Free Collide by Christine Fonseca

end. Trust me.”
    She did. And when Papa died in a horrible accident, she trusted the Creator’s advice to continue her training with him. When the Creator reformed his organization, the Order, she still stayed with him. When he promised that she could stand as an equal within the Order as long as she completed a few more tasks, including carrying out the assassinations the Order commanded, she still stayed. And when she discovered that the Creator wasn’t working for the government any more, that his goals were more personal now, she assumed his interests mirrored her own. A series of decisions she’d questioned repeatedly over the past ten years. Mari’s death convinced her she’d made the right choice.
    The Architect smiled as she sat in the old swing on the porch, her legs dragging on the ground. She stared at the forests surrounding her home and took a deep breath. Sunlight filtered through the trees and reflected off the dewy moisture typical in the early morning hours. A sense of peace settled along her skin; the first in nearly a decade. Mari’s death released some of her pain, just as the Creator had promised.
    The other killings had never offered any type of relief. Not when she killed the lab animals, not even when she murdered the doctor. They didn’t hold the same meaning to her; they didn’t offer her vengeance.
    She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. Pine and rain combined with the soft breeze and tranquil bird sounds. A smile curled her lips. For a moment she imaged herself with Papa. Happy.
    You’re finding yourself at last, your purpose .
    She welcomed the Creator in her thoughts.
    You’re finding your peace .
    Yes, sir. Just as you promised . The Architect opened herself to him. Memories of the experiments at the lab surfaced quickly, followed by images of the accident and what it took from her:
    Her family—gone.
    Her home—gone.
    All because of the others.
    No one else had lost what she did when the accident closed the lab. No one understood her pain. Her memories moved to the Creator. He took her in, gave her a home, purpose to her life.
    I’m proud of you , the Creator thought. The Order will be proud as well.
    Her heart swelled.
    You must finish your task.
    “Yes” filled her mind before she processed the Creator’s words. I serve you and the Order. Just like always.
    The Creator left her thoughts just as the sun rose, drying the last remnants of morning dew from the trees. She thought of her remaining targets. They would be more difficult then Mari. They were more talented, stronger. She cared about them more.
    Especially the Ninja.
    She laughed at the name, remembering how he’d earned it. She and the others had worked for weeks together, learning new skills every day. Remote viewing, telekinesis, clairvoyance; nothing was off limits. When they weren’t working in the lab or testing out their abilities, they played together in a large open room of the residence. They became a family during the off hours; they plotted and planned a future together. Their “code names” were a by-product of their plans.
    She was called the Architect, a name that suited her well. She always saw the future and created her best outcome. Although she didn’t value the skill as the others had, there was no denying her talent. The Architect was a master strategist.
    Mari’s talent involved clairvoyance. Code-named the Eagle, she mastered remote viewing more powerfully than any of the others. Within the first few days of training, Mari recreated detailed floor plans of distant buildings, knew the contents of any safe, and found missing people—all with no more than a quick close of her eyes.
    The Architect had expected a bigger fight from Mari; she thought her presence would be discovered sooner. The Creator said the others’ memories had all been modified, that none of them retained their gifts. The Architect didn’t believe it until her confrontation with Mari. Now she knew the truth. None of them