A clash of daggers clanged fiercely as both the Commander and Alara fought for their lives. Both knew that it would be a fight to the death, and she knew time was not on her side as the Commander had commanded his men to defend him.

By doing that, it was basically a call-to-action; it was an alarm that he had raised as by defending him, a man elected as Commander by the Governors, his men were basically fighting on behalf of the Governors'.

She had no one.

Unless she wanted to risk her friends' lives, she could not even ask for their help as it meant that the others' cover would be blown. If that happened, Operation Endgame would have turned out the same way Operation Ner did- a complete and utter failure.

I guess this proves that no amount of money can buy success. Success comes from sheer will and belief in yourself.

"SHE'S MINE! SHE IS NEVER YOURS TO KILL; SHE IS MINE!"

What. The. Heck.

Alara turned her head around briefly, and her jaw dropped when she saw Sicarius charging towards the Commander, his body language indicating that he was ready to kill him. His jaw clenched as his hands grasped his sword, ready to plunge it in the Commander's neck.

Unsure as to whether Sicarius was trying to create a diversion to help her, Alara made sure that she was on guard and seized the opportunity to finish the Commander once and for all. Shifting her position into one that allowed her easy access to plunge her copper dagger into the Commander's torso, she stabbed him viciously while Sicarius and the Commander were currently engaged in a chokehold.

The world was silent save for the trio.

Her whole being focused on the two men, she riposte her bejewelled blade into the man's neck, but was left defenseless after the Commander used his remaining strength to flung Sicarius's body on her as if he was nothing but a rag doll.

Blood splattered all over them as blood started squirting out from his torso and neck. The Commander's pallor was paler by the minute, and Alara knew that she hit a major artery when she used her bejewelled blade.

But that did not stop him.

It was as if after knowing he was about to meet the Grim Reaper that it gave him a phenomenal strength. He was unstoppable as he removed her blades as he advanced towards her. With nothing but her fists left, Alara landed the first blow on him, causing him to stumble. Knowing that her chances of survival were slim as the blades were likely to penetrate the armour, Alara feigned left, dodging his rain of attacks.

In the process, a protester was slaughtered. Nevertheless, Alara continued on, sidestepping him and grabbing a nearest blade from a protester. "HEY!" The woman cursed, but there was no time for apology. Thanks to her, he was injured on his torso, and she used his weakness to her advantage. Grabbing the blade with both hands, she widened her stance and slashed the blade across the Commander's torso.

She had delivered the coupe de grâce with that simple move.

He fell, and she smiled.

She leaned down to retrieve her beloved her daggers when she felt a piercing pain inflicted in her stomach. Groaning, she gasped when she saw a pointy tip of a long, silver sword penetrating her stomach.

She fell, facing directly at her attacker.

It was Sicarius.

Alara was lost.

He had no idea where she was, but the moment he registered Sicarius screaming that Alara was his to kill, a sense of urgency coursed through him. He had no idea where she was, and was only certain of the fact that she was swallowed by the crowd.

Everywhere, bodies fell and pools of crimson blood splashed across the formerly pristine mansion. Common blades and rough edged swords decorated the garden; a man- likely a protester, Maren guessed, for he lacked protective gear- had his limp corpse hung over a statue of a mother hugging her child. The protester's blood trickled down the statue, giving the appearance of the mother crying tears of blood.

The tears of blood that every mother of the low and poorer middle classes have cried when they lost their children.

The blood they can never have back.

He weaved through the crowds, ignoring the pain inflicted in his body as people stabbed him right and left, for he was desperate to find his partner.

Besides, the wounds are likely to be small cuts.

"ALARA!" He thundered her name as he scanned the crowds, searching for a girl with chocolate brown eyes and golden-brown hair.

That was when he saw her, courageously trying to take down two men at once.

He beamed when he saw her succeed in killing a burly man, but the grin fell when he saw another attacker impaling her with a long blade, clearly aiming for heart in his next blow.

His heart felt like it had been ripped out, and an agonising pain in his heart that he had never felt before came over him wave after wave. It was intolerable.

"ALARA!" He yelled, but she lay still on the ground, lay still in a growing pool of crimson blood.

"ALARA!" He charged for her attacker, and he was enraged at himself when he realised it was Sicarius. Sicarius had no time to change the focus of his attacks and dropped his blade, choosing to rain blows on Maren's body.

Maren used all of the emotions and unleashed them all on Sicarius's body, alternating between blows to the stomach, groin and neck. When Sicarius tripped over his own blade, Maren got into a position that was poised to kill, but halted when Alara Berrera got up and slit the man's throat.

She could not believe the scene unfolding before her very own eyes. Is Alara Berrera alive? Is the woman immortal or what?

No. No one is immortal. If the Assassin cannot take her down, I will.

Everything I deserve is mine once she dies.

"Alara! No!" She yelled, injecting concern into her voice, putting on a pretense that she was unaware that she was fine. She charged towards Alara, plunging her knife into her knee but gasped when a blade swiftly jerked for a sweep, and her attacker swiftly withdrew after he had penetrated somewhere near her heart.

A tear slipped out of her eye when she saw a look of horror on Maren's chiselled face.

I can't die like this.

Gathering the remaining strength she had left in her, she took her blade and slashed Alara's arm.

Everything was happening so fast that she could not keep track of things. She was occupied with fighting two men, and punctured one's lung while lacerating the other's leg with her free hand, dumping him on the ground as he yelled his last curse.

Grinning, Tania allowed herself a moment to breath before scanning for her friends. When she caught sight of Eli struggling with three men, her heart skipped a beat as she knew that if one of them was not disposed of, Eli would die soon.

When the other attacker used his free hand and aimed for Eli's exposed stomach Tania knew she could not just stand back and watch Eli die.

Besides, I am already dying, thanks to Alara's lethal poison.

Running to Eli, she tried desperately to push him out of harm's way, only to end up taking the fatal stab for him.

"TANIA!" yelled Eli in a guttural cry. Enraged, he callously strangled her attacker to his death.

But it was too late.

Blood gushed out of Tania's stomach and soon she lay in a pool of crimson blood. "I guess there's no need for the antidote now," she grinned feebly as blood drizzled out of her mouth, her face pale as her ivory ring.

"Tania, I'm so sorry." Eli's voice shook as he tried to control his emotions.

"Don't be. My last act is a good deed. I saved your life."

"That you did." Eli sobbed, holding her hand.

"I never thought that I'd see the day Elioenai Seibert cries." Tania tried to joke to console the poor boy.

When it was clear her attempts had failed miserably, she sighed, and focused on ensuring that her last request was made, that she would get a promise for it.

"Eli, everything I've done is for my family. Eli. Please, Eli," Tania suddenly grasped his hand tightly, "please watch over them for me. If you can't, tell Maren to. Their reputation is the only thing saving them from living on the streets. Please?"

"I promise."

With that, Tania smiled brightly, but it soon dimmed when Death whisked her away from the land of the living.

She knew she was dying. She could feel it in her bones.

She only knew that she was in Maren's arms because she could see and feel him cradling her out of harm's way. To her, it was beginning to feel like he was the last person to see her off.

I guess I was destined to die in battle. Destined to die alone.

My one regret was never being able to reunite my family. Well, I guess I have two- that I never really got what I wanted- my family, my happiness and Maren.

She knew she was at Death's door when she heard the sound of a boy's voice. When she turned her head to look at him, he looked like someone who somehow impossibly looked both familiar and unfamiliar, screaming her name.

I must be in the afterlife, or wherever the dead go when they pass on.

Yet her gut was telling her that it was him. That she should trust her heart this time instead of her heart.

And so she turned to look at the boy again, but before anyone could do anything, blasts erupted at every corner of the mansion and road- it was obvious that the protests had escalated to a new high.

As the ground began rocking, everyone dropped their weapons and began running for lives. Unfortunately for them all, the explosions eclipsed their futile attempts and that was when Alara's world turned black, the memory of the boy gone along with her.