Back in his room, Jordan sat on his bed, staring at the wall. It had been years since the last time he had slept in here. He’d been here at times when he visited his father, but not once did he get a chance to sleep here.
His room was fashioned just like any other apartment dorm - silver gray walls with smooth curves, matching pale furniture that glistened and a desk containing a built-in holographic computer. The place was kept impeccably clean while he was gone and not a single speck of dust was visible. The only that didn't’ change was the size of his bed and he clothes in his closet. He went through them one by one and threw them out all in disgust. He was long sick of the pale uniform he was suppose to wear. He had outgrown most of them anyways.
His bed was way too small. He didn’t realized that he was once that short. Especially only five years ago. But now that didn’t matter so much because he had reset his bed so fit himself better and all traces of abandonment were gone.
But Jordan was in no mood the brood over memories of his childhood before he left to be a spy. A dark cloud loomed over him as he brooded over on word that tumbled through his mind like a paper boat, somehow still afloat as huge ocean waves crash down on it.
Garth was probably his biggest enemy. No, not even opponent anymore. Enemy. Between the two men was only a bond of hatred. It had once been tight competition, but the day that they had both tried to kill each other, the competition was broken and they were no longer simply pushing each other around anymore, it was a fight to death.