The Masonry town. An area in the upper-class part of Excidium.

That despicable part was where Tania grew up in?

Alara had been shocked when Maren informed them of that, but she had managed to hide it. How, she did not know. All she knew was that she was thankful that her poker-face remained intact. Tania had once requested her to never ask her of her childhood, but now, more than her curiosity was piqued.

The need to know about Tania's childhood gnawed at her like a stubborn mosquito sting, but there was nothing she could do.

It was the only thing that Tania had ever asked of her. Just thing. Alara sighed when she made the choice to honour her promise to her and friendship over the knowledge of her childhood and how she ended up here. It's not like it'll help with finding Ren anyways.

Forcing herself to focus on her many tasks at hand, Alara packed her bag, preparing for the journey for Operation Ner. Her corners of her lips curved upwards when she recalled the moment when Maren had revealed the operation's name.

"It's a palindrome, darling. 'Ner' is 'Ren' spelled backwards."

Back then, when he had first announced that, it had completely caught her off her guard for she never expected that. She never expected Maren to mark their first mission that could really do harm to the Governors to be named 'Operation Ner' in Renald's memory.

She had thought he would name it something else, something that held more meaning for everybody. And yet, he had named it 'Operation Ner'. Is it just to honour Ren? Or does it mean something else?

Shaking her head at her dumb thoughts, Alara went searching for clothes appropriate for the mission. Dress lavishly, he had said, and to bring along my weapons too. He's such a guy- how am I going to hide weapons in gowns and dresses? That dimwit.

However, she obeyed him, and thus in went her jewels, dresses, her five-inch heels and her other clothing. She also brought along some essential herbs, poisons even as she was not sure what might happen.

As for her weapons, her daggers like her cherished bejewelled golden blade and curved copper dagger were packed in her bag too.

Gazing at the bejewelled blade, she started to reminisce fondly of the first time she saw it when Maren started their first training session together.

"You have to earn it," was what Maren had told her when he caught her eyeing the gorgeous blade. She had never wanted something just for herself that badly- and yet she was denied.

Instead of making an unnecessary fuss over it, she immediately set her mind on possessing it. After all, she had chosen selflessness over selfishness way too many times- and it was not going to happen again.

Alara had empathised with Maren as she felt that if she too was an expert fighter and had a weapon that was close to her heart, she would rather remain and have a saint-like patience and wait for the day where she could pass it on to deserving students.

That golden blade embedded with precious jewels was an item that she desperately craved and yearned for. The first wish of hers in a very long period that she allowed herself to want for. And to achieve it, she had to prove to Maren that she was worthy of that exquisite blade.

She remembered that she had put in every fibre of her being into her training, even pushing herself over her physical limits and boundaries, always fiercely chanting to herself, 'Never give up. Once you give up, the game's over, so never ever give up'.

And her efforts had paid off, for a year later, Maren declared that its new owner was her. "I am impressed by how diligent and tenacious you are, Alara. Ever since I told you that you had to prove yourself worthy of being its owner, you worked tirelessly. Your sincerity and zealousness are most commendable. In fact, I greatly admire your dedication in everything that you do," was what Maren had told her on the day he gave her the gleaming blade. His steel-blue eyes had shone with pride as he did so.

However, he was not the Maren she knew if he was only sincere- and as she suspected, he had cautioned her, "Your ambition can be both an advantage and disadvantage. While I don't want to sound like wise-old Valesque... Alara, sometimes being ambitious is dangerous. So please, go with your gut. If you ever feel that your ambition will cost you dearly, don't follow it, okay? Promise me that you'll weigh the pros and cons. ."

'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder' was an old adage, and he was certain that nobody could deny the spectacular glory that was Transcendence itself.

When not in invisibility mode, it was a sleek, gorgeous frost colour, and exuded a curious sense of wildness and sensuality- that is, if a car could be sensual. The windows were tinted a tasteful light shade of rose-gold and every part of the car was both bulletproof and fireproof.

The glass was unbreakable as the exterior of it was made of graphene glass while the interior was coated with palladium-based metallic glass. Thus it was practically unbreakable as even if the graphene was somehow smashed into smithereens- thought this was highly unlikely - the windows would only completely break off when the palladium metal was somehow dented or cracked.

The Transcendence was definitely one of a kind. Only Rielle and Gabriel had the knowledge of the whole process of manufacturing it and not even Valesque was clued in as the duo were extremely secretive regarding their esteemed invention. Thankfully, Valesque had pardoned them by citing that he could relate and understand them.

Though the lovebirds felt guilty after seeing Valesque's reaction, they remained secretive about their projects, never sharing the details of their projects. To get one's hand on even a teeny bit of information is to be considered as a major achievement.

While he hummed, Maren slung his pack of arrows across his shoulder, patting his leg to ensure that he had brought along his trusty spiral sword. These were all the weapons he needed as this combination had never failed him.

As for his equipment that was related to explosives, he had left Tania in charge of that to alleviate himself of that particular burden. In all honesty, Maren detested defusing bombs- he wanted no part in it as whenever he detonated one, the thought of the incalculable deaths that had been caused by them would surface in his mind.

After he had finished packing, a naughty thought crossed his mind and he decided to act on it.

Disturbing her would be such a joy.

"Did you bring your clothes?" He inquired while he assessed the items that she had decided to bring along. Picking up a dress, he wrinkled his nose. "Frankly, I am not even sure if you can even call these clothes. It's too stuffy and formal for my liking."

"I know," sighed Alara dreamily, "but we look marvellous in them." She narrowed her eyes, looking at him. "You're such a hypocrite, Maren. Didn't you say to dress lavishly?"

"That I did. Still, you can never deny that they are stuffy. Clothes fitted for combat have my eternal support."

"Maren Santos, did you come here to help or annoy me? Why are you here anyway?"

Ah ha! She's caught on! "Me? Come all the way here to pester you? Never! Abandon the thought."

Rolling her eyes, she threw a heel at him, and feigned being in great pain when the heel hit him in the knee.

"Woman, it's painful. Did you embed the heel with a nail or something? It stings!" Groaning, he blew air on the area, hoping that she would fall for his trick.

"You're acting, aren't you?"

Staying in character, Maren pretended to sulk, and it was not long before she rushed to his side, kneeling on the floor as she rubbed her hands together worriedly.

"You baby, let me see the wound. I'm sorry, by the way." Her chocolate brown eyes were so full of guilt that he couldn't help but break into a grin.

"By the way, I was acting." He leaned closer into her, his hands seeming to have a mind of their own as they brought her closer to him.

"You were?" Her voice was a breathy one, and the atmosphere suddenly changed. There was a tension in the air- a tension that he was unfamiliar with when it came to her- and they were inches apart.

Heart beating rapidly, Maren quickly let go. Alara, flustered, kept to herself and avoided looking at him.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, heading to the door. "Erm, we're leaving in two hours' time. Pack what you need, my... Alara."

Then he left like a bat out of hell.

Later, as his team settled into the luxurious car, he thought to himself, Alara, you look phenomenal in anything.

"Maren! I'm sorry, I never meant to!"

"Of course you didn't- you to!" He wailed, his heart trodden by the heartless creature who took the form of his love. "I trusted you, and you betrayed me! WHY?"

Illeria sobbed as she sank to her knees. "I'm sorry, please, Maren." She clutched on to his hand tightly. "I love you. You know I do."

"Love?" He spat ferociously, drinking her pain in like sweet honey. "Darling," he used the endearment sarcastically, smirking when she flinched visibly, "yes, you love me. I know you do, because apparently, when you love somebody, you do anything. You take that into consideration, right? You do everything to make your partner happy, right?"

Illeria nodded her head in desperation, still holding on to him tightly, fearing that he would leave her.

And she was right.

He would.

"OBVIOUSLY, MURDERING MY BROTHER WILL MAKE ME HAPPY! How could you, Illeria? What are you really?"

"Maren..." She murmured his name, kneeling on the floor. "Please don't leave me. My love for you is-"

Unable to hear anymore, he left, slamming the door.

He woke up with a gasp. His hands were clammy with sweat and he instinctively unsheathed his blade, feeling on the edge. When it dawned upon him that he was in the decadent state-of-the-art car and that the stage of packing and all that, Maren sighed, feeling fatigued. That day still haunted him... the traitor's false words... his biting remarks...

Calm down, we still Operation Ner to finish. Focus, Maren, focus.