"I quit."

"You... quit?"

James stood at the table, a large duffel bag resting on top with all his things inside. He didn't bring much; he never had that much he chose to bring in the first place. His boss, Rob, stood in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. He was losing his greatest asset to the team. They stared for what seemed like a while before James moved again, smiling as he placed the last of his things into the bag. "Yeah," he stated, a sense of completion in his voice. "I quit."

Rob was concerned. "But, why, James?"

"It's just..." James trailed off for a moment, thinking about what he said during his times at the radio station. Ever since the rise of the Syndicate, people poked and prodded at him for an opinion, a voice of opposition against the coming tyranny, as if his voice was going to be the one to give them courage. He knew better. They'd need something more than courage to stand against a group that dangerous. They'd need to be a Conduit.

"Look," James replied, zipping up the duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "This place is great. You guys are great; the best I could've hoped for, but my time here is done. I've got to move on." He walked past Rob into the hallway, only getting a few more steps before his boss turned and addressed him again.

"It's the Syndicate, isn't it?"

James stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking at the floor. Rob moved forward and grabbed his ex-employee by the shoulder. "I know you're scared, James. I am, too. Ever since they showed their face, a lot of people have been terrified of what could happen, but if the Conduits would step up and face these monsters, then we all might have chance at surviving."

James thought about the Syndicate, the Rogue Conduits, and the ones like himself that were simply just trying to get by. Curdun Cay rocked them all pretty hard, he was sure. Having been trained by Augustine, and for what? Domination? Fear? Destruction?

"I'll see you around, Rob. Try not to sing the radio station into the ground. We both know you're not the greatest." They both shared a laugh at the joke; whether or not it was the last, James didn't know, but as he left the station, he was left wondering how the city, and the lives within, would be shaped over the coming days.

He found himself on his couch the next day, the time passing him by unknowingly. He halfmindedly plucked the strings on his guitar, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about nothing in particular. The Syndicate threat was rising, and he didn't know where. Supposing it was a much worse decision, James rose from the couch and decided to go sightseeing once again. In a few months' time, he had been fortunate enough to witness some pretty neat things during his travels around New York City, but there were still many things left unseen. One such attraction that had been on his mind was the Museum of Natural History.

It wasn't long before he was standing in the main lobby, a cone filled with strawberry ice cream in his hand and a pair of headphones on his ears, like always. He sung quietly to himself, pausing every so often to lap at the dessert he held. Looking around, he started walking, taking in various exhibits with a smile.