Unseen: Memories of The Future

I don't have time to be anxious.

This is the life I've chosen.

No—the life that was chosen for me.

Detective Aizen… let's see who truly holds the king in this game of chess.

I take out my phone and send a message through the secure line I had one of my men set up.

"Gather everyone at the warehouse tonight. I have a plan."

Tonight, I'll create the perfect illusion.

One of my men will become Justic3. Not just in name—but in memory, in purpose, in identity. I'll rewrite his past and turn him into the shadow that's been carving through the filth of this city. Then, he'll be caught by the detective.

A week later, another will take his place.

Then another.

And another.

By the time Aizen thinks he's found the real Justic3, ten different men—ten different pawns—will have appeared, killed, and been captured.

Four will act in this city. Six in others.

Of course, they won't know the truth.

The fake plan I'll feed the rest of my men is that we're investigating Detective Aizen and his apprentice, Kaito. We'll set traps, separate them, and capture Kaito. Then, we'll break him—turn him into a mole within Aizen's ranks.

That's what they'll believe.

But the real plan… is already in motion.

The Assembly

BEEP.

My phone vibrates.

"Boss, we're all here and ready."

I smirk and reply: "On my way."

Pulling my hoodie over my head, I slip out through my window and disappear into the night.

The warehouse is already buzzing with anticipation. The moment I step inside, the chatter dies down. All eyes are on me.

"Good."

"Boss! What's the plan?"

I step forward, scanning their faces.

"We're launching an investigation into Detective Aizen and Kaito. Our goal is to separate them, capture Kaito, and turn him into our mole. We'll feed Aizen false leads and manipulate him into walking right into our trap."

A murmur of approval spreads through the group.

One of them steps forward. "And how do you plan to do that, boss?"

I smirk. **"Simple. We'll send out seven teams of two. Each team will take out one criminal—make it brutal, make it messy. Leave behind coordinates for the old drug warehouse Francis used to run. Then, on the walls, you'll write:

'Nice try, Aizen. It won't be this easy. Come by yourself next time.'

This will lure Aizen in—alone. His reinforcements will stay hidden, thinking they have the upper hand. But we'll have the entire area rigged with explosives, just in case things go south."**

The men nod in approval.

"Sounds solid, boss! But are we supposed to be in the warehouse when he arrives?"

"No. You'll clear out beforehand. Three of you will remain on lookout, feeding us live updates. No slip-ups."

"Got it, boss!"

I pause. Then, I drop the bombshell.

"…But before we continue, I have to let ten of you go."

Silence.

They exchange glances.

"W-what do you mean, boss?"

"There are ten of you I can't trust."

Tension thickens.

"Raze. Viper. Specter. Kryos. Dagger. Havoc. Requiem. Onyx. Sable. Drakon."

Each name I call makes their expressions shift—anger, confusion, fear.

"Stay after the meeting. The rest of you, you're dismissed."

A heavy silence lingers, but no one dares to protest.

"Kuno."

A man steps forward—sharp eyes, unshakable presence.

One of my most trusted.

"Can I trust you to set the plan in motion?"

His voice is cold, steady. "Of course, boss."

The warehouse clears out. Now, I'm alone with the ten.

Now… the real plan begins.

The False Makers of Justice

They stand before me, eyes darting between each other, paranoia creeping in.

"You're probably all thinking the same thing."

I step forward.

"That one of you is a mole."

I let the words sink in.

Then, I smirk.

"You're probably right."

Before they can react, I snap my fingers.

"Viper. You're up first."

His body tenses. Slowly, he steps forward.

I place a hand on his head.

SLAP. DELETE. PLANT.

A single moment. A single rewrite.

Viper's past is gone.

Now, his only purpose is to kill Michael Jade—a serial rapist who had destroyed his family. He'll kill, leave behind the Justic3 tag, turn himself in… and end his own life.

Before anyone can say a word, he turns and sprints out of the warehouse, vanishing into the night.

The others freeze.

They don't understand what they just saw.

Good.

"Raze, you're up."

SLAP. DELETE. PLANT.

Now, Raze believes Luka Mensa, a notorious drug dealer, ruined his father's life. He has to kill him. He is Justic3.

One by one, I erase them.

One by one, I shape them into weapons of my will.

By the time I'm finished, four of them are already on their way to their designated towns. Six are en route to the cities I chose.

All of them carrying a fate they never asked for.

All of them believing they chose it themselves.

I step back, exhaling.

It's done.

Now, all I have to do… is wait.

One week from now, the first Justic3 will emerge.

Then the next.

And the next.

By the time Aizen realizes the truth, it will be far too late.

I chuckle.

Then I throw my head back and burst into laughter.

"Let's see how you handle this, Aizen!!"