestine #israel #gaza #joe biden #America

[zvaigzdelasas]

The US is reported to have made more than 100 weapons sales to Israel, including thousands of bombs, since the start of the war in Gaza, but the deliveries escaped congressional oversight because each transaction was under the dollar amount requiring approval.

The Biden administration has [publicly] become increasingly critical of the conduct of Israeli military operations in Gaza and the failure to allow in meaningful amounts of humanitarian aid, with the death toll now over 30,000 and with famine looming. But it has kept up a quiet but substantial flow of munitions to help replace the tens of thousands of bombs Israel has dropped on the tiny coastal strip, making it one of the most intense bombing campaigns in military history.

The Washington Post reported that administration officials informed Congress of the 100 foreign military sales to Israel in a classified briefing. Few details are known of the sales, because keeping each one small meant their contents remained secret, but they are reported to have included precision-guided munitions, small diameter bombs, bunker busters, small arms and other lethal aid.

The White House spokesperson, Karine Jean-Pierre, declined to comment on the report on Wednesday.[...]

“This doesn’t just seem like an attempt to avoid technical compliance with US arms export law, it’s an extremely troubling way to avoid transparency and accountability on a high-profile issue,” Ari Tolany, director of the security assistance monitor at the Centre for International Policy thinktank, said.

She added that, in exploiting the loophole, the Biden administration was following the steps of its predecessor.

“They’re very much borrowing from the Trump playbook to dodge congressional oversight,” Tolany said. The state department office of the inspector general found that between 2017 and 2019, the Trump administration had made 4,221 below-threshold arms transfers to Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, worth an estimated total of $11.2bn.

The under-the-radar deliveries made by the Biden administration to Israel were additional to the three major military sales that were made public since the start of the war: $320m in precision bomb kits in November and 14,000 tank shells costing $106m and $147.5m of fuses and other components needed to make 155mm artillery shells in December. The December deliveries of tank and artillery shells also sidestepped congressional scrutiny because they were made under an emergency authority.[...]

“We continue to support Israel’s campaign to ensure that the attacks of 7 October cannot be repeated. We have provided military assistance to Israel because it is consistent with that goal,” Matthew Miller, the state department spokesperson, said. “We support Israel’s legitimate military campaign consistent with international humanitarian law.”

The state department has been vague about how much effort it is putting into assessing whether Israeli forces are committing war crimes. A process called Civilian Harm Incident Response Guidance (CHIRG) was set up in September last year, before the Gaza war, to make assessments of the use made of US armaments, and Israel’s military operations are under review, but the process is slow and does not commit the administration to taking remedial action.

6 Mar 24

[skzdarlings]

bodyguard: the first guard | part two | chan/reader

masterlist.

(part one of the previous story.)

part one | part two | part three | tba

( read on AO3 )

A sequel to the Bodyguard. Miroh's daughter is assigned a bodyguard of her own. The past is confronted when old friendships and new enemies are pushed to the brink.

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: sequel to the bodyguard (felix/reader). this is a new reader perspective. the previously established story dyanmics: explicit violence, mentions of torture, death. chapter word count: 12,000 words.

-

B E F O R E

Felix is wearing itchy civilian clothes, the jeans distractingly stiff.  Regardless of how many field missions he is assigned, he never gets used to undercover disguises.     

“Look what I found,” Chris says, dropping into the seat beside him. 

Chris looks marginally more at ease in his baggy basketball shorts and baseball cap, passing for a teenage boy on an afternoon train with his friend.  They are in the passenger car outside the first class cabin, a compartment that should contain their mark but presently sits empty. 

“Uh, the target?" Felix asks.  “You know, the thing you just went to find?”

Chris giggles like the whole situation is funny.  Felix is far less amused.  This should have been an easy job: get in, kill the mark, steal back the data he took from Miroh, and get out.  But so far it has been tedious. 

Felix can’t even blame Chris this time.  For some reason, Chris has been more accommodating lately.  Chris is fifteen, almost sixteen, and Felix is twelve.  They have both been active in the field for a couple years. Felix is not sure why Chris has opted for sudden compliance.  He does not necessarily volunteer for jobs but he accepts them without much grudging reluctance.  He will occasionally voice his worser grievances but for the most part he is keeping his head down. 

Maybe it is the result of all those punishing sentences in the Cell.  More than once he has been shoved down there, sometimes alone and sometimes with Miroh’s daughter.  Felix would not want to spend any isolated time with her.  But maybe she is intimidating enough to get through to Chris.

Whatever it is, it is working.  Excluding moments like this when Chris is giggling and distracted and doesn’t seem to care about the job at all. 

“Relax, Felix,” Chris says.  “It’s a train.  There’s only so many places he can be, yeah?”

“Well, there’s one place he’s supposed to be but he isn’t there, is he?” Felix says.

“Lighten up, mate,” Chris says.  “We’re supposed to look normal.  Normal kids have fun.”

Chris dumps a candy bag in Felix’s lap.  Felix looks at it like it’s a bomb.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Felix asks.

Chris opens his own bag and starts eating the candy. 

“That,” he says.  He tosses a piece in the air and catches it in his mouth. When he tries to do it again, Felix snatches it mid-air and throws it on the floor.  This makes Chris laugh.

“He was in the dining car,” Chris relents.  “Four security officers.  Ex-military.  Piece of cake.”

“Why didn’t you say that before?” Felix asks, annoyed.  He starts to stand but Chris yanks him back into his seat. 

“The hell, man?” Chris says.  “You gonna go ventilate the guy while a bunch of civilians are having afternoon tea?  Ya think that might blow our cover?  Just a bit?” 

Felix frowns but he knows Chris is right.  Miroh does not like a public mess.  They will have to wait until the mark returns to the privacy of his cabin.

Felix does not like waiting.  It is a part of a soldier’s training, but his least favourite part by far.  He prefers action.  With the quiet stillness comes fear, doubt.

The latter makes him sweat.  He tries not to think about it.  His life is his mission.  Through Miroh, Felix has contributed good things to the world.  Lately, it just seems like no matter what he does, the world does not stay good. 

The Enemy has been dead for two years.  The new enemy, his idiot heir, has holed up like a dragon guarding his hoard.  He has built defences so high that not even an army like Miroh’s can breach it.  There has been no retaliation, no offensive strike like the old enemy, but these deep roots are almost more sinister.  Felix is starting to think this might be hopeless.  That maybe Miroh is wrong.  That maybe some things cannot be saved. 

Felix crinkles the candy bag in his lap.  He gathers himself and exhales. 

“Fine,” he says.  “How long do you think he will be distracted?  Enough time to get the data?”

“If it’s in there, yeah,” Chris says.  “Might as well check.  He just started eating so we should have some time.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”  

Chris frowns like Felix is inconveniencing him with the job they were sent here to do.  

Felix is not in the mood to argue.  He shoves his candy bag in his back pocket and pushes past Chris.  They make their way down the aisle.  No one lifts their head, the two boys disappearing in their inconspicuous disguises.

They pick the lock to the first class cabin.  Felix opens the door and looks around the room, for a moment a little stupefied by the luxury.  It is all deep mahogany and gold trim.  Their target is an engineer who stole designs from Miroh to sell to the enemy.  The wealth of this cabin exemplifies that corruption, surely. 

Felix tells himself that as he rifles through the luggage.  He finds a laptop and tells Chris to stand guard while he collects the data.  Chris is the better fighter but Felix is better with technology.

The laptop loads.  The home screen is the mark with his family, three smiling, sunny-faced children, all younger than Felix.  It gives him a queasy, uneasy feeling, a feeling that should be long scrubbed out of him by now.

He blames it on the rocking of the train carriage.  Physical sensations can manipulate mental energy. 

He searches through the computer storage for the stolen designs.  Both Miroh and the enemy are chasing government building contracts, tying their businesses irrevocably to political power and pursing relationships therein.  These plans will cinch the deal for whichever party has them.  The engineer who betrayed Miroh masqueraded as a potential recruit before stealing the plans.

There is only one problem; Felix knows how to read metadata and he cannot find anything that was once on Miroh’s servers.  In fact, some of these designs go back years, well before Miroh even considered pursuing these contracts.

“What’s taking so long?” Chris asks, poking his head in the room.  “You’re usually a computer whiz.  Is something wrong?”

“The files aren’t here,” Felix says.  For the fifth or sixth time, he opens what looks like the plans.  Everything except the metadata matches the description.  But that metadata does not lie.      

These files do not belong to Miroh. 

Chris double checks the corridor before joining Felix.  They look at the files together. 

“Isn’t that it?” Chris asks.  “It looks like the right thing.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not,” Felix says, his eyes darting frantically all over the screen.  “Or it should be.  But these, uh, these files aren’t Miroh’s.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this guy stole the plans from Miroh.  But all these files are original.  They were never on Miroh’s servers.”

There is a moment of quiet.  Chris is not famous for reservation so Felix looks at him.  He is embarrassed to find a pitying look on Chris’s face. 

“Felix,” Chris says.  “Come on, man.”

It is not exactly a condescending tone, rife with too much sympathy to be so cruel, but It sounds like Chris is saying, don’t be stupid.

Felix swallows.  He looks down at the plans.  The realization hits him and the words come to his mouth, rising like bile.

“We’re not stealing back the plans,” Felix says.  “We’re just stealing them.  Aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah,” Chris says.  “You didn’t know that?”

“How did you know that?” Felix snaps back, embarrassed and upset and very, deeply confused.   

“It wasn’t exactly a stretch,” Chris says.  “It’s what Miroh does.  It’s what they all do.  You haven’t figured that out yet?  You?” 

Felix, who has done the most assignments.  Felix, who is the most successful agent in the special-ops program.  Felix, who is the best only because the real best refuses to be.

He studies Chris, this older boy who seems so confident he has all the answers.  Felix does not even know all the questions.  He feels that weakness and vulnerability he so hates, the entirely world suddenly unfamiliar enemy terrain. 

“Look, it’s fine,” Chris says.  “Just take the data and we’ll leave.  We’ll tell Miroh the mark got away.  He cares more about the plans anyway.”

“Lie,” Felix says.  “You want us to lie to Miroh?”

“It’s not a lie,” Chris says.  “It’s just protecting the truth.”

Felix stares at him.  Chris, on steadier feet than Felix, sighs and pushes Felix out of the way.  He loads the data onto the external hard drive himself.  He then makes a show of ejecting it and putting it in his pocket.

“Let’s go,” Chris says.

Felix does not get a chance to protest because the door opens.  They have no time to react.  In seconds, they are joined by the mark’s security team. 

Felix knows how to fight.  It is second nature to him.  He should not need to think.

But he does.  He overthinks.  He gets a look at the mark before a bodyguard whisks him away.  Felix thinks of the smiling faces on those children.  He thinks how he is not much older than them.

There is a growing pit of anxiety inside him.  It swallows him whole.

Felix and Chris fight to get away.  Chris could take all these guards on his own but he is trying to avoid severely hurting them.  That distracts Felix too.  Suddenly, Chris’s refusal to fight does not seem like cowardice but instead it is something Felix cannot name. Something he once saw in Miroh but doesn’t anymore. 

Distracted, Felix does not fight like he usually does. 

The first class cabin is a private attachment at the back of the train.  The fight lead onto the outside landing at the end of the car.  A guard dislocates Felix’s shoulder.  The next thing Felix knows, he is tumbling over the railing.  He manages to grip with his good arm, holding all of his body weight to avoid getting snagged and ripped along the train tracks. 

But it won’t save him.  He’s going to die. The realization hits him like any other calculation in a fight, when he measures his odds and deduces his best move.

He has none.  The train is moving too fast and he is at a bad angle to jump.  He has one good arm keeping him alive and no way to fight the approaching guard.  Chris has taken out his own adversaries and should be retreating with the data.  That is what they are trained to do.  The job is more important than the soldier.  In a crisis, you leave the weak behind. 

Felix braces himself to let go, hoping the above-average strength in his body can also withstand slamming into railroad tracks at high speeds.  He suspects even if he does survive, he will be severely injured, abandoned in the middle of nowhere, and dead to the only place he has ever known.

But the guard falls back. Chris knocks him out with sharp efficiency.  He then lays the unconscious man down with almost comical gentleness.

Chris runs up to Felix.  Felix wants to shout at him – everything from go away and finish the job to my shoulder hurts and I need you to save me. 

Chris gives no opportunity for argument or acquiescence.  He shouts, “Hold on!”  Then he swings himself over the railing.  He wraps an arm around Felix and hauls him into his side.  Once secure, he carries them back over the rail and onto the landing. 

“What are you doing?” Felix asks.  He cannot slow the race of his heart, seemingly tethered to the thunder of the train car against the tracks.  He is not sure it will ever slow again.  He thinks he might remember this moment forever.

“What am I doing?” Chris asks.  He laughs for some forsaken reason.  “Just doing this, mate,” he says.

He seizes Felix by his injured shoulder.  Felix winces, having only seconds to brace himself before Chris shoves his dislocated shoulder back into place.   Agony washes over Felix, hot and sharp, the pain rattling him worse than the actual dislocation.

“Sorry,” Chris says.  “Sometimes getting better hurts more for a bit.”

The rest of the mission is a blur to Felix, lost to the throbbing ache in his shoulder and a similar pain taking root inside him.

They make it back to Miroh’s facility.  Chris hands the hard drive off to an upper level agent while Felix sees a medic.  The bag of candy is still in his back pocket.  He sits in the infirmary a long time, just crinkling it between his fingers.  He feels like his world is crashing around him. 

It is days before Felix has an opportunity to see Chris again.  They are in different barracks because of their age difference, the soldiers grouped by year.  When Felix finds Chris in the corridor, Chris is talking to Miroh’s daughter who lives in the barracks too.  They are on their way to their bunks. 

Felix taps Chris on the shoulder.  Chris looks at him, his laughing expression faltering when he sees Felix.  He must see something in him that Felix cannot even recognize in himself. 

Chris turns to Miroh’s daughter and says, “I’ll catch up, yeah?”

She spares Felix a glance and Felix feels an unusually panicked skip in his blood.  It feels like she can see his mental turbulation the way Chris can.  But unlike the rest of them, she has a direct line to Miroh.  She might live and act like a soldier but she is more and always will be.  Felix balks under her scrutiny, worried she will see his doubt and report it right back to Miroh.

Felix is grateful when she leaves.  But when Chris looks at him so expectantly, Felix no longer knows what to say. 

It takes a moment.

“I wouldn’t have done the same for you,” Felix finally says.  It comes out as instinctively as a punch.  “I wouldn’t have saved your life.  I would have just finished the job.”

Chris blinks at him.  He exhales on a laugh.  Then he claps Felix’s good shoulder, a touch of clear camaraderie. 

“I know, Felix,” he says.  “I didn’t do it so you would pay me back.  I didn’t do it because I thought you would do the same.  I did it because it was the right thing to do.” 

Felix thought he was speechless before but now he is truly at a loss.  Even his long engrained instincts fail.  He is out of punches. 

Chris just smiles at his confusion.  With one final nod, he turns and retreats to his bunk. 

Felix stands in the corridor, wounded but bandaged.  He stares at the place where Chris stood, like if he looks long enough then Felix will understand what Chris understands.  That maybe there is a right and wrong outside of what they have been taught.  Maybe things exist outside of this place. 

Maybe some things can be saved. 

-

P R E S E N T   D A Y

“Ah, it’s the classic story,” Changbin says with a sigh.  “A boy and a girl, forced to share a bed.  He is her bodyguard.  She is an heiress.  Should we kiss on the lips?”

You whack him in the gut with a pillow and he erupts with giggles.

Changbin has been your so-called bodyguard for a few weeks now.  It has changed little in your daily routine as your father had assigned Changbin to your department sometime before that.  The special-ops program was written off as an experiment with potential for future development, though that development has long sat arrested.  Bang Chan is in your father’s direct employ while Changbin has been on different teams fulfilling different missions.  When you started taking the lead on projects, he served under your direction. 

It is why your father is not happy.  The bodyguard arrangement was meant to assert his control over you, using an agent as his eyes and hands.  Miroh is not good at relinquishing power, not even to someone like him, or maybe especially to someone like him.  You have always been a good, loyal, obedient soldier and daughter.  Taking over projects and assuming command was inevitable.  Somehow you have wronged him by doing everything right. 

Lately, your work has been meagre clean-up duty.  Miroh has been accruing assets and terrorizing his way into the mess left behind by his late enemy.   It is making Miroh’s paranoia even worse.   He has seen for himself how this powerful house fell apart just because its patriarch died.  The business was left in shambles, underlings squabbling like helpless children.  It was ripe for picking. 

You have been cleaning whatever mess is left behind.  This week you have been cleaning out some old office buildings, primarily sifting through abandoned storage for anything useful that might have been sequestered.  You are spending the night at a nearby safe house, sharing a room with Changbin.  The rest of your team is scattered around the house. 

Seeing as your father has relegated you with menial tasks, you have taken it upon yourself to conduct your own investigations.  Your findings have been on your mind all day.  It is why you do not respond to Changbin’s joking with your usual wit. 

“You’re quiet, murder princess,” Changbin says.  “Should I be worried?”

He drops his mask on the nearby desk then unholsters his gun.   He places it beside yours.  It is a testament to your dynamic that you feel comfortable disarming around each other.  You would certainly never do it around your father.  But Changbin is different.   You are not someone who seeks true friendship but you acknowledge the necessity of teamwork especially in times of crisis.  You do not fully trust Changbin as you do not fully trust anyone, but he is loyal and you reciprocate that dependability.

It is why you beckon him forward.  You are sitting on the bed, feet on the floor.  Changbin pulls up a chair to sit in front of you. 

“The enemy had a multi-level security system,” you say.  “Physical in some capacities, digital in others.  My father has always been more preoccupied with offense than defense, so in that regard they were always a step ahead of us.  That is the part my father is interested in.  That is all he sees.” 

“And what do you see?”  Changbin asks.  His disposition changes with the severity of your words, joviality replaced with equal seriousness. 

“I don’t see anything,” you say.  “That’s the problem.”

He lifts an eyebrow, curious.  You show him the image on your tablet, then swipe to the next one. 

“The security log is missing information,” you say.  “There is no trace of anything unusual transpiring the day they were all killed.  No breach, no shutdown.  Everything is normal until everything is gone. Someone scrubbed every last second of data from the digital system.  Someone who knew the system well enough to not just delete the surface files but to clean the server entirely.” 

“So what are you saying?” Changbin asks.  “You think it was an inside job?”

“I know it wasn’t us,” you reply.  “I know it wasn’t any of the usual players.  This family had enemies in every market.  If it was one of them, you’d think they would have stepped forward to assert themselves by now.  Whoever it was had no interest in taking over company assets.  No interest in even sticking around.  Someone went to great lengths to make the entire thing look ambiguous, to leave everyone asking more questions, to turn our heads in one direction while they disappear in the other.  Someone professional.  Someone technologically capable.  Someone whose only motivation was escape.” 

His jaw is clenched as he stares at the images, but you can see the gears turning in his mind.  When he meets your gaze, you sit forward.

“Changbin,” you say.  “What happened on that mission?”

He does not need specification.  Changbin is usually like you, pragmatic and realistic.  He does not dwell in his emotions and never for so long.  It has been well over a month now but he is still rankled by that warehouse confrontation with Lee Felix. 

“Ah, Yongbok,” Changbin says wistfully.  His eyes are downturned but his thoughts are somewhere else.  “You remember him.  He always needed a fairy tale to believe in.”    

That much is true.  You and Changbin have always been simple soldiers manoeuvring through the morally complicated world around you.  You never had any delusions that Miroh was better than his enemies, simply that one or the other was inevitable.  You knew you could make a bigger impact in the fight than watching from the sidelines. 

Felix was competent but naïve.  He believed in Miroh unequivocally which is why he blind-sided them all with his betrayal.  To this day, you do not know why he joined the enemy, nor why he stayed. 

It makes sense he might have naively devoted himself to a different cause. 

“What fairy tale was that?” you ask.  “The enemy?”

“Chris.”  Changbin looks at you beneath the sweep of his dark bangs.  His smile is wry.  “He asked me about Chris.” 

You blink back at him, surprised by the answer.  After stumbling over any number of replies, you say, “That wasn’t in your initial report.”

“It didn’t seem important,” Changbin says with a shrug.   

“You have a responsibility to report back everything—”

“Yes, commander,” he says dryly.  He slumps in his seat and crosses his arms.  “Does it matter now?  I told him Chris was dead.”

Not a lie, in a way.  Bang Chan was a rebellious subject in his youth, nothing like the merciless soldier he is now.  The inhuman machine was wrought through inhumane treatment.   You were not privy to the grittier details nor have you ever felt an inclination to investigate.  You do not need knowledge of the gruesome torture that was administered.   The results are the same: the rebellious boy died.  He has been gone ever since he was dragged into a basement room for correction. 

“Chris,” you say.  The name sits heavy on your tongue.  “Why would he want to know about Chris?”

“The better question is, why didn’t he want to know about me?” Changbin retorts.  It sounds like a joke, his tone jumping back into comically exaggerated hysterics.  But there is a tension in his shoulders that was not there before.  “You know he didn’t even recognize me?  Ah!  The little brat!  I knew him too!  I wasn’t Bang Chan, no one was … But I was there.  Forgetting me… We’re all that’s left!” 

You tilt your head and study Changbin, as if there are more answers in his face than in his words.  Your gaze drifts to the scar by his eye.   He got hit today, taking a swipe meant for you.  Other adversaries have sent agents to scour the late enemy’s business remains, but they are no match for soldiers of Miroh.  

Changbin joked he was being a good bodyguard.  In truth, he is a good bodyguard.  Your security team is competent but nothing compared to him.  It has made a difference, having someone so reliable at your back, even though it has painted a target on his.  Your father is not happy Changbin outsmarted him.  Changbin jokes about it, as he is wont to do, claiming he can’t wait for a pummelling of his own.  He is probably right.  Miroh has been quiet about the bodyguard assignment but that does not mean he has surrendered.  He is a strategist.  He is patient if it means results. 

Raising children into soldiers is a testament to that patience.  You look at Changbin, arguably the last true survivor other than yourself.

We’re all that’s left.  

You find yourself reaching for him.  It is not like you, but lately everything seems out of character.  You touch his face, drawn to that scar, a scar that should be yours.  You touch it very lightly. 

When you meet his eyes, he is looking at you strangely.  You are not a famously affectionate character, not even with him.  You rip your hand back and shake your head. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, more curious than accusatory. 

“Nothing,” you say.  “I mean – well.”  You scrub a hand over your face.  The weeks have healed the worst of your injuries, but it is still littered with scars, including the ones Changbin gave you. 

His eyes linger there before he sighs and drops his head.  He rubs his face too. 

“We’ll talk later,” you say, suddenly feeling the weight of today, not to mention the accumulative exhaustion of the days before.  “It’s been a long day.”  An understatement.   

Changbin doesn’t argue.  You separate to use the facilities and dress down for rest.  You sleep in sweatpants and a t-shirt, your weapons and shoes not far.  The one bed has plenty of space.  You lay down first, certain that your mind is running too fast to rest, but all that exhaustion catches up to you. 

You wake some time in the middle of the night.  When Changbin gets out of bed, the dip and rise of the mattress stirs you.  You blink awake, watching him amble over to the window.  There is a cushioned seat and he plops down, his arms crossed and his eyes on the stars.

You wonder if you look that young out of combat clothes.  His hair is ruffled and the black t-shirt and pants are comfortably fitted.  His face looks vulnerable and open as he stares into the night. 

“You’re awake too,” he says, not looking at you. 

“Obviously,” you reply.  You push yourself upright.  “You woke me.”

“Sorry,” he says, trying to flash you one of his jovial grins but barely managing. 

“You look tired,” you say. 

“Thanks,” he replies with a laugh. 

“You should go back to sleep.”

“I’m on bodyguard duty,” he jokes, gesturing to you.  “I need to make sure no one murders the murder princess.” 

You give him a dry look that makes him giggle.  Naturally his humour returns at your expense.  He really is the little brother you never had. 

You slide off the bed and join him at the window seat.  You shove and kick like bickering children until you are comfortably settled.  You sit with your legs curled up to your chest, mirror images of each other.  He looks out the window and you look at him. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask.   

“Nothing,” he says, an automatic response.  Then he shakes his head and sighs.  “I don’t know, princess,” he says.  “I don’t think you’ll understand.” 

“What makes you say that?” You cannot help but feel offended even if he is probably right.  You do not have heart-to-hearts, which is what this feels like, a quiet moment carved out of chaos.  If everything was different, you would just be two friends talking about your normal lives. 

Your life is anything but normal. 

“I know you,” he answers, simple and confident.  “I know who you are.  Even when – well, no matter what happens, I guess.”

“Well,” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, “that makes one of us.” 

You swallow your thoughts quickly.  Your innermost turmoil cannot be entrusted with anyone.  It is dangerous to even think such weakness, never mind vocalize it.

Changbin looks at you with a pinch in his brow.  You look away, up at the sky.  You wonder about the vantage from the stars, seeing the bigger picture of your life.  Your pain and sacrifices have to be worth something.  Miroh always said the world was full of shadows, dark spots no regular person could clean.  He was right about that.  He is definitely one of them, but sometimes only darkness can fight darkness.  Or so you thought.  All this business with the enemy has changed things.  That darkness collapsed in on itself like a black hole, taking everything with it. 

“It used to be easier, didn’t it?”  Changbin asks.  “Just doing what you’re told… You can tell yourself it’s not your fault, that it would have happened anyway… Maybe I was believing in fairy tales too.” 

You look at each other.  He just sighs. 

“A part of me feels like I never grew up,” he says.  “I’ve always been what I am.  Maybe it’s time to stop.” 

“That sounds a lot like treason,” you say, realizing how dramatic it sounds after the fact. Miroh is a businessman and this company is not a country.  And yet treasonous is what it feels like, a deep betrayal to the place that raised and shaped you into what you are.  It feels like treachery to even think about abandoning it after everything. 

“Maybe it does,” he says.  He gives you another wry smile, flicking his bangs out of his face.  “Does it matter?  He already wants my beautiful head off its beautiful shoulders.”

“You shouldn’t be saying this to me,” you say.  You’re Miroh’s daughter.  Your relationship with your father might be fraught, but your loyalty is to this house and always has been.  It is the only constant in this tumultuous, violent world. 

“Are you gonna tell on me?” Changbin teases, so unserious on such a deathly serious matter.  He just laughs at your silent but intense stare.  He shakes his head as he looks out the window.  “I don’t worry about that.”

“About what?”

“You telling on me.”

That stops your heart faster than the treason. 

“Why not?” you ask slowly, as if you are wary of a trap about to spring. 

Changbin puts a hand in his hair, shaking out his ruffled bangs.  He looks normal but also not, his strong body so clearly built for violence.    It is why you are shocked when he reaches out, when he touches you like you touched him, an undemanding press of his fingers along a scar.  

Your startled eyes find his.  It splits your focus.  You see Changbin right now, older, stronger.  You also see him younger, thinner, looking at you with concerned eyes as he wipes blood off your brow. 

You blink again and it is just him as he is now. 

He drops his hand. 

“You don’t trust anyone,” he says.  “I know.  Ha!  I really know.”  He swings around, planting his feet on the ground.  He reaches into his pocket then flicks open a pocketknife.

It should make your heart palpitate, a soldier with a weapon in your proximity, especially when you are unarmed.  But there is no rush of blood, no fear, no worry.  You just look at him, seeing all of him, young and old.  You realize there has been more than one constant in your life. 

The knife catches a glint of starlight, a flash of light in the darkness. 

“You and I are the same, aren’t we, murder princess?” he says.   “But also not.  You were raised in the pen with us but it was never the same.  We’re just animals to him.  Raised to the slaughter, ha!  But not you.  One way or another, you’re going to be someone.” 

You watch as he lifts his hand. He curls and uncurls a fist.  He looks down at his palm. 

“When it happens,” Changbin says, “Because it will happen, tomorrow or in a month or a year or whenever Miroh decides… But when I go like the rest of them… When it’s just you and you’re trying to decide who you want to be, not who your father wants you to be…  When you’re trying to remember everything and you can’t decide what was real and what was just training and what was Miroh…” 

He draws a slow slice across his hand, not so deep to be detrimental to his grip, but enough to draw blood in a long, thin line.  You look at this small scar as if it the deepest wound you have ever encountered. 

“Just… remember me,” he says.  “I didn’t bleed because I believe in Miroh.  I’m your soldier, not his.”

You are at a loss for words.  You do not think there are any words, none that you were raised to know.  You can only stare at the little trickle of blood as it runs down his wrist and drips onto the floor. 

You have always felt very alone.  You learned to thrive in that solitude.  Even clinging to the hope of your father’s approval proved exhausting and useless.  You accepted your high promontory was a lonely one.  

Not even that solitude compares to the idea of Changbin gone.  Even if you go weeks without seeing him, he is out there somewhere.  You both keep your heads down, get the job done.   Not the best soldiers, not the worst, but the ones still here. 

You let instinct override your senses for the second time that night.  When he makes to stand, your reflexes snap into action.  You grab him by the arm and snatch the knife.  He has no time to respond, watching as you slice a similar scar on your own palm. 

Your eyes meet.  You are unflinching, more resolute than ever.  You clasp his hand and the blood smears in a signifying pact that needs no other words. 

Only when the moment settles do you say, “You’re not a half-bad bodyguard.”

His laughter comes to him slowly, none of that empty joviality but a genuine burst of it.  His eyes crinkle and his smiles widens and the laughter bubbles out of him. 

“I’m the best bodyguard,” he says.  “And don’t you ever fucking forget it.” 

-

In the light of day, last night’s whirlwind of dramatic emotions feel tempered.  You and Changbin are able to conduct yourselves with a proper degree of soldiership.  Though his words and your promise are in the back of your mind, you put it away for now.

You dress in combat gear and pack your bags for another day of infiltration, investigation, and clean-up.  It is hard to say how easy or difficult the day will be.  If you encounter other agents, the confrontation could complicate things, but sometimes that is better than a long day with no interesting discoveries at all. 

The enemy had properties scattered all over town, some active and some not.  This particular office building is a very old one, seemingly long since abandoned and turned into company storage.  Some of these boxes have not been touched in decades, perhaps remnants of the business as run by the previous generation. 

A thick layer of dust coats the desks and boxes.  At least your masks are put to work, filtering the dusty air as you trail through the building. 

“Yahhh,” Changbin whines, flicking some papers off a desk.  “Today’s going to be boring.” 

“Yup,” you say in accord.  There is no way anyone else will be here.  You doubt there is anything of value to be discovered, but Miroh will harass you if you do not complete his missions as outlined.  With so much tension between you already, it is better to keep your head down and complete the menial tasks, even if it is blatant busy work. 

A few of your officers are sent ahead to sweep the building.  It is not a towering skyscraper but several tall floors nonetheless.  Your subordinates take different floors while you and Changbin take an upper level.  You begin the tedious task of rifling through the abandoned documentation.

“I’m a supersoldier, not a secretary,” Changbin gripes, moving boxes with more force than necessary.

“You’re not a supersoldier,” you say without looking up from your work.  “There’s no such thing.”

“I’m pretty close,” he says, flexing and kissing his bicep. 

“When you start flying, maybe I’ll consider it,” you retort, dryly.

“All right, I’m not a supersoldier,” he says.  He takes off his mask to grin at you.  “But I am super good looking.” 

You take off your own mask to throw at him like a projectile.  He squeals and ducks, then proceeds to cuss you out for the next few minutes while you smile. 

Eventually he takes a seat.  He props his booted feet up on a desk while sorting through some papers with absent-minded perusal. 

“So tell me again about the security log,” Changbin says, evidently growing bored within minutes. 

You can hardly blame him.  It is why you are about to reply, but your thoughts are quickly obliterated.  Gunfire reverberates in the nearby stairwell, followed by shouting and thumping.  Seconds later, your warning pagers are vibrating.  Your officers’ voices come through the communications software.

“Hostile enemy agents breached ground zero,” they say.  “Be ready for confrontation.”

You and Changbin spring into action.  Your masks are unfortunately abandoned, too far to grab in a rush thanks to your shenanigans, but your bags and weapons are within reach.   You swing them on and arm yourselves, racing into the corridor to join the rest of your team. 

It happens very fast.  One moment, this ancient building is nothing more than a dilapidated office from a bygone era, brimming with useless nothings that no one would want.  The next moment, it is overflowing with enemy agents, pouring in one after the other. 

You and Changbin join the other officers in the stairwell.  None of you are prepared for the sight that greets you, the sheer number of adversaries that come streaming into the building at rapid speed.

“What the fuck,” you say, realizing far too late you cannot take this many agents.  You have not had anything near this problem before.   

You look at Changbin, both of you shooting uselessly to stop the encroach of hostiles. 

“We need to retreat,” you say in unison.  You nod at each other. 

The message gets passed along the communicators.  There is no way to escape through the ground floor, the enemy agents chasing you up the stairwell.  You take out your phone to call for back-up, relaying the message directly to Miroh’s team leaders. 

“Can you at all identify the hostiles?” the man asks. 

“Do we know who they are?” you shout at Changbin over the gunfire and chaos. 

“Ah, well they’re not friends!” he replies.

You pause in your ascent to squint down at the approaching horde.  The uniform colours are familiar at a glance, but the dog tags confirm your suspicions.  It locks you in place with shock and confusion, because there is no way that makes any sense. 

These agents belong to the enemy.  The enemy.  It explains the numbers, as only that house could rival Miroh in terms of size and numbers.  But it is not possible he is conducting an offensive attack because he’s dead and his business is in shambles.  There is no one to conduct an operation on his behalf.  It makes no sense. 

Changbin grabs you by the back of the neck, hauling you up the stairs with him. 

“Not the time to stop and smell the flowers, murder princess,” he says. 

“It’s the enemy,” you say.  “I don’t know how or why, but it’s them.”

“We’re sending a back-up team straight to you right now,” Miroh’s leader says. 

You end the call to focus on your surroundings, confusing and chaotic as they are. 

You watch as several of your officers are taken down.  You wince at each reverberation of a gunshot that kills them.  A dozen more faces flash in front of your eyes, every child in that program with you, every enemy you have killed on Miroh’s behalf.  Chris.  Felix.  Changbin, young, small, looking at you with concern.

The reign of fire follows you.  You think you will be hearing gunshots for days. 

“Get her out,” one of your officer’s says into the comms, directed at Changbin.  “Leave through the roof.  We’ll hold them off.”

You trip running up the stairs. 

You never trip, far more coordinated than the average soldier.  But you hear your officer say that and your mind’s eye is overwhelmed with the image of them dying.  Because that is what will happen.  You should not be bothered by it.  You can train a new security team.  They exist for this exact reason. 

But all their faces are flashing in front of your mind.  Your team, the program soldiers, the First Guard.  A thunderous pain rattles down your spine, a cry leaving your lips as you are inundated with visions of death that you suddenly cannot shake. 

“Up, up!” Changbin shouts, hoisting you onto your feet.  “You’re better than this!” 

He’s right.  You are a soldier.  You trained for this.  You were made to fight. 

You push through the pain and thunder.  You get your feet back under you.  You race with Changbin to the roof and trust your team to do what is best. 

You slam and bolt the door behind you.  You look around for something to barricade it but there is nothing.  Changbin meanwhile opens his pack and takes out the rappel line and harness.  You have had little use for it on most of the assignments, but it is standard tactical gear when assigned any investigation or clean-up work, as it can require getting into locked areas through sky access.   You almost left them behind today, knowing the building was abandoned and you would have no difficulty getting in.  You are glad you decided against that. 

“Here,” Changbin says, handing you the harness.  “Put this on.”  He ducks back down to finish securing the line on the edge of the roof. 

“They’re not gonna be able to hold them,” you say, fitting the harness around yourself.  It is second-nature.  You hardly need to think, fastening every buckle as you stare at that closed door.  “They’ll be on us in seconds,” you say.  “They’ll just follow us over the roof on the line.”  You grant your odds are better on the street, that you can endeavour an escape, but that is only if you get that far.  Those enemy agents are going to blast down that door like it’s made of cardboard, then they will be on you. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, your adrenaline propelling every breath.  You do not have time to think twice.  It is why it takes you so long to notice that Changbin has not put on a harness. 

“What are you doing?” you ask when he stands, completely unprepared to rappel down the building.  “We have to go! Put your harness on, idiot!” 

He takes the hook and locks it onto your harness, fastening it with a few skilled flicks of his fingers.  You grab his hand, stopping him. 

He takes a breath and finally meets your eye.  The wind blows his dark bangs across his face, opening up his expression to you.  You can feel the furious scrunch of your own features go lax.  Just like that, your adrenaline dwindles, all that heat turning to an ice cold block in your chest.  It drops to your gut.

“Changbin,” you start. 

“You’re going to go down that line,” he says.  “When you’re at the bottom, I’m going to cut it so they can’t follow you.  It will buy you time to get to the vehicles and get away.”

“Absolutely not,” you say.  “What the fuck are you thinking?  You—”  

“I’m your bodyguard,” he says with that wry smile.  “This is my job.  Let me do it.” 

“No,” you say, struggling against him.  You try to unhook the rappel line but he fights back, not your usual play-fighting but deadly serious.  “You can’t be serious!” you shout.  “We’re the same thing!  If you’re staying and fighting then I’m joining you!”

“We’re not the same thing!” he shouts back.  “You’re a Miroh!  You need to get out of here!”

“You’re right, I am a Miroh!” you say.  “It’s me they want anyway!  You put on the harness!  You can still get out of here!”

“I’m not leaving here without you!”

You want to reply.  The words are right on your lips: I’m not leaving here without you either. 

But before you can say them, all that thunderous pain fractures your vision again.  Your focus splits.  You see Changbin in front of you, dressed in his combat gear with the wind in his hair.  

Then everything changes. 

The sunny sky darkens and the rooftop disappears.  You see the colour grey.  It is all around you, halfway blinding you, filling your lungs so you can hardly breathe.  You blink rapidly, as if that will clear your vision, but it is just more grey and the sound of faraway voices. 

Then you see Changbin again, in his combat gear but years younger.  Just a teenager, all skinny cheeks and sharp angles.  There is no wind in his hair.  There is no wind anywhere.   He is bleeding profusely from a head wound, a stark slash of red in the middle of so much grey.  He says your name.  You hear your own voice but it is a foggy, faraway thing.  You cannot make out what you are saying.  When you look down, you cannot see your body.  You can only see him.  You can only hear him.    

“I’m not leaving here without you,” he says.

Then you are abruptly yanked out of that grey.  You are back on the rooftop in the sunshine. Changbin has his hand planted on your chest, securing the last piece of the harness.  You hear the thud of someone kicking at the bolted door.  You look there frantically.  Changbin does too.  Then you look at each other. 

“I told you I was the best bodyguard ever,” he says, smiling.  

He whips off his glove, revealing his freshly scarred hand.  He grabs your bare hand, the one with the still-tender scar.  He clasps your hands together and looks at you with a desperation you have never seen before, like he is trying to tell you a thousand things with just a glance. 

Then he slowly lets go of your hand. 

“Sorry I can’t fly,” he says. 

He shoves the middle of your chest, hard.  You go tumbling over the edge of the roof just as the enemy agents break the door down. 

There is nothing you can do mid-air.  You can only shout his name, terrified and furious and desperate all at once.  You scream your emotions out until the line comes to an end, a few feet from the ground.  You unclip your harness and drop to the ground smoothly. 

“Can anyone copy?” you speak into your comm, looking up at the roof helplessly.  You watch as an enemy agent swings over and starts to climb down the rope.  You draw your gun and brace yourself.

Then Changbin’s head pops over the edge.  “Copy,” he says, then cuts the line. 

You jump out of the way.  Seconds later, the enemy agent comes careening into the ground.  The pile of rope lands on top of him.

“Fuck,” you say.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.  Changbin!” you shout hysterically into your comms.  “Changbin, can you copy?”

He doesn’t answer.  You run over to the body, searching for something.  You don’t even know what, you just know that this whole situation is wrong. 

It does not take you long.  You roll the body over.  Though his neck is now twisted at a fatal angle, you recognize the agent.  He was standing in your father’s office just a few weeks ago.  His name was Agent Slump.  You shot him through the shoulder. 

These are not enemy agents attacking the house of Miroh, they are your father’s men attacking you.  

You push away from the body, looking frantically up at the roof for any sign of further commotion.  You see nothing from this vantage. 

You run back into the building.  You let adrenaline and instinct carry you up the stairs, taking a few at a time and ignoring the burn in your thighs.  This is Miroh, you keep repeating to yourself.  Your father has done this.  Sending fake enemies after you.  Teaching you yet another lesson.  You said you could handle yourself.  You said your security team could protect you.  Now you are running past their dead bodies, your chest heaving from exertion and emotion.  You find yourself blinking back tears.  You cannot remember the last time you cried. 

“Changbin,” you say into your comm, tripping on another step.  Your voice comes out of the comms on your dead officers.   It echoes in the empty stairwell.  “Changbin, answer me, please,” you say.  “It’s not the enemy.  It’s my father.  It’s Miroh.  Changbin.  Changbin.”

You are halfway up the building when you hear voices below.  You stop to listen.  Your vibrating phone makes you jump. 

“Miss Miroh?” comes a voice, then you see one of your father’s officers at the bottom of the winding stairwell.  This one is not playing a part.  He is in the standard uniform.  There are more officers behind him.  The back-up you called like an idiot. 

You do not go back down.  You drop your phone and race to the roof.

“Get her,” you hear the officer say, then the stairwell is thundering with footsteps as they chase you. 

You no longer know what you are doing.  You do not know where you are going or what you will find.  A part of you is unsurprised when the rooftop is empty, that they got away, that now your father’s men can come in and play hero. 

You look around for Changbin but you cannot find him anywhere.  You try to tell yourself that is a good thing, that it could be worse, that he could be as dead as your security team, just a body on this roof.  You try to tell yourself that he is safe.  It was just Miroh.  They are probably taking Changbin back to the main facilities right now.  Everything will be fine. 

Deep down, you know nothing will be fine.   Everything has changed. 

You hear the officers behind you.  You look around.  The building next door is too far for a regular person to jump, potentially too far for you to jump.  It will be cutting it close, but it is all you have.  At this point, you halfway hope you’ll fall and your father’s men will be forced to report they let you die. 

You shed the top layer of your combat shirt, getting down to the tank top underneath.  You are not sure it will make a difference, but every bit counts.  You back up and count a few seconds, then you take a running leap off the roof.  You get a grip on the next one, though not without a lot of pain.  You grit your teeth and hoist yourself up, ignoring your scraped arms as you take off running.  You open a skylight and drop into the building.  Another empty corridor stretches in front of you. 

You decide your objective it to escape.  You can confront your father after, but right now you need to prove you can handle yourself.  You can get out of here. 

You are certain your father’s men will have the vehicles locked in.  Once you escape this building, you will have to find another—

A window behind you shatters.  You duck and cover your head as glass explodes around you.  You roll to get away, though your limbs are shaky from everything.  When you get to your feet, it is more unsteady than usual. 

You turn around.  You feel that sinking feeling in your gut again.

“Oh my god,” you say.  “Of fucking course it’s you.” 

Bang Chan stands there, cold and ungiving like the living shadow he has become.  Your father likes an agent that can both disappear and intimidate, so Chan somehow feels like a terrifyingly huge figure, looming over you, despite the fact he is not much bigger or taller.  His presence is hulking, as deadly and awful as you remember.  He stares at you with those dark eyes over the half-mask.  He is not breathing especially hard despite the fact he just took a running leap from the opposite building and smashed through a window.  His body is as steady and ungiving as his gaze. 

You do not waste any more breath cursing.  You turn and run. 

You know it is useless but you have to try.  In your head, if you get away, that is a bargaining chip.  You can talk to Miroh, you can show him that you were right, you can have Changbin back, and Changbin will be fine and—

You let out an aggravated cry when Chan grabs you.  You manage to rip away after a few good kicks.  It is amazing what hidden strength lies in adrenaline.  Your heart is pumping even faster than your last fight with him. 

You duck into a stairwell and jump over the railing, landing a couple floors below.  You keep doing that, ignoring the fact you can hear him copying you.  If you look back, it will slow you down.  You keep jumping until you hit the bottom floor. 

You make it a few steps before he grabs you again.  This time he is relentless, a big gloved around wrapped around your throat. 

That adrenaline betrays you.  It is like all your training abandons you as your terror and fury rips through you.  You struggle against him, your motions jerky and frantic and poorly strategized.  He pins you to the wall, using his whole body to lock you in place so you stop kicking him. 

“Let me go,” you say, barely above a whisper.  It makes him tighten his grip on your throat.  You twitch helplessly, gripping his arm uselessly, your face pinched with anger.  

You are swiftly joined by the other officers.  You glare at them, still digging your nails into Chan’s arm.  He does not soften his grip until he is ordered, then he puts you on your feet.  You stumble, your vision covered in black spots as you suck in deep, gasping breaths.  It was not even just the choking, as he did not squeeze hard enough to fully incapacitate you, but as your adrenaline dwindles, your strength does too. 

You trip for the third time.  Someone grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back up.  You are not sure if you are more surprised or terrified to find it is Chan, looking at you with calculating eyes.  You stare back at him, this manifestation of your father’s worst, most inhumane actions.   You are torn between apologizing to him and kicking him again. 

Then another officer grabs you.  You watch with alarm as he puts you in handcuffs.

“What the fuck?” you ask.  “Who’s fucking side are you on?”

“Miroh always, of course,” the officer says.  “This is for your own good.  You are behaving erratically.  Don’t be scared.  We will inform your father that you tried to flee from your own protective officers.  I am certain he will do everything in his power to ensure you cannot put yourself in harm’s way again.” 

You have no more words.  An animalistic cry escapes from your chest, ripping through you.  Even with your hands cuffed behind your back, you dive at the officer and take him down.  You bite down on his ear until you taste the metallic tang of blood.  He screams under you until someone rips you off him.   They hold you by the back of the neck like a poorly behaved puppy. 

The officer gets to his feet.  Blood is pouring down the side of his neck, part of his ear torn.  You spit blood at him.

He raises his hand as if to strike you.  You stand there, chin jutted forward, ready to take it. 

Then you realize it is Chan holding you.  When the officer brings his hand down, Chan moves you.  He steps in between you and catches the officer’s wrist. 

Chan says nothing.  He does not need to say anything.   He looks at the officer and the officer swallows. 

The officer snatches his hand back and straightens his clothes. 

“We’re leaving,” he says.  “Guard, take your charge.” 

You are looking smugly at the officer.  That cockiness dissipates when Chan turns around and looks at you.  It has you immediately shrinking away, then flinching when he grabs your arm.    

They take you to a truck.  It is one of the holding trucks, the kind they use for transporting undesirables.  It is obvious they always intended to lock you in chains.  You have been in metaphorical chains your whole life, and it is only taking this to realize it. 

You try and slow your frantic breathing.  You cannot have a breakdown right now.  It will only make it harder for you when you confront your father.  You are already at a disadvantage, being dragged to him in literal chains.  You will be completely at his mercy, and Miroh does not have mercy. 

You sit on the bench in the back of the prison truck.  You expect to be alone with an officer, giving you time to strategize and think, but then it is Chan climbing into the van and sitting on the bench across from you.  All the hairs on your body stand up.  You cannot concentrate on anything with Bang Chan in close proximity.  He moves like a wild animal, something predatory and swift about him.   When they close and lock the door, your heart skips beats. 

Chan says nothing.  He never says anything.  On the rare occasion you have been in contact, you have not heard a word out of him.  You seldom have anything to do with the missions he runs.  They are above even your paygrade, the worst of Miroh’s work. 

You swallow.  He is not speaking but he is staring.  He does not remove the mask.  You have not seen him without it in years.  He is nothing but a soldier.  An army unto himself. 

Your heart skips another beat.  An idea slowly forms in your mind. 

You are better than average.  Chan is better than you.  You cannot take all these agents on your own, but you could definitely take them with his help.   Of course, that is an entirely hypothetical thought.  It would be absolutely, completely, severely ridiculous to even try.   You are certain the best reaction you will get out of Chan is nothing, just a penetrating stare and silence.  The worst would probably be a snapped neck. 

You curl your hands behind your back.  The scar on your palm stings.  You clench your jaw.

You have nothing else to lose. 

“You’re not a soldier, you know,” you say. 

Just like you suspected, he says nothing.  He just stares at you.  The truck rattles along, jostling you so your handcuffs jingle.  He moves with the sway of the vehicle, hardly affected. 

Your fear turns to frustration.  You heave a breath. 

“Did you hear me?” you ask.  “You’re not a soldier.  You’re a prisoner.  You’re not who you think you are.  Miroh has you under his control, but it’s not real.  The real you is in there somewhere.  And the real you—”  The words come rushing up, slamming into your furiously clenched teeth, “The real you hates Miroh almost as much as me.” 

Chan stares at you.  That is expected.

What is unexpected is the slow tilt of his head.  It makes you shiver, instinctively cowering as he studies you.  His brow slowly quirks, a questioning expression.  You did not know he could make such an expression. 

“Are you… listening to me?” you ask.   

He straightens, but he still looks questioning.  It is enough for all your desperation to rush to the surface.  You fall forward, slamming on your knees in front of him.  You are so scarred and bruised, it hardly matters.  More important is the fact he looks down, as if he is more concerned by it, though you cannot read any more expressions on his stoic face. 

“Chan,” you say.  “Chris.  Whatever you want to be called.  If you’re in there, then listen to me, please.  I know you don’t know me.  We hardly knew each other at all growing up.  But we did grow up together.  Miroh is controlling both of us.  He is going to use us to do things.  He—”  You curl your fist behind you, needing to feel the sting on your palm.  It brings a tear to your eye. 

Chan is looking at you, expressionless again, but it doesn’t matter.  You have to try.

“It’s not just us,” you say.  “This is bigger than you and me.  I have a—I have a friend—my friend, you understand, and I—”

The van comes to a stop.  Chan grabs you by the shoulders and puts you back on your bench.  You screw your eyes shut and shake your head.  You want to scream. 

When you open your eyes, you pour all your anger in your glare.  It is not directed at Chan, though he is the one to catch your gaze and hold it. 

You are still looking at each other when the door is unlocked.  There was only a small window providing light in the cabin of the truck.  A bigger slash of golden light has you wincing. 

Chan is unaffected, still staring at you.  An officer opens the door wider and nods to him. 

“Let’s go, guard,” he says. 

Chan gets up.  You watch as he struts past.  He jumps out of the van and lands smoothly on his feet.

Then he reels back and punches the officer.  It is quick as a snap, the unconscious body hitting the tarmac in a flash.  It makes you jump, the bench rattling underneath you. 

You sit, petrified, confused.  Chan slowly turns.  You blink at him.

He holds out his hand. 

“What?” you say.  It comes out a rasp.  You cannot manage more words.  There is no way your frantic, barely coherent pleading got through to him.  This man has been tortured into compliance.  There is no humanity left in him, no memories, no emotions, no hopes.   He does not feel anything.  He does not understand anything.  He is a weapon.

He is still holding out his hand. 

There is nowhere to go but forward.  You get to your feet and shuffle towards him.  He still does not speak, nor does he look at you with any particular expression.  He just holds out his arms and lifts you out of the van.  When you are on your feet, you stare at each other.

He spins you around.  A gust of breath whooshes out of you.  You panic for half a second, then you realize he is unlocking your handcuffs. 

Never mind.  He is breaking them with his bare hands.  You watch as they hit the ground in a mangled heap.  You turn around slowly, your knees still shaking. 

Chan is calm as the other officers approach.  Someone asks why you are out of your handcuffs. 

Chan looks at you.  You do not know why or how, but he nods. 

You nod back.

You are a soldier.  You trained for this.  You were made to fight.  It is time to remind them of that. 

-

Your father is in his rooftop garden.  Miroh has a few soft hobbies like that, gardening among his favourite.  He sees himself as a cultivator as much as a green thumb, bringing more life into the world despite what life he takes.  It balances for him.  The ends always justifies the means. 

You walk into his garden.  It is obvious he is not expecting anyone, much less you.  He does not have time to hide his surprise.   You just fought your way through all of his security measures, battered and bruised and beaten.  You have not seen yourself, but you are certain your body is a canvas of violence right now. 

“Hello, father,” you say. 

“Go to my office,” he replies without hesitation.  “We will talk there.”

“No,” you say calmly.  “We’ll talk right here.  Right now.” 

He is holding a watering can.  He puts it down without looking and it tips over, splashing everywhere.  Neither of you look at it.  Your eyes are locked on each other.  You both know what he did today.  He is smart enough to work that out. 

“Where are my men?” he asks. 

“Detained,” you answer.  Chan is holding them off somewhere.  You still do not know why or how, but there will be time for that later.  You have to solve one problem at a time. 

You have no real plan.  You are making it up as you.  All you know is that scar on your hand is throbbing.

I’m not leaving here without you. 

You touch your palm, running your finger over the scar.  You do not look away from Miroh as you approach him.  Your legs are weak, your knees shaking, your body in agony, but you take one step after the other.  Given the stricken look on his face, you think this might be more disturbing than if you were healthy. 

Your injuries might have made you equal fighters, but his arm is still in a cast, weakening him too.   He will not win in a one-on-one fight.  He is smart enough to know that too.  It is why he takes a careful, calculating step back. 

“You’re injured,” he says.  “Go to the infirmary.  We can talk after.”

“We can talk now,” you reply, taking another step forward. 

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” he says. 

“Where is he?” you ask. 

You are both speaking calmly, moving slowly.  The watering can is slowly leaking water, gurgling in the background.  Wind moves through the flowers.  You hear birdsong in the sunshine.   Still, in the background, it feels like the world is screaming, the high-pitched whistle of that pot at a boiling point. 

“Who?” your father asks. 

“I’m not playing any more games,” you say.  “I’m not playing dress-up with any little secret agents.  I’m not getting in any rings and playing made-up fights with your silly toy soldiers.  No more lies.  No more games.  No more secrets.  Seo Changbin is my best officer.  I want him back.  Tell me where he is.” 

“His time as a soldier has run its course,” Miroh says.  “His body is more useful than him.  The initial special-ops experiment was a failure.  His genetics might unlock the key to replicating the medicant.  We can try again.  You should want to help me.  You would know better than anyone what worked and what did not.” 

Your exhaustion and emotion nearly gets the better of you.  You almost hurl right in front of him, imagining all the horrifying implications of genetics and keys.  You imagine them taking Changbin apart, piece by piece, experimenting on him like a slab of meat. 

You keep your disgust and horror down.  You take another step forward. 

“Give him back to me,” you say.  “Right now.  I told you already.  I’m not playing any games.” 

“You are deeply unwell,” your father says, his tone changing as he looks at you with more scrutiny.  His whole face seems to darken with the furrow of his brow.  “This is not like you.  Go to the infirmary.” 

“I’m not asking again,” you say.  “Give him back to me.” 

“Why?”

Because you’re my father, should be a good enough answer.  You know it will not work.  You know he does not care.  Miroh hates you because you are his daughter.  Miroh is not scared of anyone because he knows he is the best.  He is scared of himself in you.  You never stood a chance. 

“Because he’s my friend,” you say, because that is the only truth that matters anymore. 

It makes your father laugh unexpectedly.  You do not break. 

“Your friend?” he asks.  “Oh, well, my dear, if he’s your friend, then of course I’ll suspend all my plans and operations!”  He continues to laugh.

“I already told you,” you say.  “I’m not asking again.” 

You fly at him without further warning.  He has a half-second to react, his eyes widening as he side-steps clumsily.  With your mutual injuries, it is not much of a fight.  After a short scuffle, Miroh kicks at your legs, your weakest point, and you double over.  He swings his knee up into your stomach and it makes you fall, curled protectively over yourself.  You plant your forehead on the ground, arms around you, breathing hard. 

“That is how a daughter should be before her father,” he says, looking down at you in your broken little bow. 

You look up as he reaches into the lapel of his coat.  He has kept his gun in the same place for years.  In the same place you always keep yours when you wear a long coat. 

He puts his hand there and finds nothing. 

You uncurl, showing the gun in your hand.  You point it, cock it, and place your finger on the trigger as you stand. 

“If the next words you speak are not his exact location, I’m killing you,” you say. 

“Then kill me,” he says. 

He must know you are running on fumes and a half-baked plan that you did not believe would work.  He is calling your bluff, knowing you like he knows himself.  You will drop the gun and concede.  Miroh wins.  Miroh always wins. 

But you are gripping that gun with your scarred hand.  It sends a twinge of pain shooting up your arm.   You hear Changbin’s voice in your head.

You pull the trigger. 

You are not sure who is more surprised.  You can feel it on your own face, dripping with your sweat and blood.  You lower the gun and watch as Miroh stumbles backwards, frantically patting his chest.   You wonder if he is wearing any protective layers.

It doesn’t matter, in the end.  You spent the last few minutes walking him backwards.  If you couldn’t get the gun, you were going to grab him and threaten him with the edge of the roof. 

When you shoot him, he stumbles.  He falls back.  He goes right over the edge.

You stand there for a long minute.  The watering can has emptied.  The wind has gone still.  The whole world seems to stop.  When you drop the gun, it hits the concrete with a clatter.  It feels very strange that the sun is still shining. 

You walk to the edge of the roof.  You look down.  Your father has loomed over the world from this perch for years, looking over the things he has so meticulously grown. 

He is laying in a broken heap at the bottom of it now. 

You do not know how long you stand there.  The wind begins to blow again.  You feel it on your face. 

Then you hear a voice.  It nearly makes you jump. 

“What now?” it asks. 

You turn around.  Bang Chan is standing there in his dark combat gear, that half-mask still fastened in place. He has finally broken a sweat, his hairline damp, and his chest is moving a little faster with breath.  He is human somewhere under there.  Deep, deep down.   You have no idea what to do with that human anymore than the soldier. 

One problem at a time. 

A few more officers appear on the rooftop.   Chan turns.  You approach him. 

“What now?” you repeat.  You scoop up the discarded gun and point it at the officers.  Chan draws his own and does the same.  You stand side-by-side, arm-to-arm, eyes on your adversaries.  “Right now,” you say, “we fight.” 

You pull the trigger. 

The fight begins. 

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanficiton #bang chan fanfiction #skz x you #stray kids x you

[trafltr]

eren + his dodge charger + scaring his pretty princess

꒰ঌᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ໒꒱ black reader in mind, smut, fingering, mdni

eren drives a yummy black dodge charger and he’s sexy while doing it. he doesn’t even need to text when he’s here to pick you up; you can hear his engine from a mile away and the head splitting bass of rap music playing through his rolled down windows. he smiles when he sees you shushing him from the steps of your porch, hurrying down to his car while holding your purse. “my neighbourhood doesn’t like you ‘ren.” you giggle and grab the spare lip gloss always laying around in the console. but eren won’t let you use it, not before he grabs a hold of your face, makes you look him dead in the eye and kisses off your lip combo, “hello to you too, mama.” and he’s just so carefree while driving, a tattooed hand palming at the staring wheel not even bothering to check the speed number displayed on his dashboard, and the other settling in nicely on your plush thigh. eren has racked up his fair share of speeding tickets too, looks the police officer right in their eyes and they smile at him knowing how it goes—still, he doesn’t care too much for it. don’t let it be nighttime on an empty road either, because before you truly even know it the engine is almost screaming and eren’s pushing well over 100 kilometres an hour. he laughs when you’re hitting his arm, yelling at him to “slow the fuck down!” and gripping onto the side door for your life while being pushed deeper into your seat. but somehow he’s just so calm, giving you a grin that gets you agitated just after securing his grip on your thigh, “just stay put, i won’t crash”. he always makes good on his promise, but you’re annoyed—folding your arms against your chest and tilting your legs away from him when he slows down after what felt like an eternity. he’s not oblivious, knows you’re mad when you ignore him, closing yourself off and sniffling away whatever was gonna come—and it’s only till you’re seconds away from completely bawling that he’s pulling over and asking you to head to the backseat with that sweet voice that makes you do almost anything for him. and your compliance doesn’t go unrewarded—eren has you in a corner of the backseat, head tilting against foggy windows with breathy whimpers escaping your juiced lips with every curl of his fingers dipped into your cunt. “i’m sorry for scaring you baby,” he’ll say taking his hand to the apples of your cheeks to wipe your little tears just so sweetly, it almost makes you forget how his thumb wanders to your clit. “s’okay—i forgive you, jus keep going please.” he can’t help his knowing smile when you achingly rut your hips to clumsily fuck yourself on his fingers, lips meshing into a pout when it just doesn’t hit right. he’ll steadily start at unbuckling the belt slung on his hips, “you just stay put and think about cumming, yeah? lemme do the work.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #aot smut #aot x black reader #snk x reader #snk smut

[metamatar]

October 10, 2022

Amit Kumar had everything going for him. After graduating in engineering and landing a decent job, Amit wanted to settle down with his childhood sweetheart Renu. The couple had known each other since Class IX and dreamt of a life together. The only difficulty was that Renu belonged to a Brahmin family and Amit was a Dalit.

With their homes barely a kilometre apart in Garhwa district of Jharkhand, Renu knew her family would never approve of the match. The couple decided to run away and tie the knot in another State. And thus began their tale of unending harassment and tragedy.

The couple married at a temple in Dehradun and got their marriage registered there. They had just about settled down at Paonta Sahib in Himachal Pradesh when, in a midnight raid, the Uttar Pradesh police took away Renu, claiming that she had been abducted. Amit and Renu have not seen or spoken to each other since that fateful night of August 13, 2021.

Amit’s life has been a quagmire of legal battles and dismissed habeas corpus petitions since then. “I fear my wife is no more,” he told The Hindu.

Activists say such tragic situations can be avoided if couples like Amit and Renu are provided safe houses and special protection by the State governments as mandated by the Supreme Court.

According to data from the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), the number of “honour killings” in the country was 24, 25 and 33 in 2019, 2020 and 2021, respectively. Punjab, Madhya Pradesh and Jharkhand topped the list in 2021 and 2020, while Manipur was on top in 2019.

The government in 2021 informed Parliament that there were 145 “honour killing” incidents in the country between 2017 and 2019.

Interestingly, though the NCRB report attributed only 25 deaths to “honour killings” in 2020, it said there were 27 deaths due to casteism and 1,558 due to “illicit relationship”. Similarly, in 2021, 33 deaths were listed under “honour killings”, but 1,544 and 1,532 under “illicit relationship” and “love affairs”, respectively.

So far, only Delhi, Haryana and Punjab have safe houses for inter-faith and inter-religious couples. Kerala has only announced the setting up of a safe house.

In fact, only 21 States have said that they have complied with the Supreme Court directives, which means that they have asked the police officers concerned of a State for strict compliance, according to Dhanak for Humanity, a non-governmental organisation which works with such couples, helping them solemnise their marriages and providing legal support.

The Supreme Court had in 2018 directed that safe houses be set up in every district as well as a special cell in States for couples facing opposition from families and community.

Gaurav Yadav, an engineer from IIT Chennai, said he was working with survivors of “honour crimes” and couples who are in hiding to petition the government for more safe houses across the country.

“Soon we will form an official grouping and petition the government to follow the Supreme Court directives on safe houses and special cells,” Mr. Yadav said, adding that he had organised a convention regarding the same in Delhi recently.

He said though couples had been demanding that safe houses be set up, the State administrations had looked the other way.

An example is of Ravikant Chandrawanshi and Alisha, who had a harrowing time getting married under the Special Marriage Act in Chhattisgarh.

The inter-faith couple at first decided to elope and marry in Bilaspur. However, a lack of support system and security, including finances, saw them return home in Kawardha within four days.

“As my wife’s family were well to do and politically connected, they kept up the pressure on us. Finally, we had to take legal recourse and approached the High Court asking them to direct the State administration to provide the mandated safe house and police protection.

“However, we were informed that there was no safe house and Alisha had to go to a sakhi centre or a women’s safe house,” Mr. Chandravanshi said.

Though the couple approached the highest of authorities, they were not given any police protection either and had to go into hiding for around six months after their marriage.

According to Asif Iqbal of Dhanak for Humanity, most States send the girl to a Nari Niketan after couples approach them. “It is here that the girl is the most insecure as her family mostly approaches her and puts pressure to go back. Many a time, this also leads to what is known as honour killing of the girl”.

Sanjay Sachadev of Love Commandoes, an organisation which rescues and shelters such couples, said, “The need of the hour is safe houses across the country. In almost every case, the police try and send the girl to a women’s shelter and the boy is left to fend for himself.”

A couple who are staying in a Delhi safe house and did not wish to be identified said that they could not have thought of living together had it not been for the security of the safe house.

Mr. Iqbal, whose organisation has helped many couples seek legal recourse to stay together and get married, said that of the distress calls he receives, the most were from Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra and Rajasthan.

#special marriage act #caste

[jcmarchi]

Key strategies for building cyber resilience in 2024 - CyberTalk

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/key-strategies-for-building-cyber-resilience-in-2024-cybertalk/

Key strategies for building cyber resilience in 2024 - CyberTalk

By Deryck Mitchelson, EMEA Field Chief Information Security Officer, Check Point Software Technologies.

Cyber resilience is more than just a buzzword in the security industry; it is an essential approach to safeguarding digital assets in an era where cyber threats are not a matter of “if” but “when”.

According to Check Point’s 2024 Cyber Security Report, in 2023 we witnessed a 90% increase in victims of ransomware attacks who were publicly extorted for compensation. While cyber security is a critical pathway through which to bypass ransomware, another dimension of the story that merits discussion is the resilience component.

Resilience encompasses the ability of an organization to maintain its core functions ­– not just in the immediate aftermath of attacks, but also during recovery from them. It is about being prepared for the inevitable breach, and recognizing that every system, no matter how robust, has potential vulnerabilities.

Roughly 4 in 10 (39%) of global businesses say they aren’t resilient enough to handle a sophisticated cyber attack. As attack methods evolve and increasingly utilize artificial intelligence, the actual figure indicating lack of preparedness may prove much higher.

Some businesses may think they are well prepared if they have a secure perimeter, but resilience is less about the first line of defence, and more about how well businesses can absorb risk and cope with mounting threats. Fending off one attack does not equal resilience.

The essence of cyber resilience lies in its dual focus. On one hand, it involves fortifying operations against constant attacks, ensuring business continuity under what can be considered “normal” cyber warfare conditions.

On the other, it demands a robust strategy for post-breach scenarios. This means having a plan that goes beyond mere recovery, one that adapts and evolves in response to the incident. Such a strategy acknowledges that the digital landscape is a dynamic battlefield, where threats evolve and so must defences.

The role of leadership in cyber resilience

Leadership plays a pivotal role in shaping an organization’s approach to cyber resilience. It’s not just about having a technically sound cyber security team; it’s about fostering a culture where cyber resilience is ingrained in every decision and action. This starts at the top, with board members and executives who don’t just passively endorse cybersecurity strategies but actively engage with them.

Effective leaders understand that cybersecurity is not a siloed IT issue but a critical business function that impacts every aspect of the organization. They ensure that cyber security discussions are not relegated to the IT department alone but are a regular feature of boardroom conversations.

Moreover, leaders in this field recognize the importance of being proactive rather than reactive. They don’t wait for an incident to occur to appreciate the value of a resilient cybersecurity posture. Instead, they invest in continuous education, staying abreast of emerging threats and adapting their strategies accordingly.

This proactive stance involves not only understanding the technicalities of cyber threats but also appreciating their potential business impact. By doing so, they can make informed decisions about where to allocate resources, how to develop their teams and when to implement new technologies or strategies, ensuring that the organization’s cyber resilience is always a step ahead of potential threats.

Technological and human elements of cyber resilience

When it comes to resilience, technology and human expertise must work in tandem. While advanced technological solutions like AI and machine learning are indispensable in identifying and responding to threats swiftly, the human element remains irreplaceable.

This synergy is crucial; technology can provide the tools and automation necessary for efficient threat detection and response, but it is the human insight that contextualizes and interprets these threats within the unique framework of each organization. Staff training, capacity management and a keen understanding of the organization’s specific risk landscape are as vital as the technology deployed to protect it.

The human aspect also extends to fostering a security-aware culture within the organization. This involves regular training and awareness programmes to ensure that all employees, not just the IT staff, understand the role they play in maintaining cybersecurity.

Overall, it’s about creating an environment where cybersecurity is everyone’s responsibility, and where employees are equipped to recognize and report potential threats. Such an approach not only strengthens the organization’s defence against external threats but also helps in mitigating risks posed by insider threats, whether intentional or accidental.

Frameworks and strategies for enhanced resilience

Adopting comprehensive frameworks and strategies is also essential for building a robust cyber resilience infrastructure. Frameworks like NIST2 and MITRE offer structured approaches, guiding organizations through the complexities of cybersecurity and resilience.

In the US, the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) provides comprehensive guidelines and frameworks for cybersecurity, including the widely recognized NIST Cybersecurity Framework. This framework offers a flexible approach to managing cybersecurity risks, emphasizing the importance of identifying, protecting, detecting, responding, and recovering from cyber incidents.

MITRE, on the other hand, is known for its MITRE ATT&CK framework, a globally accessible knowledge base of adversary tactics and techniques based on real-world observations. This framework is used as a foundation for the development of specific threat models and methodologies in the cybersecurity community, helping organizations to understand and prepare for potential attack scenarios.

Both frameworks help in identifying vulnerabilities, setting priorities and implementing measures that go beyond conventional defence mechanisms. They encourage a holistic view of cybersecurity, encompassing not just technical defences but also aspects like risk management, incident response and recovery strategies.

By aligning with such frameworks, organizations can develop a more nuanced understanding of their cybersecurity position, enabling them to anticipate, withstand, and recover from adverse cyber events more effectively. This strategic alignment ensures that cybersecurity efforts are not just about meeting compliance standards but are tailored to the specific needs and challenges of the organization, thereby enhancing overall resilience.

Future-proofing against emerging cyber threats

Safegaurding against emerging threats is a critical component of cyber resilience. This requires organizations to stay vigilant and adaptive, anticipating not just current threats but also preparing for future challenges.

The rise of sophisticated AI-driven attacks, for instance, necessitates a forward-thinking approach where defence mechanisms are continuously updated and refined. Organizations must also consider the broader geopolitical landscape, which can influence the nature and frequency of cyber threats.

By integrating advanced technologies, continuous learning and strategic planning, organizations can develop a resilience posture that not only addresses today’s threats but is also agile enough to adapt to the unknown challenges of tomorrow.

This proactive approach to cyber security ensures that organizations are not just responding to threats, but are always a step ahead, ready to counteract and mitigate the risks in this dynamic digital era.

This article was originally published by the World Economic Forum and has been reprinted with permission.

#2023 #2024 #agile #ai #amp #approach #Article #artificial #Artificial Intelligence #assets #automation #awareness #board #breach #Building #Business #business continuity #Check Point #Check Point Software #chief information security officer #CISO #Community #compliance #comprehensive #continuous #cyber #cyber attack #cyber security #Cyber Threats #cyber warfare

[swisccfinds]

50 ONE LEVEL CAREERS: Storytelling careers megapack by isy's the snake

Here is yet another career mod pack, but this one has no promotions, you just work and your job level stays at 1. As the title say this mod is best for story telling!

creator's notes-

This mod requires XML Injector by Scumbumbo. You can find it here. Pay attention if you don't already have it for another mod! In that case, you do not need to re-install it. Be sure it is updated for the last patch.

XML Injector is a mod required for some mods to work. So, you install it as any other mod in your Mods folder, no more than one subfolder deep.

This mod has been updated for the version 1.99.305 of the game (second update after Horse Ranch).

It doesn't required any DLC to work. Base game compatible

I've adopted this mod from the amazing ItsKatato who, due to her hiring at EA, couldn't continue to mod. I have made some changes: • I have changes all the pics of the careers — now they all show Sims (please check the credits paragraph at the end to see who was the amazing raccoon who helped me); • I have updated the mod for the Horse Ranch patch; • I have cleared ALL the tuning errors; • Fixed the description of some careers who appeared to be missing.

Now, here we go with the explanation of the mod (originally written by ItsKatato, edited by me):

Katato said: "Have you ever had a story planned out for your sims but you can't find the perfect career for them? Most of the time when I find the career it ends up being a complicated career with a bunch of promotion tasks and extra stuff. Well, I've made a pack of a bunch of single-level careers. All your sim has to do is go to work, that's it. This is perfect for the non-important sims in your life, like the forgotten children of your legacy challenge." In short: those are 50 careers you can use for NPCs Sims or random Sims you do not want to care about. As Amethyst said: "Go to work, make money, leave me alone". Your Sims won't need any task to perform to upgrade and get a promotion, as well as they do not really need an ideal mood to go to work since it won't change their performance. They just go and do their job. And now the list of all careers:

1. Anesthetiologist 2. Cartographer 3. Chiropractor 4. Compliance Officer 5. Data Scientist 6. Dental Hygienist 7. Dentist 8. Diagnostic Medical Sonographer 9. Financial Advisor 10. Financial Manager 11. Genereal Surgeon 12. Genetic Counselor 13. Home Health Aide 14. Information Security Analyst 15. IT Manager 16. Interpreter And Translator 17. Lawyer 18. Marriage And Family Therapist 19. Massage Therapist 20. Mathematician 21. Mechanical Engineer 22. Medical And Health Services Manager 23. Nurse Anesthetist 24. Nurse Practitioner 25. Obstetrician And Gynecologist 26. Occupational Therapist 27. Operations Reasearch Analyst 28. Optometrist 29. Oral And Maxillofacial Surgeon 30. Orthodontist 31. Orthotist And Prosthetist 32. Paralegal 33. Pediatrician 34. Personal Care Aide 35. Phlebotomist 36. Physical Therapist 37. Physical Therapist Assistant 38. Physician 39. Physician Assistant 40. Pilot 41. Podiatrist 42. Prosthodontist 43. Psychiatrist 44. Registered Nurse 45. Respiratory Therapist 46. Software Developer 47. Speech-Language Pathologist 48. Statician 49. Substance Abuse And Behavioral Disorder Counselor 50. Veterinarian 51. Web Developer 52. Wind Turbine Technician 

lets give some of our love and support to isy!

download

#sims 4 cc #sims 4 download #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 mods #the sims 4 mods #the sims 4 custom content #ts4 #sims 4 careers #sims 4 career #ts4 careers #ts4 career #s4 career #s4 cc #s4 download #s4cc #s4ccfinds #s4 custom content #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 story #the sims 4 download #ts4 mods #the sims 4 cc #ts4 custom content #thesims4 #sims4

[risuola]

V — A GOLDEN CAGE — F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

Visiting your father went just like you expected it to go. Horribly wrong but you wanted to push through it and go back to your home in Konoha. Things unfortunately got out of hand and you were forced to summon Tobirama to save you.

cw: physical abuse, toxic parent behavior, sexual abuse mentioned just briefly (nothing of that nature is happening but it's a warning nonetheless), forced drug intake, heavy misogyny, reader discretion is advised — 3,1k words

SERIES MASTERLIST

With an ANBU officer that Tobirama assigned to assist your trip, you reached the village that was your homeland. A place where you grew up welcomed you with fake smiles as you entered the palace. You used to live there, but no warmth or domesticity was waiting for you inside the familiar interiors. Once you entered, you received a long, harsh and emotionless hug from your father, just so the appearances were kept in the eyes of your security member, but with Konoha's shinobi departure, all of the artificially gentle gestures departed as well, leaving you with cold aura of your strict parent. Oh, how many memories it brought to the front of your mind.

After four hours of travel, you were given some time to rest and you took it, preparing yourself for what's to come. Evening was still early and you expected a meeting with your father that day before the madness of the next one starts. The talk was plain, it was nothing, just as if he wasn't talking to his daughter but to a foreign person and you'd lie if you said it hurt you. You were used to similar treatment from him, there was never any parental love he showed. He never acted like your father, more so like your owner, which in a sense he was. Every decision regarding you had to go through him, had to get his approval before it came to life; he decided what you’re going to wear, what and how much you’re going to eat and with whom you’re going to spend your time. He was strict and demanding nothing but compliance, feeding you fear and uneasiness from the youngest age. He did everything to burn down your character, to change you into a maid, a housewife, into someone who’s doing as is told. You were too strong mentally to go down this road and you learned how to play his game. Or so you thought, because you felt truly free only when you married Tobirama and left the village.

With a false wish to rest well, you spent the night hyperaware of the surroundings. Your old room brought memories you were not too fond of; the fake light aura that surrounded you, with all the soft and plush fabrics and luxurious ornaments made you feel sickly. You were often trapped in here, as your father explained it by protection and keeping you pure. A golden cage, an exclusive prison. He kept you out of the world, giving you no choice but to sneak out on your own to train or see people. If not for that, you'd probably go insane very quickly and as the time had passed, you were impressed with yourself that you remained the clarity of mind. You went through all of it, the many years of mental, violent training that were often close to break you down. Strict rules of your palace made you depressed in every meaning of this word; at one point you were too afraid to speak, you were frightened to look anyone in the eyes – even if it was just a servant of yours. Your life wasn't easy. The princess title covered all of it up, dressing your misery in fairy tale stories and glittering the dark path you had to walk through.

The next day began just as you expected. A breakfast, beautifully spread on the large, long table where you sat down facing your father, focusing on the food rather than his demanding gaze that seemed to pierce right through your soul. He was displeased by your sight; you could tell that right away. Disgusted even.

"There are stories that reach our ears," he began; the annoyance apparent in his voice even though you could tell he was trying to sound calm. The tension in the air was thick and heavy, palpable enough to make you feel suffocated.

"Regarding...?”

"Regarding your behavior in Konoha. Rumors have it, you're serving the society of the village. You're quite liked in here, aren't you?" The question was rhetorical and during the speech, there was a few accents put onto certain words with the most apparent note of disgust that surrounded the word serving.

"That's a part of my duty, as of a wife to—"

"Cut the bullshit. As a wife, you should be at Senju's feet. Do you not know how a marriage should look like?" Your father got up, slamming his fist on the table, knocking down glasses as your food bounced on the porcelain plate. That’s about it when it came to the breakfast. "I have given you up believing you're well prepared, but I see I was wrong. Can you imagine my disappointment, my shame when my people talk about your treatment to your husband?!"

"With all due respect, but Konoha has different vision on marriage and I fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities. My husband is—"

"Shut your mouth when I'm talking," he groaned, cutting you off yet again and you sighed, putting down the chopsticks. Peaceful breakfast wasn't what you’ve expected anyway. "You, acting all lovey-dovey with that man is an insult to our tradition, to our people. It's been almost a year and I was patient, hoping you'd realize your place, but as of now I don't see any other choice, than to put you in it myself."

"What does it even mean? Your superiority over me ended the day I was married off. Now the only person that can give me orders is Tobirama, not you, and he do not wish me to serve him."

"Spare your words until I lose control."

You shut up, wondering if it’s worth it to just leave the palace and get back to Konoha earlier. It would for sure make a fuss but if you were careful enough, you might not interrupt the negotiations that were taking place. Without a warning, two women entered the room, cutting your thoughts short as they grabbed you by the shoulders and dragged outside with force. You were aware of a place you were heading to. Little, closed house-like building, but small enough to fit one room and a small bathroom. It was like a basement even though it wasn’t underneath the ground. It was dark, with no windows. A prison your parent used to put you in to 'teach you a lesson'.

Your father wanted to break you, to plant the seed of fear in you that would bloom into your compliance to Tobirama later. That would push you down to the ground and make you stay at that level, so the Senju can tower above you. A wife that’s perfect, according to the misogynistic tradition of your land, is the one who’s humble and obedient, who doesn’t speak up and is afraid to do so. Woman’s role in the marriage was objectified – a woman was meant to speak when asked and be silent when she’s not, she was meant to keep her head low, mouth shut and legs open to fulfill the desires of her husband. To give birth to as many heirs as the man pleased to have. It looked like this for decades in your village and you happened to disagree with that from the youngest age, what saved you from an early marriage. You couldn’t be more thankful for the agreement between Yu and Konoha, but your father was far from happy.

When the doors closed, trapping you inside with two men you had seen for the first time, the terror began but you had no intentions of giving in. Not this time. When you were younger, you just took it – too afraid to show any fighting skills that you were learning in secret from the world, but now it didn’t matter. You fought the physical abuse for a day, but your body was weakened and you assumed it was something you were sneakily given during breakfast. It was everything but a surprise to you. Your father was known for his toxic behavior, as he would often poison you to weaken your reactions, and then ‘show you your place’. You should have known better to not eat or drink anything he’s giving you.

The nightmarish treatment of kicks and punches was something your body remembered but weaned from. It's been almost a year since you were beaten for the last time, as Tobirama kept you safe and warm in his embrace. The men didn't care about the marks that were appearing on your body. Your father will sooner or later inject you another one of his mixtures that make bruises invisible to the eye, but leaving the pain of them. It was a brutal ritual he often used to place you in order. Something you hated more than anything but had to learn to live with. Minozuki wasn't stupid, he knew he cannot leave any signs of abuse on you to prevent your husband from knowing as he suspected he wouldn’t be as grateful as he should be. But it was a service, your father thought – it was a favor he was doing towards the young Senju, because clearly he wasn’t able to discipline you himself.

The torture took two days, although for you it felt like eternity. There was little to no perception of time in a space with no daylight and no clocks. Every bone, every muscle hurt – even your hair and nails burned with pain. It'll go away, you told yourself, repeating it like a spell to push through it. Two days of the hell had already passed, meaning you’ll go home soon. Conveniently, you were expected to stay as long as the negotiations in Konoha are taking place, and there even was a delegation from your village, probably to make sure your husband is not leaving. Minozuki thought of everything – it wasn’t a coincidence that he invited you now. He knew damn well you’ll come alone.

“How’s my daughter doing?” Your father’s voice reached your ears from outside, where he met with your abusers to get reports on the progress. The door stayed open, but even if you’d want, you couldn’t escape now. Not when you were that weak, not when they were standing right behind the wooden entrance and especially not in your current state. You could taste nothing but blood, it coated your mouth and half of your face. You were coughing it out for god knows how long, something inside of you had to be damaged. Something had to be fractured enough to release a constant flow of red through your lips. For the nth time you felt like you’re gonna pass out, an exhaustion taking the best of you, the world spinning more and more right before your eyes.

“She’s stubborn,” one of the men responded, and the second agreed. Their voices were faintly hearable for you now, barely coming on top of the intense ringing in your ears. “At this rate she’ll have her bones broken but learn nothing.”

“So, change the tactic. Use every mean.”

“Yes sir.”

The change of tactic caught you off guard. Never before your father had a reason to use any kind of sexual abuse towards you, hence you couldn’t be prepared for that at all and at first, you couldn’t even tell what was happening. You were once again forced to swallow down a liquid in which another dose of drugs was dissolved. At this point, you were close to throwing it up as it forced down the blood back to your stomach. When it began taking over your body, you felt like you’re levitating. You were able to move, barely, but your limbs felt numb. You had no control over them, but your mind stayed intact. Aware of what was happening, you felt like you’re standing next to yourself, observing with no power to react. That out of body experience frightened you to the core, you never felt like this before.

And then, you were reminded of a mark on your body, that Tobirama left before you departed. It was one of those he used to teleport himself between places. He wanted to make sure you’re safe during the travel or your stay in the palace. He was well aware of how scared you were going there, even though you tried not to show it, you did your best to not worry him with your family issues. But he knew better, he made you promise you’ll use it if something’s wrong, so he can appear instantly and protect you, but you swore to yourself you won’t bother him. His job in Konoha was so important, you couldn’t bring him in just because you were kicked in the gut but when it got to you what was happening now, what your father meant by saying every mean, you got truly scared.

The men grabbed you, began tugging and jerking your body, as they were fighting with every last bit of power you had left to push them away. The intention was clear as they were pulling your clothes, ripping the seams, cutting the straps, revealing more and more of your skin, squeezing and slapping your body, groping everywhere. The feeling of disgust began overflowing your mind. Was that really what your own father allowed to happen? Before marrying you off he put so much effort into keeping you pure and now he was just okay with you being used in this dingy, dark cage? You couldn’t push them away; your body was too weak, your hands had no strength as they met the much larger bodies of your abusers. Biting your thumb open, you smeared the blood over the marking on your forearm, focusing every last bit of chakra that you had in there, alarming your husband.

In the middle of talking, Tobirama fell quiet. The feeling of your energy calling for him paralyzed him for a split second as he knew you wouldn’t use his marker if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. He knew you all too well to know you were too stubborn to call for him for as long as you can withstand whatever was happening and the thought of what pushed you to do so froze the blood in his veins. What on earth was happening in your village?!

“Tobirama?” Hashirama addressed the silence, looking up to his brother, immediately noticing something was wrong. Just as if Yugakure delegation noticed as well, they began asking more questions, aiming towards the younger Senju to distract him from the feeling but the hokage got up, dismissing his brother with a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s take a break.” Hashirama’s authoritative voice wasn’t up to any discussion and nobody dared to say a word.

You fought with all of your might, forcing yourself through the drugs, fueling your muscles with remains of your chakra just to move them, to push those men away from you. With a whine, you fell down to the ground, after being striked in the head but your body didn’t reach the floor. Appearing suddenly, a strong arm wrapped itself around you, situating you under the wall gently. Seeing the familiar face in front of you, you exhaled in relief. Tears rolled down your cheeks, the marking worked after all and you knew damn well that Tobirama would come and help you eventually, but to see how fast he reacted warmed your heart all over again.

Senju was enraged by the sight he was met with. Your body, partially undressed was covered in purple signs of abuse, in the red patterns of blood that was gushing out of your mouth and two men in front of you were trying to take advantage of the half-conscious state you were in. He had no idea why were you so barely present, but it wouldn’t surprise him if it was some kind of drug coursing through your system. Your father was nowhere to be found and the more he looked around, the more dried blood caught his attention. Furrowing his brows, he groaned in anger, easily beating down two offenders that dared to lay a finger on his wife and he wished to give them a bigger lesson, to make them suffer longer, to beat them harder, but all of that could wait. Now you were the top priority for him. Now he had to take you home, to safety.

“Hey,” he said, forcing himself to sound calmer than he was, as he squatted in front of you, swooping your body from the floor with such gentleness that you barely felt any pain.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” you muttered, leaning into the familiar scent of his neck. Even though you were barely registering the world around you, fighting with your own perception, you would recognize him everywhere. In a matter of second you were back in Konoha, in your own bathroom and the light of it made you squint and whine against Tobirama’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and you’ll rest, alright?” He spoke softly and his deep, caring voice soothed your nerves.

“You can go back to your duties, I can manage…” In hopes to reassure your husband, you tried to stand on your legs but as soon as your weight landed on them, you began to fall. It’s only thanks to the protective embrace around you that you didn’t reach the tiles.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to. Please accept my help and don’t worry about the negotiations. The most important parts of it are already sealed, my brother can deal with the rest alone.”

With a nod, you draped your heavy arms around his shoulders, melting into his large body, into the safety of him. Everything hurt you, the pain felt unbearable just a second ago, but such close contact with Tobirama made It worth pushing through.

“I love you more than my own life, Tobirama,” you whispered against his chest, pressing your lips right above where his heartbeat echoes. “I’m so grateful that you came, that you saved me before they—”

“Ssh, it’s okay, you are now safe with me,” he hushed you gently. He sounded calm, his tone was warm and he showed nothing but love and patience to you, but inside of him there was a storm raging. Not now, he reminded himself in his thoughts. His fingers were stroking your hair whilst the other hand kept a hold around your waist, keeping you up and standing. He could feel how weak you were, how little chakra was circling in your system – an effect of you using it constantly to fight back the assault. Tobirama prioritized you above everything else right now, but in his head, he already planned the visit to your homeland.

Those people, your father… they needed to learn why they don’t want any problems with him.

» NEXT PART

TAGLIST: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv - I tagged everyone who asked for continuation, please let me know if you want to be tagged for the future parts loves! (and don't be shy to tell me if you don't want to be tagged as well!)

#naruto #naruto imagines #shippuden imagines #naruto shippuden #shippuden #tobirama #tobirama senju #senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama imagines #tobirama fluff #tobirama smut #tobirama fanfic #tobirama fanfiction #tobirama x you #senju x reader #senju x you #senju fanfiction #tobirama imagine #tobirama arranged marriage #tobirama senju x reader #naruto x reader #konoha founders #senju tobirama #senju imagines #tobirama angst #naruto angst #naruto fluff #senju fluff #tobirama x y/n

[bogunicorn]

Inquisition companion coffee orders and how they'd be at a coffee shop, based on the less than a year I spent working at fake starbucks many years ago. In a different order than my last post, just for the hell of it. Some of these are based on real customers that I still remember. I wrote this at 5am when I was high and unable to sleep so keep that in mind if you think I'm wrong. I'm not wrong but you should keep it in mind. H'kay let's go

Josephine: large americano, extra shots, cream and sugar and sometimes a shot of a seasonal flavor if it's a special day. She comes in twice a day, she tips, and the baristas are all trying to figure out how she hasn't had a heart attack yet from having that much caffeine every day. Staff knows her name and likes her.

Dorian: Iced white chocolate mocha. It's the only thing he gets. He will not drink it hot. He will not try a different flavor. He shows up in the morning and orders two, one with ice and one without, and be puts the one without ice in the fridge to drink later. Staff knows him on sight, but they make him state his order every day as if they don't because he doesn't tip.

Varric: regular brewed coffee, but he likes to hang out at the cafe, work on his books, meet with people, etc. He's really nice, he over tips, and sometimes the staff "forgets" to charge him for a refill. He also orders whatever food they're running out of because he figures that means it's popular and therefore good.

Solas: Decaf brewed coffee, and then he puts a disgusting amount of sugar and cream into it. He actually hates coffee and refuses to drink caffeine, but he doesn't come for the drinks, he comes to people watch and do life drawings. He needs the coffee so he has a purchase that can reasonably last him hours before he's expected to spend more money, and hot coffee won't leave condensation on the table and get his paper wet. Staff knows him and their advice to each other is not to ask him questions because he will answer you, at length, in great detail, if it's something he knows about. But he occasionally just puts a couple 20s in the tip jar, so they've decided he's cool but kind of a weird nerd.

Blackwall: Seems like he'd be a "just a NORMAL COFFEE" kind of guy, but he's actually one of the staff's favorite customers. He's some kind of blue collar worker who comes in on the way to work and on the way home, and he gets the same thing every day: regular hot latte in the morning, decaf hot latte at night. He's always there at rush times, but he's polite and he tips even when service is crowded and messy. The baristas start making his coffee when we walks in the door if they notice him, so he rarely has to wait, but he seems flattered and grateful every time.

Sera: Her order is different every time she comes in and it's always something all fucked up and weird. Half the time she just shows them a screenshot on her phone of some complicated meme recipe from TikTok, or she wants whatever technicolor monstrosity frappuccino that's on special. The staff dreads her order, but she also has a habit of getting belligerent with customers who give the staff a hard time, so they're pretty sure Sera is like a part time security guard who demands meme drinks in payment. They're allowed to complain about her if they want, but they'll malicious compliance the fuck out or anyone else who does.

Iron Bull: He doesn't have a single go-to order, but he's nice and likes to ask the staff for recommendations if it's not too busy and lets them test new recipes on him. He always tries the seasonal flavors at least once. Sometimes he comes in with a group of friends who look like trouble on first glance, but Bull pays for them all at once, doesn't let them order blended drinks, and always makes sure they clean up after themselves, so it's okay.

Cullen: Just a NORMAL COFFEE. He's totally overwhelmed by the amount of choices, but this is the closest place to his office and getting out to buy coffee is his excuse to take a break and stretch his legs. The staff knows him and actually responds to "just a normal coffew" because it's too much trouble to interrogate him about which roast or what size cup, because last time he said, "I don't know, something dark? Whatever has the most caffeine in just a regular size to go cup." He's been drinking a medium blonde roast for years and still doesn't know what blonde roast is, save that he thinks he doesn't like it.

Leliana: Two shots of espresso over ice. Leliana had shit to do and she needs that caffeine in her body as fast as possible. The ice is there to keep her from burning her mouth off. She drinks it like it's whiskey and throws out her cup without even breaking stride.

Cole: Year round pumpkin spiced latte. If they're out of the syrup, he gets the cheapest thing on the menu, no add ins, and then doesn't drink it. He rarely comes in on his own; Cole is usually there with a friend and is aware that it's rude to be there without buying, but the pumpkin spice is the only thing he actually likes. He's polite but he creeps out the other customers with his thousand yard stare.

Cassandra: London Fog, but she never remembers what it's called. She drinks it because she wasn't sure and someone recommended it, but the name just will not stick in her head. She orders it as "hot Earl Grey tea with milk", she listens every time they say "okay, so a London Fog", but by the next time she's in she's forgotten. It's not really a big deal, though, she seems pretty overworked. At this point the staff would be sad if she did remember, honestly.

Vivienne: "The Usual". Literally only one barista knows her order, because it's some customized thing that that specific barista made for her once ages ago. Viv knows what's it in but she will not tell you because she doesn't trust anyone but that one barista to make it. If her regular person isn't around, she just gets a hot latte with sugar free vanilla. That one barista also won't tell you what's in it, but that's because Vivienne tips them directly instead of in the jar and they don't want to ruin a good thing.

**also if you like this and think "i'm gonna give this fine person a follow because they're so funny about dragon age", i made a new DA sideblog at @skyholdstarbucks where i'd post anything similar to this in the future

#bog post #i need a dedicated tag for these if I'm gonna keep doing them #dragon age #dai #cullen rutherford #leliana #josephine montilyet #cassandra pentaghast #blackwall #the iron bull #varric tethras #sera #cole #solas #vivienne de fer #dorian pavus #da headcanons

[thesimblrofficedirectory]

Welcome to The Simblr Office Directory

This blog is an archive of the submissions for the office-centric OC prompt posted by the light of Simblr, @kashisun.

Here you can browse all the amazing creations submitted by your fellow simblrs. Feel free to scroll to your delight or click one of the links under the cut to see who's on roster under (or over) a particular bureau or delegation.

Want to be added to the directory or confirm that you've been queued? Just include a link to your post in an ask off anon and it will be queued within 48 hours. Until we get through the backlog and can queue at a more leisurely pace, all ask submissions will receive a confirmation. You can always mention us, but we won't be able to provided confirmation for that method.

Leaving the company? If you'd like your post removed, just include a link to the post in an ask off anon and it will be removed. Sideblogs may require additional verification. Please allow, at most, 48 hours for the request to be honored. Removal requests will not be confirmed, only acted upon.

Every company's hierarchy is a little different. Designations for this directory are based on some of the companies I've worked for, but especially on the multi-media marketing company I work for now.

Bureaus and Their Delegations

Delegations with an * currently have low or no headcount (posted and queued). Excludes leadership.

Bureau of Client Engagement

Leadership

Billing*

Escalations*

Product Support*

Quality Assurance*

Sales*

Bureau of Compliance (Bureau-specific Internal Affairs and Auditing)

Leadership

Client Engagement*

Facilities*

Finance*

Human Resources*

Information and Technology*

Legal (General)

Legal (Leadership)

Marketing*

Bureau of Facilities

Leadership

Catering*

Environmental (Janitorial, HVAC, and Plumbing)*

Mechanical (Electrical, Elevators, Equipment Maintenance)*

Premise* (Grounds Maintenance and Real Estate)

Purchasing* (From pushpins to pallet jacks)

Security

Warehousing* (Shipping, Receiving, Mail room, and Inventory)

Bureau of Finance

Leadership

Accounting

Asset Management*

Investments*

Travel and Accommodations*

Vendor Relations*

Bureau of Human Resources

Leadership

Career Development (Internships and Internal Role Transitions)

Dependent Care*

Employee Activities Committee (Members are volunteers)

Employee Benefits*

Floating Delegates (Administration) (For profiles that list a nondescript secretary/admin/receptionist/assistant role)

Floating Delegates (General) (For profiles that do not list a position)

Floating Delegates (Leadership) (For profiles that list a nondescript managerial role)

Health Services*

Payroll*

Recruiting*

Training*

Union Relations*

Bureau of Information & Technology

Leadership

Data Security*

Infrastructure*

Public Relations

Research and Development*

Systems and Devices*

Telecommunications*

Bureau of Marketing

Leadership

Copy

Design

Planning and Implementation*

Board of Directors

Chief Officers

CEO - Chief Executive Officer/President

COO - Chief Operations Officer/Vice President

CCO - Chief Compliance Officer/Vice President

CFO - Chief Finance Officer/Vice President

CITO - Chief Information and Technology Officer/Vice President

CMO - Chief Marketing Officer/Vice President

Executive Administration* (Admins that report to chief officers)

#new simblr #the simblr office #thesimblroffice #pinned