In Chap­ter 105, Patch enters the Mer­chants Nation­al Bank under the oppres­sive weight of a steel-gray sky, which sets a grim tone for the events to unfold. He moves swift­ly, his heart pound­ing with antic­i­pa­tion, unaware of the addi­tion­al secu­ri­ty detail lurk­ing just out­side the side door. As Patch pulls out his gun, pre­pared for what he per­ceives to be a rou­tine rob­bery, he fails to notice the guard who mir­rors his actions and takes aim in response. The ten­sion in the air is pal­pa­ble, but Patch remains focused, think­ing he has com­plete con­trol of the sit­u­a­tion. The teller, vis­i­bly ner­vous and flus­tered, hur­ried­ly fills an enve­lope with cash, her hands trem­bling as she glances ner­vous­ly over Patch’s shoul­der. Her fear is evi­dent, and she prac­ti­cal­ly thrusts the mon­ey into his hands, all while attempt­ing to keep her com­po­sure under the mount­ing pres­sure.

How­ev­er, the sit­u­a­tion takes an unex­pect­ed turn when a sin­gle shot rings out, loud­er than Patch antic­i­pat­ed and sharp against the silence of the bank. It shat­ters the glass divider, cre­at­ing an explo­sion of noise and chaos that sends every­one into a fren­zy. The loud crack of the shot is fol­lowed by the sud­den erup­tion of screams that fill the bank’s lob­by, height­en­ing the already tense atmos­phere. With­out a sec­ond thought, Patch drops to the floor, his body react­ing instinc­tive­ly to the chaos unfold­ing around him. As the sound of pan­ic rever­ber­ates through the air, the shrill sirens of alarm bells ring out, sig­nal­ing that the bank’s secu­ri­ty has been trig­gered. At the same time, the sprin­klers acti­vate, drench­ing the floor and adding to the pan­de­mo­ni­um. The cold, icy water drip­ping from the ceil­ing ampli­fies the grow­ing sense of fear and urgency, as the sit­u­a­tion spi­rals out of con­trol.

Patch crawls swift­ly across the wet car­pet, seek­ing refuge behind the near­est desk. The sounds of ter­ror con­tin­ue to echo in his ears, but he man­ages to find a moment to breathe, his chest heav­ing as he tries to calm his nerves. His mind races as he attempts to assess the sit­u­a­tion and regain con­trol. The chaos sur­round­ing him feels over­whelm­ing, and yet he knows that stay­ing hid­den is his only chance. Every sec­ond counts, and Patch knows he must remain vig­i­lant if he wants to make it out alive. The noise of the chaos in the bank becomes almost deaf­en­ing, but in this moment, Patch focus­es on the only thing that mat­ters: sur­viv­ing.

Mean­while, the guard, who had been caught off guard by the sud­den erup­tion of vio­lence, recov­ers quick­ly and advances toward Patch’s posi­tion. His weapon is drawn, his move­ments sharp and deter­mined, as he nav­i­gates through the wreck­age of the bank’s inte­ri­or. Patch, with a calm that belies the sit­u­a­tion, cal­cu­lates his next move. He’s aware of the Mod­el 36 revolver he’s up against, not­ing that it only holds six rounds, and by his count, only five shots have been fired. The ten­sion ris­es as the guard moves clos­er, the weight of the moment press­ing down on Patch. The sound of a sixth shot rings out, ric­o­chet­ing off the floor and embed­ding itself in the desk behind him, and Patch rec­og­nizes the urgency of the sit­u­a­tion. The guard is clos­ing in, and with that, Patch knows he has no time left. With­out hes­i­ta­tion, he makes a break for the exit, dart­ing through the chaos, his heart rac­ing as he sprints toward the door.

Up until this moment, Patch had thought of the rob­bery as a cal­cu­lat­ed game—a way to redis­trib­ute wealth for a cause he believed in. In his mind, the stolen mon­ey wasn’t just tak­en; it was meant to be giv­en to the For­ev­er Unit­ed char­i­ty, a cause that was dear to him. He con­vinced him­self that the ends jus­ti­fied the means. Yet, as he seals the enve­lope con­tain­ing the damp, stolen cash, real­i­ty begins to sink in. The grav­i­ty of what he’s done, the vio­lence he’s incit­ed, and the risks he’s tak­en sud­den­ly feel all too real. The exhil­a­ra­tion of the heist, which had felt almost right­eous at the time, now gives way to a sober­ing real­iza­tion. Patch can no longer ignore the truth—his actions were not as jus­ti­fied as he once believed.

As Patch takes a moment to reflect on his choic­es, he feels a mix­ture of regret and con­fu­sion. His mis­sion to help oth­ers, to aid the For­ev­er Unit­ed char­i­ty, now feels like a dis­tant and mis­guid­ed jus­ti­fi­ca­tion for the chaos he has caused. The ten­sion from the bank, the vio­lence, and the near escape weigh heav­i­ly on his mind as he dri­ves away, the stolen mon­ey still damp in the enve­lope. The more he thinks about it, the clear­er it becomes: this wasn’t a noble cause, and his theft wasn’t some hero­ic act. Instead, it was the prod­uct of a twist­ed mind, fueled by a need to feel in con­trol amidst the storm of his own emo­tions. As he dri­ves into the night, Patch under­stands that the con­se­quences of his actions have only begun to unfold. The path ahead is uncer­tain, and the stakes are high­er than he ever imag­ined.