"All of you need to take one more step to your left. Spread out." Decha motioned with his hands. Theodore had sent a large group of Agents to Council Hall where Decha could enforce security. The line of Generals followed his order and all moved aside, making the line wider.

"Don't let anyone through. Don't let anyone loiter around this perimeter. If you see or hear of any suspicious activity, let me know. Only the Council Members and chosen employees who work in the main office are permitted to enter and leave." Decha paced down the line of men, eyeing every single Agent fiercely.

"Check the IDs of everyone who walks through those doors. Their face, their eyes, and their hair must match the description on their cards. If one thing doesn't match, send them away. Every employee beforehand was told to match the criteria for today in advance. Search every bag before it is brought in." Decha stopped in front of a particular blonde Agent, whose eyes were flickering to their right nervously.

"Am I clear?"

"Yes, N96!" The group roared in sync.

"Everything is to be reported to me. I want this building so protected that a fly won't even be able to get through those doors. Do you understand?"

"Yes, N96." The guards repeated once more. Decha nodded and waved the guards off.

"Great. Keep an eye out. No slacking. Not one person will come inside without me knowing about it. Let's get to work." Decha brushed by two Agents who stood in front of the entrance and walked inside the building.

He radioed Jax, who was on the 10th floor, which was halfway to the top of the building. His shoes clacked against the fancy tile as he sauntered across the main floor and toward the elevator.

"N9899, what's your visual on F10?" Decha spoke through his watch.

"All clear from this level. There are Agents stationed at every corner. The angle may be flawed, but we have someone on camera to keep them in check."

Decha relaxed his shoulders, content with that answer. He stepped into an open elevator and pressed the highest number displayed, which was the top floor where the Council Members were located.

When Decha arrived at the top of the building, Chauncey Alan approached him. Decha stepped off the elevator and Chauncey grabbed onto Decha's forearm, stopping him from going any further.

"What's the meaning of all this, N96?"

Decha snatched his arm out of Alan's grasp and narrowed his eyes. Then he examined the hall, observing every Agent that was stationed in front of each doorway. "You're talking about the Agents." It wasn't a question. Decha confirmed Chauncey's attitude was based on all the security.

"I don't understand you. Tell me honestly, is this a front you're putting up?"

"A front?" Decha scoffed.

"You prance around acting all high and mighty, saying that you're putting our laws ahead of everything. You SAY you want to protect Astell, but is that what you want?"

"What are you trying to get at?"

"I'm questioning your motive. The culprit has been caught, but your biased behavior towards Bracketer's is causing you to make poor decisions." Chauncey hissed and gestured at the Agents.

"Recruiting a fourth of the Agency to stand guard at our building for nothing isn't a laughing matter."

Decha felt anger surge within him, but he decided not to give in to Alan's words. "The investigation isn't over. I'm taking precautions to protect you and the other members. If you have an issue with that, you can take it up with the Director. Stay out of my way, and let me do my job." Decha brushed past Chauncey, walking in the direction of where Jax was assigned.

"N96, are you mad in the head?" Chauncey spoke abrasively.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Decha, deciding not to look back, stopped and shook his head.

"What was it about my daughter that you didn't like? She's been raised extremely well according to Astellian law and has not committed any offenses. She is very graceful and strong. And her beauty does not compare to other Astellian women in our branch."

"I've never been interested in the thought of settling down, with anyone," Decha responded harshly, not wanting to go into full details about why he didn't get along with Abigail.

"What?"

"My work is very important to me. I don't focus on marriage or women more than I do on my missions."

"So, you have no interest in women?" Chauncey spat. His thoughts began to wander. If not women, could it be...? "Are men what you—"

"No." Decha could understand Chauncey's thoughts and stopped him before he could accuse him. "That's not at all the case."

"Then, why?"

"N926 is pushy. It's not her fault. Most Astellian women are that way. I've expressed to her many times that I don't have any interest in her. And she continued to pursue me because of a selfish attitude."

Decha looked over his shoulder. "Honestly, that was between me and her. My love life, who I'm interested in, who I choose to be with, it's none of your concern. Every General deserves his right to privacy." Finishing the conversation there, Decha stormed off.

He quickly reached for his watch and began to dial Antoine's number. Lately, he had been trying to get in contact with him to get more details about the tip. But it's almost as if Antoine was completely off the radar.

The phone number couldn't be traced back and Antoine had already relocated from his hideout.

Decha was suspicious of Antoine's disappearance and lack of communication, but he dismissed the worry under the thought of him being chased and choosing to stay out of sight.

As a holographic display appeared above the watch and began calling the number, it quickly disconnected. It's been doing that for a while.

Decha sighed and brushed his fingers through his bangs. "Come on, Antoine," He tried to call the number again.

"Still can't get into contact with him?" Jax frowned and stopped beside Decha. He looked over his shoulder to get a better look at the screen.

"Every call has been disconnected," Decha growled.

"Maybe his phone is turned off?"

"If that was the case, the dials wouldn't go through." Decha massaged his forehead. Decha was risking everything on this tip. His frustration grew knowing that the culprit was still out there.

Jax sensed his worry and clasped Decha's shoulder with a faint smile. "Don't overthink."

The words were simple, but they meant a lot. Decha wasn't openly voicing his concerns, but Jax was able to tell just how stressful it was for him.

"We've got Agents lined up at every corner of this building. If anyone tries something, we'll know for sure. Your setup has improved since the last time." Jax voiced politely, reassuring Decha.

Decha crossed his arms and looked away. "Thank you." He replied softly, so soft that Jax almost didn't catch it. Decha stepped away before Jax could giddily respond.

Jax felt amused by Decha's efforts to mask his gentle side. The two continued to pace back and forth down the hall for another hour or two. There was no news or ruckus. Decha's nerves were starting to itch.

Another hour went by. Jax came back from a bathroom break while Decha leaned against a wall to support himself. He was a bit tired. Lack of sleep was common for him, but he was exhausted from stress.

"Any word yet?" Jax frowned.

"None." Decha shook his head.

"Are you sure the tip was for this particular day?"

"The last message I received warned about a bomb occurring on today's date."

"... You don't think... the tip was false, do you?"

"No!" Decha hissed, not wanting to believe that Antoine lied to him. But deep down, he didn't know what to believe. "Shite, I don't know," Decha admitted and placed his face in the palm of his hand.

Jax didn't want him to feel discouraged. "Maybe this place is so heavily secured that we scared off any intruders."

Before Decha could respond, he felt the identity chip in his wrist buzz. Both Jax and Decha jerked up, more alert than ever. Decha glanced at Jax, puzzled by the feeling.

"Did you... feel that?" Jax coughed.

Decha nodded. It was the first time he felt bothered by his chip. "What the heck was that?" Decha mumbled, examining his wrist carefully. The chips surgically placed in a general's wrists were constructed to be used for pings, scanning, or even sometimes making purchases.

But they never made any weird movements.

Then, an incoming call display fizzed above Decha's watch. It was a call from Theodore's office. Decha didn't hesitate to answer. "Chen, we're still at the Council Hall—"

"Come back to the Agency, this instant."

"What?" Decha snapped. "You want me to head back now? We're still on guard—"

"There's no need for you to be there anymore. A bomb just went off Downtown."

Decha's eyes widened. He almost couldn't believe it. Had he miscalculated so badly?

"Downtown where?"

"The refugee camp."

"I'm on my way." Decha hung up and grimaced. "We need to head to the Agency. A bomb just went off downtown." He muttered to Jax before jogging to the elevator. Jax followed behind closely.

~~~

"The bomb went off at the Refugee camp at 3:06 PM. There were 47 deaths. All of them were Bracket Refugees. Fortunately, all of the Generals stationed there were unharmed."

The person giving the details about the tragedy was an Agent who worked in the Agency's current Intelligence Office. He was a mink, a low-ranked general that was placed in charge to give details to the director.

"How is that a good thing?" Decha spat at him.

"N96," Theodore grabbed onto Decha's shoulder, sending him a silent warning about his outburst.

"The Refugees were full of elderly and children! But we're batting an eye at many people being killed off because Astellian Generals survived?"

"N96, hold your tongue."

"Why are you so unbothered by this?" Decha snarled at Theodore. Decha was more than livid.

"Don't act out and try to pin blame on me, N96. This could've been prevented if it weren't for such a lousy tip you received. A fourth of my Agents are still at Council Hall because of your misjudgment."

Decha wanted to punch Chen in the throat for his words, but he was holding back. It wasn't right to strike the Director.

"We think this bomb is connected with the current culprit we have in containment. When we searched for fingerprints around the rubble, we found notes of complaints. Complaints toward the Council. We concluded that the bomb was done by a group of his supporters—"

"Now you're talking bullcrap." Decha sneered. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would a Bracket man bomb an entire shelter for the Bracket Refugees to camp? And without harming any of our Generals?"

"Because Bracketers are unpredictable." Amir's voice chipped in as he walked into the office. He was still a bit slow because he was still learning how to move around again. Being in a coma for a month sucked out a lot of his strength.

"Amir?" Decha furrowed his eyebrows as confusion crept up on him. "You're supposed to be in the infirmary receiving physical therapy, why are you here?"

"The same reason you're here, to finish this case." Amir seethed in return. It was very obvious that he was bitter toward Decha, but he couldn't put a pin on why.

"N95, it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm—" Jax began, but Amir rolled his eyes and dismissed him.

"Now is not the time to exchange pleasantries, Mink."

"Who are you calling a Mink?" Jax glared at Amir. He gestured toward the 14 pins on his cap. "I'm not a low-ranked mink, can't you count?"

"Enough," Chen butter in before their argument became heated. "N95 is still working on this case with you, N96. Don't forget that it was you who chose him to be your partner."

"Oh, I remember. But he needs to rest. It's too soon for him to start working—"

"Don't worry about me, Decha. I'd be more worried about yourself if I were you."

"What are you hinting at?"

"You've changed." Amir poked Decha in his chest. "You were never a man who had concerns about rest. You're a workaholic. Work is always more important to you than anything else."

"N96 is a dutiful guy," Jax came to Decha's defense.

"I'm not talking to you, N9899." Amir voiced venomously. "I know my friend well. Or so I thought."

"Amir—"

"When we're you going to tell me about the Bracket woman in your care, Decha? The same woman who acted suspiciously at Grandell. And now you've brought her into your home. I'm curious, why did you do it?"

"That's none of your business."

"It is if it involves keeping Sector A safe." Amir snorted. "It's all a front. They're playing with your head! Think about it. A bracket woman claims to want to better Astell with her tech, saying that she wants to help Astellians."

"Amir—" Decha tried to intervene, but Amir continued.

"She creates a machine that scans us, collects our data, and records. Then a bomb happens and wipes out the border. Let's all keep note that this woman created the same machine that was used to assassinate all those generals. I'm caught up with the events."

"Amir, you're wrong. POYO's original coding was removed, and—"

"And now, it's somehow operating by itself? It constantly appears and disappears. Then, when Astell finally catches the culprit, her father, you expect us to believe that he has no involvement, or isn't the actual culprit? The rotten apple doesn't fall too far from the rotten tree, Decha."

"Amir, Jamison ISN'T the culprit!" Decha shouted, annoyed by Amir's accusation.

"And how do you know? Because a Bracket woman said so?"

"No,"

"A bracketer gave you a tip, didn't they? To go to Council Hall?" Theodore questioned him.

"They did. But—"

"It's a front, Decha. The girl is messing with your head. You're a high-ranked general of Astell. You're smarter than letting yourself be fooled by them. They're doing this to you because they want to get away with it!"

"Again, you're wrong!"

"Then what's right, Decha? Why are you so against believing Jamison is the culprit?" Amir snapped.

"You don't even know the full story of what happened with Rory. Her machine was stolen and reprogrammed. Jamison is locked away here, and a bomb goes off. That means there is another culprit! You can't connect Jamison with the notes, because it makes no sense for Bracketers to wipe out their own! It's so obvious that the Refugees were targeted, and false evidence was left there to purposely frame him!"

"There you go again, defending them," Amir rolled his eyes.

"All of the refugees were wiped out, none of our generals, and you expect me to think that those explosives weren't placed intentionally? But this entire time, only Astellians have been targeted. So now you're saying they're against Astellians AND their own people?"

"Wait," Jax gestured to Decha. "If all the refugees were wiped out, and targeted, doesn't that mean Rory is potentially in danger?"

That made Decha's blood grow cold in seconds. He completely blanked out. It went over his head. The refugees were targeted, and Rory was a refugee too. She may have been alive, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't be targeted next.

"The bracket woman is still alive because she's involved in the whole thing!" Amir snorted.

"I don't think she is," Jax refused. "Rory isn't the type of person to do that. Regardless, Decha, N96, whatever. You should call home to check on her."

Decha nodded and took his phone out of his pocket. His phone would be easier to use than his wristwatch. He called Jessica, but there was no answer. Then he called the home number. It went straight to voicemail.

"Shite," He shoved his phone back in his pocket and walked out of the office. Amir followed him and so did Theodore.

"Hey, where are you going? We aren't finished!" Amir grabbed Decha by the arm, but it was quickly snatched away.

"Don't stop me!" Decha growled. "Rory might be in danger."

"You're going after her? Are you serious? We're in the middle of a discussion!" Amir roared.

"If Rory is in danger, so is my mother. No one is answering the phones. If something happens while I'm not there, I'll never forgive you or myself." Decha retorted. "Especially you, Chen."

"Go." Theodore waved him off. Not because he was concerned about Rory, but because he was concerned about Jessica and Avon.

Decha continued down the stairway that lead to the elevators in the main lobby. Amir was hot on Decha's tail. "We're not finished, Decha!"

"For now, we are." Decha tapped the button repeatedly, hoping that the doors would open soon.

"I don't get it. What happened to you after the border-collapse? Why are you acting this way?" Amir pressed persistently.

"Amir, I'm not in the mood to discuss it with you right now."

"YOU'RE not in the mood?" Amir scoffed. "I'm the one who shouldn't be in the mood! You took a Bracketer into your home, the same one who constructed a machine that kills Astellians, and when I woke up you didn't mention any of it to me! You practically kept everything else from me!"

Decha ignored Amir's debate and stepped into the elevator. "We can have this conversation later." Decha spat. Decha and Amir stood on opposite ends of the doorway. When the doors slid to a close, Amir crossed his arms, and Decha's icy glare was the last thing he saw.

The way home wasn't easy. Rather than taking a shuttle to his house uptown, he borrowed one of the Agency's pods. The ride was a straight shot and only took 30 minutes.

Fortunately, the front of the home looked like no one had forcefully intruded or tried to do anything. The Generals that were assigned to stand guard all around the house were still there. Decha felt a bit relieved, but he decided to check for himself just to make sure.

Decha ran, unlocked the front door, and let his eyes roam around the living room. The TV was on, which meant someone was watching before he came in. "Rory!" He called.

When there was no answer, Decha paced to the left and shouted her name down the hall that lead to her room. "Rory!" He called again, much louder.

Rory poked her head out of the bathroom. She was tying her hair back in a poofy bun but hearing her name being called made her pause. "Decha?" She raised a brow at him, wanting to know why he was back so early.

It was almost 7 PM. Decha usually didn't return or get off of work until midnight or afterward. Decha stomped toward her, not out of anger, but because he was anxious.

Decha stopped at the door and studied her. To see her there, unscathed, put him at ease. "You're okay." He stated with a soft sigh.

"Yeah," Rory nodded, confused by his reaction. She observed him. His shoulders were stiff and his face was soaking in sweat. Even his hair was damp and sticking to his head. "What happened? Did you run all the way here?"

"No." Decha masked the discomfort in his face with a faint smile. Rory was fine, and that's all he needed to know. "I'll head back—ugh."

A sharp pain throbbed in Decha's forehead. His right wrist began to tremble. The identity chip was vibrating violently, and Decha clenched his arm. "Shite!" Decha snapped and fell against the door frame.

Rory stared in horror as Decha pushed himself against the frame and began holding his head in his hands. "Decha," She murmured and touched his bicep. "Do you need to sit down?"