For a moment, all that she could hear was nothing.

For a moment, the world was a deafening silence. It was so silent one could hear a pin drop.

For a moment, she was temporarily deaf, and then her world began to unfreeze abruptly, and the sound of heart beating rapidly pounded and amplified in her ears. Her heart was beating, her body was working, but her soul and mind wasn't.

It was numb.

Only a string of a sentence replayed in her mind.

"Our informant is Jonek, and he will be helping us in our mission."

One sentence. Twelve words.

That was all it took for her world to come collapsing in a nanosecond. In that moment, those words were an eleven metre tsunami, heading towards her direction without stopping. She was nothing but a defenceless country, with not even a sea wall to protect herself from the impact of the tsunami. Predictably, the waves hit her without holding back, and annihilating her and everything she had in the process.

Alara could feel herself drowning in the sea, arms flailing as she tried to get help. Deprived of oxygen, she was suffocated, and tears brimmed in her eyes when it struck her how vulnerable and helpless she truly was. A part of her wanted to open her mouth to object to being subjected to such a death, but no words came out. Jumbled visions of faces swarmed in front of her, but she couldn't focus on them.

All she saw was an old, wizened face belonging to an elderly man. A man who would have fought for his life even if he was weakened by his arthritis.

Lost in her endless stream of thoughts, Alara became quiet and withdrawn. After Valesque's abrupt announcement, her comrades- especially Maren and Tania- had performed a comedic series of antics in an attempt to cheer her up and to engage her in conversation.

Normally, it would have worked. She would have been so tickled that there would have been no stopping her from laughing. Normally, she would have laughed till she cried. This time however, no matter what they did, there was not even a slight curve of her mouth inching up, let alone a single muscle budging even an inch. Eventually, her friends had given up and left her alone in her room.

I was a damned fool for thinking that I had succeeded in constructing an impenetrable fortress around my heart. I thought that I had enclosed it well, that nobody could ever tear it apart. I thought by wearing a mask and hiding my feelings, I was safe. I was certain that by putting a mask of contentment and patience, everyone would be fooled into being convinced that I was fine even when I wasn't.

Everyone fell for it.

Everyone except Jonek.

He always did whatever he could to get me to take it off. He would berate me harshly, make me work to the bone even in the coldest winters. He would kick me out too- once, he even starved me in the hopes of getting me back to my senses. Outsiders would say that he was inhumane and abusive, but his extreme methods worked for me.

I knew he would never have done this if I was myself, and that by punishing me, he was in excruciating pain too, for he loved me dearly. Jonek will never let me do anything that he found too dangerous or unwise, and he was my confidant.

And now, there are terror attacks planned in my hometown, where my Mama and godfather is. Yet I can't do crap about it! I'm so useless. I've even been trained for this kind of situation, yet I cannot do anything. I am a curse to everyone around me.

I'm a curse. Death and disaster come to those that I love. I'm a .

Alara fell to her knees and wept. Later, she would scream her heart out, and it still wouldn't be enough. Her heart was beginning to break completely bit by bit. But not know, not when it still clung on to hope.

The hope that her remaining family would be alive and well.

And in the wee hours of the morning after Alara met Valesque, she wordlessly took the files regarding Jonek's tip-off and threw herself into work as she vowed to herself that she would stop at nothing to catch those wicked criminals.

The clock was ticking at a merciless pace, and everyone knew time waited for no one. It didn't matter if you were rich or poor- time was something no one could ever buy. Like a spider spinning silk, clothes formed whilst her fingers made magic. Stitching relentlessly, she used the latest technology available to her to improve on her armours' fireproof, bulletproof and bomb proof qualities.

There was a certain burden to her task as the official seamstress and armour-maker in the Agency. Everytime she handmade clothing for her friends, the weight of the knowledge that if she failed in making proper protective wear, her friends could die because of her incapability.

That had happened to Gabe once, she thought, setting her needles down. He nearly died because of me.

An item that she hated designing and making most was the helm.

In her younger days, Rielle Malare was no genius. As an amateur, she had to learn the ropes just like anyone else, but when the Master of Crafts noticed that she was showing hints of natural talent of hand making clothes and armour as well as an eye for design, the esteemed Master of Crafts had taken her under her wing.

So obsessed with her gift was Master Claire that her maestra refused to acknowledge or even see her flaws, and only focused on her strengths. "You're one of the most gifted apprentices I've had in ages," her maestra had swooned, fawning over the swift progress she was making even as a beginner. "If only I had been blessed like you are..."

Naively, the young Rielle had let the continuous assaults of praise go over her head, becoming complacent and less diligent even when she was promoted to a higher position in the Agency.

Gabriel, who had been her friend and not her lover then, was one of the people that aided her to her path of fame.

It was also how they had met. Her fingers may have worked magic, but the Agency didn't just use traditional methods of sewing and blacksmithy. They used technology to improve on their amour, and Gabriel was an expert in that area.

He was the one who had taught her the technologically-savvy component of her training. Back then, the armour she created was incredibly weighty due to the heaviness of the steel that would be inserted into the clothing, but with Gabriel's help, she mastered the art of creating sleek and chic and comfortable armour.

Technology was perhaps the one great thing that came out from the massacre of the latter part of the 21st Century.

Nonetheless, when she was more grounded in her younger years as a rising Apprentice, Gabriel and her had gotten along well. He admired her diligence, and she, his brain. Before her arrogance possessed her, she had always taken into account his feedback for issues such as if the programme was functioning properly.

But when she let herself be trapped in the shower of praises, she turned a blind eye to his words.

She had never regretted anything more than doing that.

"Rielle, I'm telling you. If this chips off, we're doomed." Gabriel pointed to the lower part of the helm. "Anything can easily slit our throat during a mission."

"And I'm telling you, my maestra says that I-"

"Damn your maestra!" Gabriel thundered, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Ever since you've been promoted, you've become absolutely pompous."

"Pompous? ME? Very well, Riel. We'll see what happens in battle. I'm telling you, I'm not changing a single thing and you will not be injured."

How wrong she had been.

Gabriel, who was in charge of the technological department, needed more protection than ever. He was not only involved in the actual fighting itself, but also had the risky duty of defusing bombs.

On the day of the mission itself, Gabriel and her had gotten into a fight before he left for his mission.

"You have to trust in my skills! You'll be fine."

"You know, Rielle, it isn't just you not fixing it that I'm angry at. It's seeing you being like this that infuriates me. Where's the girl that I used to know?"

It was amazing how such simple words could pierce her heart.

Her heart stopped beating when Gabriel's limp body was brought to the field hospital where she was stationed at. When she was brought in, she knew things were severe as the only way she could contribute in terms of medicine was stitching people up.

Gabriel was the reason why she was brought in.

In more ways than one.

"Rielle?" Gabriel's seductively low voice pulled her out of her stupor.

"Gabriel!" She rushed into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"What were you thinking about? I've never seen you so stressed." Gabriel smoothed her eyebrows and kissed her gently.

"No, Riel," she assured him while embracing him tightly. "I'm just sleepy. Hold me, would you?"

"That," he murmured while hugging her amorously, a lovelorn expression on his face, "is my favourite thing to do."

Tears rolled down her cheek as flashes of deep cuts on Gabriel's neck and stomach flashed into her mind. Unaware of her internal purgatory, Gabriel snuggled in closer into her warm embrace, playfully drawing circles on her back.

While the scars may have faded, while Gabriel may not talk about it, the guilt of what I did will never leave me. Never.

Releasing herself from her love's embrace, she kissed his cheek. "I'm going to check for any faults with the armours now, my love."

"I'll come with you, Rielle. Rocks never leave each other."

"Okay, you goof. Okay."

She had just finished coating her weapons with a wide array of poisons from plants like the infamous Nerium oleander to the deadly Asclepias. It was no simple task but she had accomplished it anyway.

Tania had chosen the finest blades and arrows and coated them with the venom. However, even if one of her friends came into contact with the toxins, their gloves were specially customised using enhanced technology.

A microchip embedded- and sewn in by Rielle- ensured that the Ascendancy Agency never lost their location and once the chip itself detected poisons, it would trigger a hidden protective layer that had been coated with the anti-toxin, defending the wearer.

She was exhausted, but whenever she saw Alara trying to figure out the locations where the bombs were planted and talking to Jonek regarding the Amorals, she chose to persevere on and provide her comrades with the highest level of safety to the best of her ability.

And yes, Valesque had permitted Alara to in a sense 'reunite' with her only remaining kin left since Jonek's knowledge was instrumental to the case. Usually, agents' families were forbidden to see their families or let them come to the Agency until the agent had retired from their work. But in cases like these, exceptions were sometimes made.

Tania wondered how her friend felt, seeing her godfather again. Knowing her, I won't be surprised if she is furious. She has told me umpteenth times about how much remorse she still has over not being to rescue Ren, or find a miracle for her mother.

Yes, she must be infuriated. She would hate Jonek risking his all to help us out. I shudder to think what her reaction will be when she finds out that all her past salaries she earned all came from him too.

The harsh, discordant cacophony of the black-crowned night herons' echoed throughout the forest, and Alara couldn't help but feel ominously towards their mission.

Masses of people may perish if we don't succeed. A lot is weighing on our shoulders.

Nowadays, her main thoughts were fixated on figuring and preventing the impending catastrophe.

Recalling her criminology lessons, she thought of the methodology she had learned. She had to delve deep into the attacker's mind and force herself to scheme and plan the way an odious terrorist would.

Firstly, she had to piece together part of the UNSUB's personality together so that she'd have sufficient background to analyse. So far, she knew they were the Amorals. But what do they have to do with the bombs? Alara closed her eyes, and put herself in their shoes.

I chose this location, a rural area that is never on anybody's radar and unimportant. I planted three bombs throughout the town- was that move a random or specific one? Does it hold any significance? Did I choose to do it, or was it an order? If so, was it commanded by the Governors? But why?

The only reason I even have knowledge regarding this is due to an informant, a local elderly resident there who then passed it onto Valesque. What is his relationship to an inglorious head of the Agency?

At that thought, Alara shuddered. Apparently, a man who she had come to see as her godfather had been living a double-life, and never trusted her.

The very notion of him working with Valesque broke her heart but she ignored it, and instead marched towards Maren's room as he was the closest to the taciturn Valesque.

It was time for some answers.