Tommy led Agent 47 past the walls.
Jackson opened up before them — rustic homes, fortified watchtowers, solar panels, and narrow dirt paths packed with snow. Despite its scars, the town had life. Real life. Laughter from kids. The smell of stew in the air. People stared as the outsider passed — a ghost in a suit.
Tommy's voice was tight as they walked.
"Look, don't take it personal — it's just, around here, trust's hard to come by. Especially with someone dressed like a Wall Street hitman in the middle of the f***in' apocalypse."
"No offense taken," 47 replied, walking in silent rhythm.
They reached a log cabin on the edge of a hill. Lights inside.
Tommy gave one last look.
"Wait here."
He stepped in.
A few muffled words.
Then the door opened again.
Joel stepped out.
Older now. Weathered. Grey in the beard. A limp in one leg. But the eyes — still sharp. Still haunted.
Behind him, standing by the table, was Ellie. Her face tense, arms crossed, a black tattoo twisting down her forearm. She watched 47 like someone watching a loaded gun with legs.
"You lookin' for me?" Joel asked.
47 nodded. "Joel Miller."
Joel's brow furrowed. "You don't look like Fireflies. Or FEDRA. Or WLF. What are you?"
"A professional."
Joel exchanged a glance with Ellie. "That supposed to mean something?"
"To the right people," 47 said.
Then it happened.
[NEXUS SYSTEM – QUEST ACTIVATION TRIGGERED]
A sound — faint, synthetic. A cold ping in the back of 47's mind.
[Main Quest: Prevent Joel's Death – Eliminate Threat]
Target(s): Abby Anderson and Affiliated Kill SquadTime Remaining: 23:59:59Location: Jackson – Interior Threat ImminentReward: ???Penalty: Death
[WARNING: HIGH-THREAT LEVEL ENEMY GROUP. COORDINATED. VENGEFUL. TRAINED.]
The clock began ticking in the corner of his vision — red, brutal, final.
47 kept his face calm.
Joel noticed the shift in posture. Not fear. Something sharper. Calculating.
"You alright?" Joel asked.
"I need to know who your enemies are."
Ellie snorted. "Take a number."
Joel held up a hand. "What're you talking about?"
47's voice dropped to a cold monotone. "You're being hunted. A team. Trained. They'll be here tomorrow."
Ellie stepped forward. "Hold up. Who told you that?"
47 didn't answer. His eyes scanned the windows. The rooftops. The angles of approach.
Joel's voice dropped to gravel. "You know who?"
"Yes. I have names."
He paused.
"…Abby Anderson."
The air went still.
Ellie's expression snapped to stone. Joel stiffened like a man watching ghosts crawl out of his past.
"That name," Joel said. Quietly. "I haven't heard it in years."
47 continued, "She leads a unit. Military experience. Seeking vengeance. Tomorrow, they make their move."
Ellie muttered, "F***ing WLF…"
Joel's fingers twitched near his holster. "Why the hell would they come here now?"
"Because they've tracked you. And because this town made you soft."
Silence.
Joel clenched his jaw. "You here to protect me? Is that it?"
"I'm here to complete a contract," 47 said. "If that aligns with your survival, then yes."
Ellie stepped forward, eyes sharp. "Who the hell sent you?"
47 paused.
Then simply replied:"I don't take orders. I take contracts. This one found me."
Joel exhaled slowly. "You some kinda hired gun?"
"I'm something else."
Outside, snow began to fall again.And in the corner of 47's vision, the countdown continued.
23:47:1823:47:17