The Eschatology job left a mark deeper than any wound. It wasn’t just the bruises or the sleepless nights afterward — it was the weight that settled heavy on my chest. A quiet kind of pressure that doesn’t go away, no matter how much I try to drown it in whiskey or distraction.

I kept to myself for a long time after that. Not because I wanted to, but because I needed space to figure out who I am now, who I’m becoming. The city’s always loud, but I found myself searching for silence — the kind you only get when you run the streets at 3 a.m. or shoot practice rounds into an empty lot under a flickering streetlamp.

Every day, I pushed harder. Early mornings spent running until my legs burned, evenings honing my aim, learning to reload faster, thinking about how I could survive the next contract. This life isn’t for the weak or slow — it demands everything. You learn that quick.

The work changes you. You cross lines you never thought you would, see things that haunt your dreams. Sometimes I wonder if I’m still the same Rocco Marino who just wanted a quiet life with his family, a man who drove a garbage truck and kept his head down.

But that man’s gone. Replaced by someone who’s had to get sharper, colder, ready for anything. The Eschatology dust has settled, sure — but inside me, the fight is far from over. I’m still standing, still moving forward. No turning back now.

It’s been a month since that whole mess with Mr. Long’s demon in Chinatown. The city feels the same, but I ain’t the same. After we wrapped up, I didn’t just sit on my hands. There’s no rest for guys like me.

Spent most nights hitting the gym harder than usual. Working on speed, strength, and timing  stuff I know I’ll need if things go sideways again. The ritual sword and those coin amulets taught me one thing: you can’t rely on luck. Gotta be ready, every minute.

Called in a few favors too. Got my hands on some more gear, better weapons, and a couple of contacts in Chinatown who owe me one. If anything weird shows up, I want to be the first to know.

Worked extra shifts at the dump to keep the money flowing. Family still comes first, no matter what’s going on with the contracts. My wife keeps the house running, and I try to be there for the kids whenever I can. Balancing this life isn’t easy, but it’s the one I chose.

Thought about the Oath I tried to make with Love and Aurel. Still bugs me that they said no. Trust means everything in this game. Next time, I’ll make sure they don’t get a choice.

So yeah, a month of sweat, planning, and keeping my head down. But I’m ready. Whatever comes next, I’ll face it head-on. No surprises

The weeks after? I kept it simple.

Woke up early, made coffee before the wife even stirred. Got the kids off to school, ran the truck, made my rounds like always. People throw out a lotta things they shouldn't makes you think. Sometimes I'd stop and just look at the stuff folks throw away. Toys, clothes, old pictures. Felt like I understood it more than usual.

Evenings, I didn’t train so much as… sit with things.

Dante and I Vice we talked more than usual. Real talks. Not just about routes or favors for the Napoli boys. We sat in the garage with the door half open, a couple lawn chairs, just shootin’ the breeze. Talked about what it all means why we keep doin’ this work, what we’d be if we didn’t. I told him some things I ain’t said out loud before. He listened. Gave me space when I needed it. That’s why he’s still around.

And the family? I made sure they knew I was here. I didn’t miss a single dinner. Took my daughter to get her learner’s permitn she stalled twice and got mad, but I told her she’s doin’ great. My boy beat me at cards. Twice. Kid’s gettin’ sharper.

Sometimes I’d just sit on the porch late, after everyone went to bed. Just me, a cold one, and the sound of the neighborhood doin’ its thing. Felt good to not be runnin’. Just breathin’. Just livin’.

Didn’t do nothin’ flashy. No trainin’ montages. But I got better. I got clearer. That counts.

After that mess in Goshen, I laid low. No strange jobs, no portals, no dead guys dropping missions on me mid-sentence. Just kept my head down.

Most of the month, I did what I always do ran my routes, kept the garbage moving, kept the Napoli boys happy. Nothin’ flashy. Just work.

When I wasn’t driving or takin’ care of side business, I was home. Spent time with the kids 

helped my boy with his math homework, even though I ain't touched algebra since Reagan. Took my daughter out driving a couple times. She’s got a heavy foot, but she listens.

Me and the wife had dinner together every night I could manage. Sometimes just leftovers, sometimes real food. Quiet moments. Not always easy to come by in this life.

Vice kept things steady too handled what needed handling, kept the heat off us. Just like always.

No new scars. No weird calls. Just a solid month of normal.

Can’t say I trusted it… but I appreciated it.