"Killing is wrong. That is, unless you killed someone to defend your loved ones, family or country, it is wrong. Torture is never right. Never use it as a method to obtain information, Maren."

"If torture is never right, why did you allow that man- Mallory- to harm a harmless kid? Why?" Maren argued against the voice inside his head.

"You will be a great agent, Maren. You will be- but only if you focus on the right things."

"Is your focusing on killing Renald going to make you a greater leader? How can you be such a hypocrite?!" Maren panted as he knocked the boxing bag over and over again, imagining it was Valesque who he was beating up.

Ever since he had agreed to join Alara in ruining Valesque, his heart had hardened. The moment he agreed was the death of a part of the innocent, younger Maren Santos.

The young Maren Santos would never have even entertained the thought of betraying Valesque, for the young Maren was one of his victims that Valesque had slyly brainwashed. The younger Maren was a fool who trusted people too easily, but the current Maren was not.

The new Maren Santos could now see through lies and make better choices.

In a way, he was upgraded, for he now had greater wisdom than he had before. Experience was the mother of life, he decided as he dealt the punching bag more blows.

___

Once upon a time, if he ever found a certain golden-brown haired girl standing outside a room that he had previously occupied, it meant bliss and good things to come.

Now, it means gloom and doom.

"Alara. I doubt you're coming here for boxing. Anything the matter?"

She flashed a small smile and fidgeted with her ring. "Maren. The transcript that I had read was apparently only the first transcript. I honestly didn't know that Renald would have told Sophos more things after that session-"

"Wait. Is he still undergoing counselling?" Maren could not help but probe, as he felt that it was his duty when it came to the child. After all, if it hadn't been for- no, don't go there. He bit his lip tightly, hoping that Alara wouldn't notice. Luckily- or maybe not- Alara remained too perturbed to notice his strange behaviour.

"Sophos gave me another transcript." She handed him a seemingly harmless envelope. "My mother seems to be the actual head of the Agency."

Upon hearing that, Maren dropped the envelope. "What on the holy Earth did you just say?"

"My mother. She's the real head of the Agency. Valesque seems to know so much about this, Maren. I know I'm asking so much of you but-"

She did not have to finish her sentence for him to guess what her request would be. She wanted to get to the bottom of this and there was only one way to find out the truth.

He knew what that meant well.

She wanted to confront Valesque and settle things once and for all.

"You want to confront him." Coming from Maren, that statement was something that she had never expected to hear from him. Both she and Maren were well aware of the results of saying such a sentence- once it was said, it would be done. It was one of those unspoken but known rules people had with their close friends, and this statement adhered to this solemn rule.

"Yes." Her voice was so full of certainty that she was confident that Maren knew that there was nothing he could do to get her to change her mind. And he wasn't going to try either. Instead, Alara had a gut feeling that this time round, he would just support her and give her all the things she required. I am sure that Maren knows that what Valesque is doing is immoral. Even if he wishes he was blind to this fact, he can't be because he isn't like that.

"Very well."

"Thank you, Maren. I mean it. Thank you."

Clothes are another form of battle-wear.

For her last visit to Valesque, she was not going to wear the standard Agency uniform to confront him; instead, she would be wearing another of the lovebirds' ingenious innovation: a modest purple sheath cut dress that exudes power.

The lovebirds' own handcrafted blades were surprisingly light in terms of weight and paper-thin but lethal. Somehow, the blade was designed to recognise the owner's thumbprint. Due to this recognition software that was somehow embedded in the blade, she would never accidentally nick herself. The blade was only made to injure others except her. It was why she had no worries when she placed them on the inside of her dress.

Maren's battle-wear was similar to her's except that it was a tuxedo that emphasised on his muscles and tall build. It was a darker shade of purple and Maren looked sinfully dashing in it. He had chosen the same weapons as her, but instead of short knives, they were long daggers.

"Are you ready?" He asked her.

"I am. Watch my back, will you?"

"Oh I'll watch your back for sure." he teased, in an attempt to brighten the sombre mood. She blushed and punched him roughly. His eyes sparkling a little, he laughed but then his tone changed to a serious one when he vowed, "Yes, I will. Whoever tries to harm you will have to get past me first."

Whoever tries to harm you will have to get past me first.

She held onto his promise as desperately as a kangaroo hangs on to its mother. Despite the intimidating facade she always put on, she was a bundle of nerves. She had never been more grateful for Maren's insistence on coming with her so that he could stand alongside her. What have I done to have such a loyal friend?

She had brought the enhanced version of Nerium oleander that she had hid in her skirt. She knew that if there came a need for her to attack him, he may use whatever he had up his sleeve against her. And if Renald was one of his weapons, she wanted to be prepared. I would rather Ren die than him being tortured again.

As she stepped into his office, she scanned the room with a critical eye, and finally saw for herself what this room really was: a lair where Valesque could plot the downfall of his rivals with his lawless partners. A place where he thought of himself as a puissant man, even when he was not.

Now, she knew that the jewel-studded and golden dragon statuettes positioned at the very front of the room were not mere adornments, but likely items that symbolised Valesque's deepest yearnings- power that would make people respect and regard him as a mythical being due to his greatness.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you here." Valesque greeted as he would normally, even flashing her a disarming smile. His eyes surveyed her attire curiously. "I've never seen this before. The material looks exquisite." His tone was an edgy one and held a hint of malice. It was why she had opted to wear this- she knew she would get a rise out of him by wearing it for he loathed not knowing every single thing going on at the Agency.

"Forget the pleasantries. We all know why I'm really here." Alara adduced as she placed the sweet briar flower on his desk.

Back when she had first discovered it, she had been immersed in her fantasy that Renald was experiencing his first love to really see for it truly was: a weapon. If she hadn't been so blind and hopeful, she would have been more alert.

She only returned to his bedroom and gave it a closer inspection when Renald seemed to be weaker a few days later. She had suspected the flower as it was the only thing in his room that had not been inspected by her. Ever since she had read the first transcript, she had started to grasp the true extent of pain her brother had been through and made him her very first priority.

Her fear that Renald would be used as someone's pawn during his time in the Agency grew when she realised that there was a curious scent emitted from the flower. To prevent Renald from getting upset, she had replaced the flower with a similar-looking one from the garden as the flower was something that was near her brother's heart.

She had removed the real 'gift' as she wanted to find out what the scent was, if it was something toxic or if she was just being paranoid. Her doubts proved to be true when even after using Tania's tools, the only thing that she knew about it was that it was untraceable. That was all it took for her to have a good idea of who the sender was.

Someone with a lot of power, money and resources.

"This is from you, isn't it?"

"You say 'it' like it's poison. Do you not like it?" Valesque injected a tone of concern as he addressed her, making it appear as if he truly cared about it.

"It's poison, isn't it? You did something to Loianna too. She gave this to Ren and is somehow convinced that you never passed this rose to her. I know you did. This has you written all over it!" seethed Alara.

"You're right. And it's been with Ren for almost a week." His smirk malevolently. "It won't be long."

"It won't be long? What do you mean by that?" queried Alara uneasily.

"His death."