Alexander:
The city looked different when no one knew who I was.
Without the crest on the armored vehicles, without the guards flanking me, people moved through the streets as if the world still belonged to them. They glanced over their shoulders, tightened their shoulders, shifted their weight, but they did not part like a sea before a storm. That anonymity was a kind of luxury I rarely allowed myself.
Dressed down in black jeans, a dark coat, and a cap pulled low, I could walk without the immediate recognition that usually preceded me. My Beta, Marcel, kept pace at my side, eyes forward, the two civilian men trailing a few yards behind us like a token escort. He complained in the low, familiar way that meant he was watching me more than the street.
“You know there are easier ways to
