Everything was not as it should be. There were seldom times where he could not control external factors or use those to his advantage but this was one of them.

There were reasons why he had kept Alara Berrera near Maren Santos. Why he gave her more missions than he usually would to newer agents.

There was a reason for it all. If it weren't for her...

Alara Berrera had read the damned transcripts. Damn Sophos.

"WHAT?" thundered Mallory, his blanch skin suddenly changing to a colour of a fiery red.

"Alara Berrera has read the damned transcripts." He had purposefully made his tone appear to be disconcertingly aplomb and placid, as if he was not flustered by the situation. As if he was unbothered by this.

But Mallory knew him well. He knew this was all a facade, that he was donning a mask, that he was trying to remain poised to avoid revealing his even an inkling of his true emotions.

He was a little irritated at himself by using the word 'damn'. Outsiders would have dismissed the usage of it as a minute and seemingly insignificant, but not Mallory. It was why Mallory had flinched- he was now aware of the vexation that was threatening to explode within him.

"Has she read all of it? If the boy really did disclose everything, I imagine that those bits of information would break her heart. It is not information that is plain sailing to digest." Mallory stood tall, arrogantly content with his work. Perhaps I was wrong about him knowing me well.

"No, she has not," Valesque responded flatly. "That is one aspect which you have exceeded expectations in. Outstanding job."

"We have to get our hands on it fast. Surely Sophos has a separate copy..." remarked Mallory.

"We don't. Sophos is one of those rare individuals who takes the 'confidential policy' seriously. Whatever the boy avowed to her, everything is in Alara's hands. Again, hiring her was your decision. You're the one who is always giving me problems." Valesque leaned forward and continued deriding, "Let her know the full truth. We'll give her four days and get rid of her afterwards." His once unflappable posture vanished, substituted by a disdainful smile promising malice to anyone who dared to cross him.

"And the boy?" interjected Mallory.

"He is yours to do with what you desire to- but end him this time." professed Valesque. And when you return to me, glowing with joy, I will end your useless life too. Valesque thought to himself and hid a grin when a new idea came to him. "I have started using the rose on him. He has caused me much vexation too." He continued, drinking in Mallory's look of displeasure like honey.

"Very well," he agreed reluctantly. If he had a bit of gumption and dared to negotiate with him, Valesque may have a bit of respect for him. But Mallory was no exception to his staff- they all knew well that they deserved death if they served him wrongly.

As he left via the back door, the dragon statuettes turned their heads straight, signalling that the secret entrance was now sealed shut and invisible. He closed his eyes, relishing the quiet but opened them when he thought he heard a cry.

Expeditiously, he opened the door. Yet there was no hint of anyone eavesdropping on him. Besides, even if there was, nobody could have discovered their plans as his office was soundproof.

Satisfied, he sank back into his comfortable massage chair, planning Alara's death in his mind.

'In shock'. A phrase that meant sudden or emotional disturbance.

He finally knew what it really meant. He wished he didn't.

Valesque had always been a father-figure to him. He had been the one that had personally trained him in areas of combat and others, but he was more than that. He had gone on outings and went out with him for leisurely purposes. He had always admired him, admired the way he handled things, his unfailing professionalism and being tough when the situation required it.

He hated Gabriel's rare gift for making inventions. If Gabriel never had it, he would never have heard what Valesque had said to Mallory. His world would not have come crashing down.

All it took was a silver cufflink to reveal the truth to him. He was astounded by the amount of information that it could transmit, and relieved that it was in his and Alara's hands. If it was in the wrong hands, sensitive information could be used for all the wrong reasons.

Shortly after Alara learnt the truth about what Renald had endured during his time as a 'gift', she had entrusted the contents of his late friends' secret documents of their inventions. In the chest were not only detailed explanations of how to reproduce them, but also a small number of the actual models of their inventions. The silver cufflink was one of them.

The cufflink was somehow able to infiltrate even the most soundproof of walls which was why he was able to successfully eavesdrop. He had done it to prove Alara wrong, yet it ended up being the opposite.

She was right. She always is.

"You know that Gabriel and Rielle didn't fully trust Valesque right? And now... I know that I can't either." Alara had argued with him earlier when they were debating if they should use the gadgets against his father-figure.

"Why? Can't you just trust in him? Who helped your mother recover? Who gave you the opportunities to master the skills that you have now? Who helped your family financially? Remind me, Alara." he had bickered back sarcastically.

"Who made me risk my life countless times for missions that now, when we think about it, seem sketchy? He never explained in full of why we had to do it; he would just provide a vague one and feed us words we wanted to hear.

He would always console us whenever somebody passed away; praise us when a mission was successful; encourage us when we were dejected. Something just doesn't sit right with me, and I'm going with my gut. After what I read... Maren, please." Alara had beseeched, and it was only then when he verily saw the dark, sunken eyebags and pale pallor of her face that he backed away.

She was obviously enervated due to constantly doubting and suspecting everyone. No doubt she was frazzled by the mentally taxing happenings too. Alara yearned for a break, and so did he.

He had stayed silent for a few moments, but had defended Valesque till the end. "You have no proof of any illicit thing he has done-" he had retorted, and Alara's response was to throw the documents at him.

The same documents that she had been grasping when she slept in his arms. The same documents that seemed to suck the life out of her.

Even though his heart told him to let it be and ignore it, he went against his gut and read it. Curiosity didn't kill the cat. Curiosity killed him.

It turns out that Gabriel and Rielle were right to be on their guard with Valesque after all. I've always placed him on such a lofty pedestal and now, seeing him for who he really is, . It hurts so much. It really does.

Sometimes, to truly understand something, one had to experience it too. That was another lesson that he had learnt as he read it. His world had collapsed in that instant, and he knew it in his heart that this needed to come to a definite end. The puzzle was finally pieced together and not a single one was missing.

He hated that while in the process of piecing the puzzle, he had realised how much of a fool he was. Of how much of an idiot he was to have placed his trust in Valesque without seeing who he really was.

His hero, his father-figure, was just a fantasy. Something he always wanted, but never had. A fantasy.

"I guess I was never meant to have a father. Or a family."

Maren Santos was never like her. He was of a purer heart and soul and had never really experienced what she had. Yes, she was cognizant of his own personal demons that he chose to keep secret, but she knew it was not of the extent of her suffering.

Or of Renald's.

This- Valesque's betrayal- would be traumatic for him - that much she was aware of. After all, Valesque's and Maren's relationship was something that no one else in the Agency had experienced, let alone shared.

"I'm sorry." She said, as she leaned down, meeting him at his eye level. He looked away, his eyes examining the marble floor as if it was something fascinating. Holding his hand gently, she continued, "I'm sorry that your fantasised version of Valesque did not materialise. I'm sorry that he would do this, even when he knows how you feel about Renald and I." At that, he met her gaze, as if to say, Oh, you're aware of this, are you?

Guilt pierced her heart as she recalled how impatient and horrid she had been with him ever since Renald was returned to her. No, if she was to really admit to herself, her mistreatment of him had been happening since Operation Endgame. It was Tania that had divided them and caused a rift to gradually form between them.

"Maren... I..." Her impassioned speech came to a halt, and she was at a loss for words. "I... I'm sorry." She sat back against the wall and sighed. "I never thought that you would not side with me. I was stunned when you became torn between Tania and I."

"You've been an utter ass, Alara, for lack of a better word. But I guess I could tolerate it because I know how chaotic your life is. I guess I can sort of relate to you now." He fumbled with his fingers, and looked at the cufflink. "I can't believe Valesque. That he's collaborating with this... this Mallory. That what I've been working for have been a lie all these while."

She had never loathed herself than that moment. She seized the chance, and pleaded, "I'm sorry that I'm asking you to do this, Maren. To help me ruin him. You know that we need to pick a new head for the Agency. I believe that this organisation can do so much more with the right leader. I sincerely trust in us that we can find someone dedicated to better Excidiums' lives with no selfish agenda or gain.

So please, Maren. Please."

She saw the self-loathing, the conflict, the torment in his steel-blue eyes. But she knew him. Maren Santos was like her, wanting to give Excidiums a life. A life where they overthrew the Governors' oppressive and unfair rule, where they used their money to educate Excidiums and give them a better life. Like her, Maren wanted to reveal the cunning and wicked schemes of the Governors- mainly where the 'blessings' and 'gifts' really came from- and to provide equality for everyone.

In a life where everyone had proper education, food, where people were equal and co-existed harmoniously.

A utopia for all.

When Maren finally uttered the word, 'yes', it was so soft that she almost didn't hear it. But she did, and that was all that truly mattered.

Now, vengeance could finally be served.