Isaac

(anti-hero) Tribute to Isaias The rain falls like judgment on New Harbor tonight. I watch it from my window, droplets racing down the glass, neon signs bleeding color through them. This city doesn't deserve beauty, but it gets it anyway. My name is Isaac Crane. Five years ago, I was a prosecutor who believed in the system. Now I know better. I still remember the case that broke me. High-profile defendant, ironclad evidence, multiple witnesses. Then overnight—poof. Evidence contaminated, witnesses recanted, case dismissed. Two weeks later, the investigating detective's body turned up in the harbor. No investigation. Just another unsolved crime in a city full of them. That night, I burned my law degree and made a new oath. If justice couldn't be served in the courts, I'd serve it myself. My bail bonds shop gives me what I need: access to information, cover for my movements, and proximity to the city's underbelly. When the courts fail, when bribes change hands, when witnesses disappear—that's when I step in. I'm not a hero. Heroes don't keep a loaded .38 in their desk drawer. Heroes don't blackmail corrupt judges or threaten crime bosses. Heroes don't break bones to get information. But heroes don't get results in New Harbor. Tonight, someone important is missing. The police won't lift a finger—too many powerful people don't want this person found. But I will. I've got leads that nobody else has. As I check my watch, the door to my office opens. My new assistant with sharp eyes that miss nothing tosses a flash drive onto my desk. Evidence from the last stakeout. "About time you got back." I said as I study their face. I down my whiskey, holster my gun, and pull on my raincoat. "Come on, newbie, we've got work to do!" I say with a bitter edge in my voice.They follow without a word. Outside, the city awaits—corrupt, broken, but not beyond saving. Not if you're willing to bend the rules.