Tony S.
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Everything posted by Tony S.
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I regained consciousness, completely naked, my mind still in a haze. My thoughts were sluggish, but I was lucid enough to check my own body first—and what I saw made my stomach turn. My entire body was covered in dried blood and fluids. I tried to move, but both of my arms were tied tightly to the bedpost, rendering me completely helpless. The sharp pain in my body—especially in the back part—made the memory of what had happened rush back in horrifying clarity. “He’s awake!” someone sh
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The mission to track the signal eastward had taken them to the outskirts of Bucharest, where old ruins met tech labs masked by abandoned industrial parks. Ash stepped off the chopper first, his boots landing silently on cracked concrete. The evening air was cold, sharp with ozone and something unnatural. He didn’t need Quinn’s scans to know the energy was here. “Same protocols,” he said over comms. “Sweep, contain, observe. Minimal force unless provoked.” “Define provoked,” Leo quipped
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The next morning, I woke up with a splitting headache and a throat so dry it felt like sandpaper. I squinted in pain, eyes still half-shut, and glanced around the room—there was no one else there. It took me several long seconds to even remember where I was and how I ended up here. Dragging myself off the bed, I crawled toward the fridge, grabbed a water bottle, and downed it in one go. At first, the pounding in my head drowned out any other sensation in my body. But as I leaned against the
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The helicopter's engine hummed like a warning in Kai's bones. He sat beside Rhys, silent beneath the whine of rotors, his mind already inside the blueprints Quinn had uploaded to his tablet. The target: a biotech facility in the outskirts of Delhi, newly built and not listed on any official registry. The anomaly signature spiked there two days ago. Now it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat in hiding. Ash’s voice came over comms. "Insertion in two. No kill shots unless engaged first. Kai, you’
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All of that happened between the two of us last year. At first, I believed everything he said. I believed in everything we had, believed we could stay close like before—as best friends. But reality turned out to be cruel. In the end, his promise was slowly twisted, warped by the aftermath of what happened that night. I never thought the reason Max started to change was because of me. I figured it had more to do with his heartbreak. Maybe that’s what made him start acting like a player—
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On Saturday evening, after watching a movie with Aaron, I decided to spend the night at his place like he had invited me to. Of course, I already knew what he wanted from me—and truthfully, I wanted the same thing. After more than a month of dating, I figured it was long enough to prove he was serious about me, and that we were ready to take things to the next level. After that night, I told Max everything. He was the first person I confided in about having slept with Art. He didn’t look to
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Jakarta wasn’t supposed to be on the map. Yet when a warehouse erupted in a burst of white-blue flame—accompanied by a brief communications blackout across three city blocks—Quinn was already pulling satellite footage, security feeds, and seismic signatures into a multistream analysis before anyone else in the world could classify it. The footage showed something…off. A flicker—like reality glitching. One frame, the street was empty. The next, scorched concrete and collapsed scaffoldin
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The next morning, the world didn’t end. But it shifted. Word of the Six’s Pentagon appearance never made it to the headlines, but the ripples were immediate in the rooms that mattered. Military briefings were rescheduled. Political analysts whispered behind closed doors. Somewhere in Brussels, a NATO analyst labeled them "R-Class Variables." Quinn monitored it all, his fingers dancing across keyboards and biometric relays. Firewalls were reinforced. Backchannel monitoring increased ten
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After that, I became Max’s go-to person for all his love problems. The two of us grew even closer—we reached the point where we could talk about everything without keeping any secrets at all. Whenever he had relationship issues—whether it was with his girlfriend or with that girl Natalie—he would always call me first. And whenever I had something weighing on my mind, he would listen and give advice too. The more I got to know him, the more I realized how serious he actually was about love—s
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After about a week of using the library as our meeting spot for working on the project, Max suggested that we move our group sessions to his house instead. That way, we wouldn’t have to deal with the library’s closing hours, the lack of food, the uncomfortable environment, the lack of privacy, or the painfully slow internet. His and Rex’s dorm room was too cramped, didn’t have enough chairs or desks, and apparently their internet went down all the time. But his house, on the other hand, was way
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Love Is 3 (Arthur & Max) is a haunting and emotionally charged story about unspoken love, loss of innocence, and the devastating cost of vulnerability. It explores the quiet pain of one-sided love—and the darker side of what people are capable of when that love is left unreturned.
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I used to think that waiting and hoping were such magical things. Even though they’re just single words, when experienced by different people in different moments, their meaning—and what they bring—can be completely different in ways you’d never expect. For example, if you’re looking forward to going on a trip somewhere, the feeling is probably pretty similar for everyone—excitement and eagerness for that day to come. If a little kid is waiting for the ice cream truck to pass by their house
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The next morning, Pod Two carried a brittle quiet. Beyond the customary hum of keyboards, Charles felt an undercurrent of scrutiny—colleagues shooting furtive glances as they passed, unanswered Slack pings from HR waiting in his inbox. At precisely 9:30, a curt email arrived from People & Culture: Subject: Confidential Investigation Meeting To: Charles Whitaker, Eddie Clarke, Harry Morris Please attend a private meeting with HR and Legal this afternoon at 3:00 PM in Conference
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It started with rhythm. The kind only soldiers understood—training, repetition, muscle memory honed through sweat and silence. After the loss downtown, the Six didn’t wallow. They rebuilt. Not just their base or their routines, but themselves. The gym became a sanctuary again. Sparring mats were re-laid, weapon racks cleaned and re-oiled. Ash reinstated morning drills—five a.m., no exceptions. Quinn, ever the observer, adjusted lab protocols to monitor subtle physiological shifts durin
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“You’re gay, aren’t you, Art? So just spill it—your adopted little brother’s gay too, right?” I texted Art the question even though deep down, I already knew the answer. Art went silent for a moment before replying: “Yeah, I’m gay. So, what the hell does that have to do with anything?” “I just figured… you know, ‘it takes one to know one’ kind of thing. And since you are one, tell me if Gus is also gay.” “If you’re saying that, then what about you? You think he is?” Now it
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The next day, I showed up for our study session with Rex looking like a zombie. I told him straight up that I’d barely slept, and he could clearly see it in my face. About halfway into our first hour, I was already nodding off, barely following anything. “You should nap for a bit,” Rex said gently. “You’re clearly running on fumes.” “You sure? Because if I fall asleep, I’m probably out for two hours minimum. You might not be able to wake me.” “It’s fine. Just sleep. Looks like it’
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The next morning was quiet. Too quiet. Breakfast was perfunctory—coffee, protein shakes, silence. Even Leo, usually the first to crack a joke, just stared at his eggs. Ash barely spoke at all, only nodding when Sylvie offered to help with perimeter updates. Quinn didn’t push anyone. Instead, he returned to his lab and updated security countermeasures, encrypting every outbound signal. Still, the heaviness lingered. Around noon, the team split again for errands. Grocery restocks, hardwa
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They arrived to the office that Monday morning with the usual hum of screens and coffee machines—yet something in the air felt taut, as though the entire floor were holding its breath. As Harry swiped in, Eddie paused by the lift, brow furrowed, hands tucked into his pockets. Marcus nudged him from behind. “Heard anything more about the takeover?” Marcus whispered, glancing at the polished brass door of Charles’s office. Eddie shook his head, voice low. “Only that it’s happening. Today
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The next morning, the three met at the edge of the bullpen’s open-plan desks, coffee mugs in hand and sunlight spilling over computer monitors. Charles cleared his throat, glancing at Eddie before he began. “Harry, there’s something we need to tell you. Yesterday—well, you know that new intern, Robbie Anson Clarke?” Harry nodded, brow raised. “Yes?” Eddie stepped forward. “Robbie isn’t just an intern. He and I… we met before, on a hookup app.” He winced, rubbing the back of his ne
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The ripple didn’t return. But the unease never left. Two days passed with no more anomalies, just the quiet hum of upgrades and routines. Sylvie worked closely with Quinn, debugging surveillance systems and refining their digital camouflage. Her laughter had returned—cautious but real—as she gradually shed the trauma of her abduction. Micah kept an eye on her. Whenever she returned from a deep dive into old lab files or rewatched Oslo footage, she’d lean against the doorway as if she’d
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Wednesday came around again. Just like last time, I got home earlier than both of the older guys. After taking a shower, I settled in the living room, watching Netflix to kill time. But as soon as I heard Max’s car pulling into the garage, my nerves started acting up again—how was I supposed to look Rex in the eye? “Hey… I mean, good evening, Rex,” I said a bit stiffly as he and Max walked into the house. “Oh, great. He gives my friend a good evening but never once gives me one,” Max m
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Charles slipped into his office just after nine, the familiar click of the door sounding unusually final. Minutes later, he found Eddie and Harry waiting by the conference-room table, their eyes bright with quiet confidences. Eddie offered Harry a brief, knowing smile—and when Harry returned it, Eddie reached out and brushed his fingers against Harry’s forearm, a spark of warmth that lingered long after they turned to face Charles. Harry’s cheeks warmed, and Charles watched them both, heart poun
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Night fell in brittle silence as the team worked in a choreographed blur. Within hours, the bunker was locked down, not abandoned. Drives cloned and encrypted. Lab equipment shielded in reinforced cabinets. Personal effects—what few they allowed themselves—secured. Ash oversaw logistics. Quinn monitored satellite relays and cloaked surveillance. Micah checked vitals. Leo reinforced the perimeter’s pulse field. Rhys, wired with adrenaline, kept watch with Elias under the moonlight. They
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We were at the Woodbridge Center Mall, wandering between stores, joking around like always. Even though the place was busy—especially for a Saturday evening—it still felt like we were in our own little world. While Marcus stopped at a food stand to grab drinks, I glanced lazily at the crowd walking past. That’s when I saw a familiar figure in a plain white tee. “Marcus!” I nudged him, nearly spilling his soda. “Dude, what?!” “Is that Rex over there?” I pointed toward the guy’
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The next day was Sunday, and we repeated the same rhythm. I got to his place a bit early, we grabbed food downstairs and chatted over brunch, then studied for another couple of hours. I went home afterward. Those two days? Easily some of the happiest I’d had in a long time. That night, I couldn’t even sleep properly. I kept replaying his smile, his voice, the way he laughed at my jokes. On the train ride back Sunday evening, I posted on both Facebook and Instagram: “Being near you
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