Because Arseny was isolated due to the mountains, the Wilds, and the dragons, they were not prepared for the military and technological advancements of the outside world. War came in 1720, and their armies were decimated. To fight back and catch up, Arseny developed an extensive organization dedicated to collecting information and safeguarding the country from outside espionage. The Arsenian Society of Surveillance and Reconnaissance was born shortly afterwards. It worked closely with the government, bringing back vital information Arsenians used to build up their technology. With such a close partnership it began the idea, and the practice, that the Director of the ASSR works for the Prime Minister.

Scene:

Alter and Arwen are in the Capital City of Alte, named after the river that flows through it.

First. There is an underground stone passageway connecting Arwen and the Director's offices. It's wide enough for two to walk side by side. A short spiraling staircase leads to the Director's office above a trapdoor.

Second. The ASSR Director's office. Relatively small. A single desk surrounds a chair on all sides but one, the right, from the perspective of the occupant. There is a cabinet next to the wall on the open side that held awards and framed photos of various people. The left wall had a window showing the city center and some of the Parliament building if you looked out to the right. The trapdoor was in the top left corner of the room.

Third. A river runs through the city. Parliament sits on the curve of the Alte. The plaza is in front of Parliament. To the left of Parliament and the square is the ASSR HQ. Extra Parliament offices are on the right. The city square is a large open space. It is a recreational area lined with shops and restaurants.

Black insulated wires lined the walls of the stone passageway to power the lightbulbs that hung from the ceiling. Alter hunched to avoid scraping his head. The rough, uneven corridor was carved hundreds of years ago but it was not without a modern flair. If a person knew just the spot on the wall to press, a separate passage would lead them to the opposite river bank. They turned a corner. An iron door blocked the way.

Alter was about to unlock it when a voice called out, "Arwen?"

"Yes, Maks?"

"I'll open it." A man, wearing a black peacoat and grey tie over a white dress shirt, stood in the doorway. His face bloomed into a smile upon seeing Arwen, then vanished when he saw Alter.

"What are you doing down here?" Alter asked.

Maks replied, "I wanted to check where my usually punctual guests were."

"We were held back by an unforeseen situation in our last mission."

Maks scrutinized Alter and smirked, "So that's how you were injured."

Alter stopped. "How did you know?"

Maks patted Alter's lower chest, the spot still tender, "The body doesn't lie."

Alter glanced at Arwen; he just shook his head and smiled.

Maks Meier, youngest Director of the ASSR. And its shortest. His head barely passed Alter's waist.

Maks said, "To be frank, I also just escaped a rather distasteful obligation. Caspara, my second, took over the press conference."

"How goes the narrative?" Arwen asked.

Maks walked backward as he recounted the story, "A burglar broke into a house and forced the homeowner to open his safe, affecting a struggle in which he was killed. The thief discovered records of incriminating evidence against organized crime and instead of fleeing with the loot he alerted the ASSR. Newspapers have nicknamed him the Principled Thief. An irony certainly lost on the people who coined the term."

They walked up the spiral staircase.

Maks continued, "It took us a day to move and sort through the documents and corroborate some of the information. The ASSR are now assisting your efforts through raids and arrests."

He lifted the trapdoor.

The Director's office was relatively small. A single desk surrounded a chair on all sides but one, the right, from the perspective of the occupant. A cabinet next to the open side held awards and framed photos of various people. The backdoor was located in the top left corner of the room and if Alter leaned forward, he could look out the window overlooking the city center and part of the Parliament building. The plaza was a large open space, a recreational area with shops and restaurants lining the edges. It was a weekend. Families crowded the square, visiting museums, theaters, parks and other landmarks, or simply enjoyed the good weather. Flocks of pigeons wandered around, sometimes menacing passersby, sometimes begging for food, but oftentimes flew off in a flurry as screaming children charged into their midst like bulls.

Alter commented, "We've already eliminated the most dangerous groups, but are there any casualties on our side so far? The enemy is sure to retaliate violently."

Maks adjusted his tie, proudly saying, "There were injuries but overall we were successful in mitigating them." He carried on describing the ASSR's activities but Alter stopped listening. A car approached the plaza's center. He frowned. Only ASSR vehicles were allowed in the square, so how did it bypass security? The car's passenger door opened. The person pulled out a-

"Get down! Get down!" Alter roared, tackling Maks and Arwen.

The window shattered. Bullets peppered the wall and frenzied shrieking intensified. Tires screeched and sirens wailed after them. ASSR officials attempted to restore order. The worst had passed. Arwen stood, shaking off shards of glass. Maks popped up, pale face flushed scarlet. He quickly forced down the blush but his eyes still erupted with volcanic rage.

"Excuse me." Maks growled as he rushed out.

Arwen motioned at Alter, "We should return."

They ran through the passage.

Alter asked, "They must have targeted Maks specifically. It's highly improbable they knew we were there."

Arwen jumped and heaved himself onto his office floor. "An attack on the ASSR is an attack on Parliament."

"True."

Someone pounded on the door. "Prime Minister! Sir, are you alright?"

Arwen opened the door and laid a hand on the young woman's shoulder. He calmly said, "I'm quite alright, Caspara. What's the situation?"

Caspara briefed them as they walked through the halls, empty, because Parliament was not in session during weekends.

"An unknown car drove into the plaza and fired on Headquarters, aiming for the Director's office in particular. Officers are chasing the car and its occupants as we speak. The wooden crate they left in the plaza is being investigated. We have the perimeter secured, the public evacuated."

They left the building and hurried down the steps. The square was empty except for the officers clad in white on patrol and the cluster that surrounded the container. The square, once a place for cheerful mingling, now a desolate wasteland strewn with the remnants of a desperate stampede, chairs toppled, trash littered everywhere, and blood trickled like a creek into the stone ground as the last of the bodies was carried away.

Alter saw Maks besieged by worried colleagues intent on stopping him from leaving headquarters, but when the man saw Arwen nearing the crate he broke through the barricade and rushed towards them.

"Arwen! Don't go close. It could be a bomb. Our specialists will handle it."

An officer with a blue feathered dragon on her shoulder walked up to the crate. The dragon hopped off, nostrils flaring, and circled the crate twice and squawked, shooting a small plume of fire out its mouth. The dragon arched its neck and opened its beak. The officer dropped a piece of raw meat down its gullet.

"All clear!"

She picked up the box, almost buckling from the weight that caught her unaware. The officer hesitated, then walked to the group instead of the evidence room. Maks stepped in front of Arwen.

"There's a note."

"What does it say?" Caspara asked.

"It's addressed to Arwen's Dog."

All eyes focused on Maks.

He adjusted his tie and said, "It's not proper protocol but may I open it?"

The officer nodded, "Certainly."

Maks cracked the lid.

A watch and a neatly folded map rested where the brains of the two severed heads lying on burgundy cloth should've been. A knife made deep jagged cuts in their hairlines but whoever mutilated them found that method too difficult and smashed their skulls with an axe and gripped the moist insides to rip their heads open, a crack splitting their noses. Trails of dark red tears from the silver ASSR badges jammed into their gouged eye sockets coated their cheeks. The crate trembled as the officer gasped for fresh air but inhaled more of that putrid smell.

Maks shouted, "I want a team deployed to the southeast border now! Send every station a coded telegram immediately."

Alter caught the crate and put it on the ground, embracing the officer.

Beyond the confusion and pandemonium, only Alter saw Arwen lift his arms and say with a cruel smile etched on his face, "Let there be blood."