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Djin, Dayang and Ganz were dismissed for the day, but Zain was not. Othman claimed he was best fit and the best Core Leader to confront about mission’s statistics. So, he sat by his desk and wrote page by page about probabilities and its outcomes, what the result actually was. His brain could not stay in the same pace as his mindless writing. Ever page he wrote was aggressively criticised, even if he tried to logically reason with Othman. Always, it was left him tirelessly working and writing until he felt like his fingers were going to pop off. But, Othman needed to be contented otherwise — God, Zain did not even want to think of the possibility of the organisation shutting down.
Another night where he avoided sleep once again. He exited the study room, analyses in hand — the cheery laughter of agents roaming the headquarters almost like an ring taunting his ears. Regardless, he forced a small smile as that was the best he could do and greeted the agents who looked upon him. Then, he gently excused himself like always to head to the meeting where Othman was waiting for him physically to hand him the papers.
Othman took it.
Without thanking him. Not even the slightest.
Zain is not the greedy type and even makes Djin stand down when he tries to call out the injustice. He has sprained his wrist after a mission failure, therefore the pain worsened as he wrote. All he did was suffer. Suffer. Only for a few sentences, “Okay. You may leave now. You have more assignments to complete. Turn them in by 11 pm. ”
And, he thanked him anyway. A little mechanism he learned to keep Othman on his side for a bit more. MATA is a organisation that the city needed. Why? Why did he have to thank him? Zain was questioning himself everyday on the validity of Othman’s words. Djin had stopped complaining about Othman’s lack of engagement in gathering resources for gadget advancements. Instead, Djin aimed to protect Zain’s identity and recently aided him closely in battles. Undeniably, Zain teased him for it but he was forever thankful for the support.
He had not any naps or resting time during the night, so he decided just to rest for a bit in one of the resting rooms. With his fingers spinning the door’s lock and it clicked, he turned on the projector to display the time and shut off the lights. The blue light displaying a time, “9:00 am.” A 1 hour nap would not hurt, right? His eyes drifted to the soft couch and walked over there to finally take a nap.
*
His eyes slowly fluttered open again, looking around the room to grasp his environment after some refreshment. Fuck! His focus quickly darted at the time illuminating on the projector, “6:00 pm.” Shit! Shit! Fuck! He jolted up from the bed and rushed out to the meeting room. Oh, fuck! Fuck! He did not mean to oversleep. He could have sworn he put a timer.. or did he? The doors opened for him when he neared, but he found a note with Othman’s stylish writing. “Someone already turned in your assignments.”
Who the hell turned in his assignments? Certainty, he knew his soul did not detach from his body while he was asleep and turned it in for his physical body. Who did? He looked around the room, scanning any sort of piece to see if Othman was hiding, ready to ridicule him for being naïve. Nothing. So, he folded the paper and placed it into the garbage bin.
When he entered the heart of the headquarters, looking for anyone suspicious. Among the agents walking around, one waved to him. Djin only winked at him before calling him over and Zain rushed over with a smile. “Come on, let’s go eat,” Djin said, gently punching Zain in the arm. Of course, who would give good analyses other than Zain? Yeah, he knew he forever owned Djin a favour.