Johnstone woke in the middle of the night from a recurring dream. He was home; not at the compound but his family home, with his mother, his brother, sister and his three young nephews and nieces. His brother was significantly younger than them both, so his sister was the first one to extend the family. Johnstone had always put his career first and had never really understood the decision to have children. Not in this world anyway.

It all seemed like a distant land to him. When he had moved to the island he had agreed and knew the sacrifice he would make; the lies he would have to tell. As far as everyone knew he was dead, lost on a foreign mission. An honourable end. They would have held the usual military funeral for him. His family would have cried, maybe even smiled through tears when some of his peers would regale stories of his heroic acts, his death a great loss to society. Yet it wasn't the guilt of the lies he told that woke him but seeing his family's faces again. He couldn't help but wonder where they were, what they were doing and if they were safe. If they had really benefitted from the deal he had made.

His job and five years apart had forced him to detach himself from his old life, determined that what he did now had a greater purpose. But recently as the uncertainty of the months piled behind him, his family visited his dreams more frequently. No matter how hard he tried to forget, it seemed his subconscious was not so easily fooled. From a rural community, he kept telling himself his family would be safe at first, but then he started to imagine what would happen when they started evacuating cities. Would society remain intact or would everything descend into chaos as his organisation had foretold? Human nature had a habit of discord after all. He hoped that their safety would really be guaranteed as had been promised during his initial contact with the organisation. This memory often replayed in his dreams as a dark shadow gradually grew over the faces of his family.

He was in a darkened room, sitting behind a metal desk on an unsteady wooden chair, a two-way mirror in front of him, when the man walked in. He looked him up and down at first without saying a word, before starting to skim through a file in his hand.

'Adam Johnstone, sorry Lieutenant Adam Johnstone. 27 years old, born 12th October 2018.' He looked up from his paper and Johnstone nodded in accordance.

'Very good. My name is Nathaniel Yates, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.'

Johnstone's good training led him not to ask questions, but he still wondered why he had been called in here with no explanation. He had been instructed to tell nobody where he was going.

'Now Adam, can I call you Adam?'

He hesitated. 'Actually, the others call me Johnstone.'

Yates ignored the response. 'I bet you're wondering why I am here?'

'The question had crossed my mind, yes. General Layton said you had some information for me?'

Yates surveyed him again, meeting his eyes with a piercing stare. Most people would look away from a gaze like that, but Johnstone held steady, unblinking. He wondered if Yates was a military man, though his demeanour and dress told him otherwise. He had the look of a businessman from one of those new trendy tech companies, but his manner was more akin to the military psychologists they would frequently visit. But something about his presence made Johnstone feel at ease.

'General Layton relayed correctly. But it is not only information I am here to give you. It is an opportunity.' He paused for a moment as if for dramatic effect, seemingly expecting Johnstone to press him for details. However, Johnstone remained silent and so Yates continued. 'You see I've been aware of you for a long time Adam Johnstone and I have a very important job for you if you will listen to my proposal.'

Johnstone responded with a single nod.

'Excellent, excellent, now where to start. You see Adam'—he continued, again voicing his first name as if to gauge the response—'you must have noticed that you have progressed faster than normal here. A corporal by your third year, lieutenant after the fourth. I'm sure your fast promotion will have raised a few eyebrows from your peers, yes?' He did not wait to hear the answer. 'You show a particularly—how to put it—promising aptitude that people in an organisation like myself seek. Your progress has not been a coincidence; not that it wasn't partly accomplished by your own merit.'

'Your organisation?' As he had suspected, Yates was not from the military.

'You will learn all about us in time, you see the work we do is quite sensitive, yet very important. For those reasons, I cannot divulge more details with you until we confirm the initial contract.'

'The contract? You want me to leave the military?'

'On the contrary Adam. How does Commander Johnstone sound to you? I think it has a certain ring to it.'

'Commander of what?' Johnstone knew no access to such a title was available within his own ranks.

'Of a very exciting and ground-breaking mission. A promotion, a substantial pay rise, and not to mention the opportunity to gain knowledge beyond which you could ever attain if you stay where you are now. How does that sound?'

Johnstone looked at Yates face, which appeared unnervingly still. 'What's the catch?'

Yates smiled and explained the terms of Johnstone's contract carefully and meticulously, revealing all but the actual nature of the job. Yates knew everything about him: his reasons for joining the military, driven more by the need to leave his small town and be part of something greater than by anything else; he knew about his father's problem with gambling and how this had left his family in significant debt; that he had not since reconciled with his father and seldom visited home. He knew Johnstone had never fully fitted in amongst his new 'family', that he progressed so quickly as to make his peers and even superiors uncomfortable; that he wasn't particularly popular and never had been.

The opportunity that Yates now offered was a chance to get away from such restrictions, a fresh start where he would be the one giving orders, not following then. He would be part of something greater, something spectacular, to save his country on a mission that President Clark herself had commissioned. More than that, Yates promised that his family would be looked after in his absence; his brother, sister, and their families, his mother now on her own after his father had left a year before.

The terms: Johnstone would leave immediately, attend a week's initiation, after which he would have a choice. To join the man's organisation or to return to his old life; sworn to secrecy to anything he had witnessed, under the threat of a charge of treason, a capital offence. At first telling, it seemed like a generous offer.

'I hope you will see it as an opportunity to be completely free. You see Adam, should you accept my offer, you can no longer exist as the Adam Johnstone we know. In fact, it is critical that nobody outwith our organisation discovers who we are, and so the secrecy of our mission must be safeguarded. You could think of your new anonymity as a type of insurance'.

'I'm not sure I understand?'

'Well technically you'll be declared dead, lost in action on a mission. Don't worry the cover will be established soon', he declared waving his hands as if it was a minor detail. 'Then you will be free to join us fully, no connections to your old life, to a special facility where we are conducting pioneering research. Research to change the world. You will have a fresh start with nothing to hold you back.'

'And you want me to agree to this without knowing anything about what your organisation even does? To leave my life behind?'

Yates turned suddenly serious, leaning in closer so that Johnstone could almost feel his breath. 'Let's get real here Adam. You see your family less than once a year and speak to them scarcely more than that. With this opportunity, you can give them more in your absence than by being present in their lives. You have no partner, no children, no real place you can call home. Nothing is really keeping you here.' Yates leaned back, letting the speech sink in before talking again. 'Start thinking of a bigger picture and once you do I personally promise you that your eyes will be opened to the greater purpose for which my organisation exists. Not only to serve your country, but to serve humanity. The world is sick with darkness Adam, and our organisation seeks to bring light back to it, to cure it. To cure it and make it better. Just give me a week and I'm sure you will have no doubts.'

Johnstone sat for a moment sifting through Yates' words. He came to two conclusions: either he was crazy or incredibly intelligent, perhaps both, though his intuition persuaded him of the latter. It was true he had never felt fully at home anywhere, always felt like his talents were not wholly utilised. He had been trained to follow orders, but he always knew that he would not be happy in the same place for too long. Already he was restless. As he looked at the expectant face of Yates he found a desire to please, and his decision was made.

'Okay.'

Yates jumped up from his seat as if Johnstone had made him truly happy. 'Yes yes, excellent! We leave the compound tonight, so I need you to go and pack anything you need. Your peers will be told in time that you have been selected as part of a training exercise, that is all.'

'That's if I decide to stay after initiation?'

'Oh of course, don't worry about that...but believe me I think this is the last time you will be in this place,' Yates responded fidgeting. 'Someone will come to collect you this evening. Make sure you are ready.'

It was simple; he packed a light duffle bag with his scant personal possessions that night and left on a chopper with a silent but triumphant Yates.

A week later, his initiation complete, Johnstone walked into Yates' office. It was brightly lit with vast windows overlooking the dry dusty land outside; tall fences were etched along the perimeter of what had become his residence for the week. Yates pointed to the armchair across from his desk and Johnstone sat.

'Adam, welcome. Pam has informed me you have made a choice.'

'I have.'

'Do you accept your contract?'

'Yes.'

Yates' mouth curved, but his voice remained steady. 'We are delighted to have you on board. Now, you should make any final calls to your family but try not to sound too...despondent. We don't want to raise suspicions, do we? Tell them you are being dispatched on a mission abroad and won't be contactable for a few months. After we leave this compound there will be no turning back. You are absolutely sure? You understand the sacrifice?'

'I understand.'

'Wonderful. I have no doubt that you will be amply rewarded for your sacrifice. Meet me by the runway in two hours. I am excited to tell you everything about our organisation. What you have learned this week is only a snippet and I'm sure you are eager to know more about the island?' Yates said before turning silent. It was a rhetorical question. Johnstone returned a smile for the first time as he left the room. Unlike Yates, he was a man of few words.

He had felt like he was entering unknown territory when he boarded that plane soon after, Yates by his side. What he had learned in that week had been enough to convince him of the brilliance of Yates' vision; he was excited to know more about his own role in it.

Yates had waited an hour into the flight before beginning the conversation that Johnstone would always remember so clearly.

'First of all, I'd like to welcome you to our organisation, Eternal. Please, ask me anything.'

As the conversation continued, he nodded along eagerly to Yates' words and by the end Johnstone was further convinced that he was part of something great and revolutionary. Some of it frightened him, but the rest persuaded him of what he already had suspected about Yates. He was a visionary, a genius.

As Johnstone thought back he had to ponder whether all that had happened was as Yates had intended. The work they did on the island had met its obstacles, but Yates never seemed perturbed by any lack of progress, seemingly enthused on every visit he made. Remembering his initiation, he convinced himself that his actions had just been for the greater good, about bringing light back from the darkness. Whatever lay ahead, he hoped he could maintain such conviction. With that, he fell again into a troubled sleep.