●　● Recoleta District, Buenos Aires, Argentina

From the balcony of a ritzy high-rise tower, a slender, well-groomed man in his early forties leaned against the glass patio door as he stared out into the horizon. The sun had already set, leaving just enough glow to make out the ocean from the sky. He occasionally checked his watch as if awaiting someone’s correspondence, and after some time, walked up to the ledge and looked over to a nearby port. The city lights shone brightly, especially having earned the best night-life city after taking it away from Rio de Janeiro just before the Second Earth-Space War more than a decade ago.

He let out a sigh as if something left him thoroughly disappointed as he continued gazing out into space. And as he turned to reach for his drink he left on the patio table, his watch lit up and quickly earned his full attention.

[Where, and what time?] he sternly spoke into his earpiece he had quickly tapped on, turning his head to await a reply.

[Schwartzmann Plaza, but he postponed his arrival until further notice,] the man on the line calmly responded.

He let out an even greater release of discontent, falling into the empty chair behind him. After a pause in thought, he continued speaking: [I guess we can’t rush things knowing how he works. But…] He started with a confused chuckle. [Why the Schwartzmann? What the hell ever happened to keeping a low profile?]

[That’s the thing,] the voice over the line spoke more casually. [I think he’s slowly switching platforms, but he did mention needing to talk to you sooner. He said he’ll contact you tonight.]

[Hmph,] the man leaned further back into his chair, turning his head back out to the city view. [Knowing at what ungodly hour that may come, well, I guess I sleep outside tonight.] He tapped his headset to end the call as he reached over toward the table to grab the drink he thought to take earlier before being interrupted. Despite his thirst, it didn’t go down well, overly anxious about his upcoming meeting that was now sent back into the unclear and the unknown.

He leaned back once more, and after another fruitless glance at his watch, he began fidgeting with the wristband. And as his thumb ran under the strap buckle, it bumped into his chip incision site scar, reminding him of a heavy, difficult past he was still to this day trying to rectify. As his reminiscing carried on, a distant buzzing sound would slowly encroach on his conscious awareness, causing him to jump up and run inside, sliding the door open with one fell push and making a dash for the living room sofa just in front.

He grabbed a small, black, peculiarly shaped device from his shoulder bag he had left there from earlier and quickly depressed the small button in the center, looking back toward the patio door he left open. [Yes?]

“Secure location,” a digitally masked and distorted voice quickly spoke up.

“Yes, the location is already secure,” he promptly replied in his slightly burdened accent, quietly closing the patio door and took a seat in the same spot as before. He then took a deep breath and swallowed, feeling his chest tightening from nervousness.

“Confirm identity,” the incoming voice chillingly continued.

“Adrian Liotta, ‘F zero one two’.”

“Room 607, tomorrow at 10 PM. Make certain to have Representative Orsi with you.”

He was already nervous enough as was to take the call, but when he heard his comrade’s name from the previous phone call mentioned just then, something hit that uneasiness shockingly hard, drawing an awkward pause. “I need confirmation, too, before I agree to bring him.”

The following pause had him fearing the worst. “November Echo two three nine. Don’t mention my name.”

A rush of built-up tension left his lungs as the call abruptly ended as if he were afraid someone’s life was on the line if it were an impostor or a setup. “Reaper,” he mumbled under his breath, putting the communicator away in his back pocket. [Why do we always have to work this way? When can we change?] He then swiftly entered a code into his watch before reconnecting his earlier call. [Listen, he just contacted me like you said he would. From now on, only call me through this channel. We meet tomorrow, 607, 10 PM. This is going to be the big one.]

[I would really like to think so, but watch it, even on this channel,] Orsi quickly answered with equal enthusiasm mixed with anxiousness. [We can’t ever assume Rex’s Underground isn’t snooping around or trailing right behind.]

[Right, same goes for that group from Bahia Blanca we caught sniffing around town this week. A lot of shit could go down faster than we ever expected.]

He wrapped up the call, finally able to breathe a bit easier, but more and more recent events flooded his thoughts, piling onto the stress. [Well, damn. I couldn’t bring myself to tell either of them about the updates on the stolen Project Excalibur piece. Whatever it was called… Curtana, I think. That’s what I really need to confirm before tomorrow’s meeting. I’d better go do some digging.]

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●　● Hexa Central HQ, Akkadia One, Eden Space Territories

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A flurry of incoming news updates popped up across the holographic display zone at the center of the board of directors’ office. “Why are we still seeing these?! Leaks keep happening left and right since day one!” Lucian shouted from his seat at the board’s table with all of the others present, including Vincent Vrey himself.

Vincent, however, didn’t sense such urgency as he continued scanning the titles of each information update on the Hexa PK-01X ‘Curtana’, described as a shocking, unexpected theft from an outfit any average person could assume to be invulnerable to such.

“The Earth-side outlets were already having a field day!” Mugen joined in alongside Lucian’s concern.

“I get that, but this is still a non-military issue, nothing to lose our focus over!” Nabransky chimed in, attempting to cull the tension as no one noticed or paid heed to the ringing of Vincent’s mobile. “We just need to focus on nipping this in the bud and get the damned thing back! Forget the leaks, moles, whatever, so we can focus on finding out if our sources confirmed anything on our potential culprits!”

“I did,” Vincent unexpectedly interjected, still as calm as earlier, putting away his mobile. “We still need a tiny bit more verification, but it seems our culprit is in fact the so-called ‘Angel’ character.” He used his pointer to click away the news screens and brought up a portfolio he had started on the list of culprits, opening one set labeled ‘Angel’.

“Angel? She’s still on the list- but sir, no one would believe us even if it was her! She’s a two-time Union war hero for crying out loud!”

The news had every member aside from Vincent quite unsettled, leading many to look upon the files in disbelief. And under one of the dossier files listed Angel’s credentials as: Amelie Delacroix.

“She disappeared a good while back, right before Project Excalibur went underway in the Philippines,” Vincent continued, leaning forward over his clasped hands. “I found that out through those watching Mr. Knight’s movements closely, and this leads us to believe much bigger, direction-changing things.” He waited for the dossier screen to finish automatically scrolling down before reaching the bottom. “You all know very well that after the 1st war, Angel here never got herself directly involved with the Union’s old infiltration network unless family was involved.”

“You mean, she’s trying to do something for her daughter, Samantha?” Lucian asked, perplexed. “But that makes no sense!”

“Damn it to Hell,” Mugen butted in as if he got hit by the bomb Vincent had just subtly dropped. “You mean to tell me that is where her son disappeared off to? He’s possibly with the Underground!?”

Vincent nodded in uneasy affirmation. “We have to pay extra close attention to our intel work this time, much much more than before,” he continued, trying to keep his own biases and emotions in check. “We may be uncovering much more than we ever expected to, and this last leg of our operation must succeed at all costs. And with the Galatine and Arondight still not ready for operation we can NOT afford to get caught even the slightest bit unprepared, knowing how dangerous the Curtana will be in the wrong hands.” He then looked across the table with a heavy brow. “We need to find Angel and find her now. And do NOT let Samantha get whiff of this!”

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●　● Sumeria One, Eden Space Territories

“Sorry,” Sam awkwardly apologized after taking a while to decide in which chair to sit in Saffire’s office. “I haven’t been to your Sumeria clinic in ages. I kinda’ miss the homier feel to your Akkadia one.”

“No worries,” Saffire replied with a smile, taking a sip from her coffee thermos. “Look, I know what you have going on, and so let me ask while we aren’t in any official therapy session.” She leaned forward, staring into Sam’s eyes intently. “Your struggles deep down, the things dividing you, it’s your mother, isn’t it?”

Sam shrugged with a weak smile, shaking her head in her usual, quick, and casual denial. Though as she opened her mouth to respond, something got caught in her throat, leaving her speechless as a wave of thoughts roared through the next instant.

No, I only left and joined Infinity full time to spite her, but that was just to join. Nothing she said made me stay permanently. Nothing she said made me stay and… and… after all that I…

Her nightmares she couldn’t shake began to flash vividly through her attempts to keep her conscious thoughts clear. She smelled the blood again, she felt the warmth of the wet blood soaking through the armor she had taken. She felt the stab wound in her shoulder again. And then the life ripped away from each man she took with each trigger pull.

It’s all his fault, not hers! She screamed out in her thoughts, picturing Isaiah’s face but still unable to even think out saying his name. Everything would be so different if it wasn’t for him! Why does he have to do all that!? Why…

And then another thought she never pieced together suddenly formed as she froze.

It’s her fault he ended up this way, isn’t it.

“You blame her for what he became, don’t you,” Saffire spoke through a heavy heart, knowing she must be reading her emotions fairly accurately.

Those words shook Sam out of her trance and out of her own beliefs. She had thought for so long that if it wasn’t the revenge she wanted to exact on her brother that drove her this far, what was it? Was it really her mother at the base of things? Those words shook her once more as she replayed them in her head. “Maybe it is,” she finally uttered through her weakened, mumbling voice as she stared through the floor.

“You know, I was always afraid you harbored some kind of anger or disappointment ever since your mother disappeared all those years, just to come back and have you two live the lives you did. And then your father told me about the, uh, talks you and she had after your encounters in Colombia.”

But maybe Saffire was correct. Sam felt contempt welling up quickly, wiping away the effects of the frightful flashbacks. “Why bring her up, though?” She asked with a renewed spark in her eyes as she returned gazes. “She’s gone again, looking for him. Looking to go save him like she’s suddenly going to change his mind with another soul-crushing scolding.”

“She left, Sam,” Saffire started but with a different intent in her gaze now, one as if she now felt Sam was wrong. “She left to go save not just your brother, but you, too.”

“Save me?! She never thought to before!” Sam laughed with a hurt look flash across her face. “Don’t try to go there, please.”

“Sam, listen to me,” Saffire continued but in an even stronger tone, one Sam herself hadn’t heard often before. “I don’t have a whole lot confirmed yet, but everything is different ever since you got as far as the Philippines. Isaiah isn’t after you, someone else is, and your mother caught on to everything. She’s after the one in most danger, and saving him will save you.”

“Save him from who, though?!” Sam again felt the urge to laugh. “From me? Or from my team? You mean from the one who almost ripped a new set of holes in him last month?” she asked in reference to Kaylen’s near-success via the Galatine.

“I don’t know what or who just yet, but only that would make her go dark,” Saffire replied as she backed off her approach. “Just trust me. Harboring those feelings aren’t going to help. You either need to refocus on why you are still doing business with Infinity, or back out while you still can.”

“I already promised myself I am not backing out until I get back at him! Even if it means finding my mother first to figure out where he is!”

“I didn’t say you can’t focus on that objective, Sam, I said you can’t do it with those feelings.” She then took a moment to let some of that sink in. “I’ll be behind you every step I can, but you need to spend some more time back home, more time with Dr. Wozniak, and rethink why you want to do this. It’ll be life or death for you, and I speak this from my own experience through two wars. Please, Sam.”

Sam hated to admit it, but no matter how many times those with more experience spoke those words “through two wars”, she could never find a way to counter it. Even coming from someone as close to her as a real aunt, it set off a nagging, tormenting fire deep within her nevertheless.

This isn’t a war! Nothing I am doing or trying to do matches up with any of these wars people speak of! Why can’t they see around all these false parallels they keep drawing?! She thought to herself in continued silent frustration, not noticing how she had balled up in her chair, arms around her knees. No, Sam. Calm down. I have to stop. I didn’t come back home to go through this- this is stupid.

“Sorry, Sam,” Saffire broke the silence with a huff, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I hate doing this since it’s way against my better sense, but that last line was stupid of me to say,” she continued, watching Sam snap out of her thoughts in surprise. “This is all in the end kind of stupid. Let me cut to the real chase.”

Is she reading my mind?! Sam jumped again at the notion. “Wait, what?”

“The things I said about going in with the wrong feelings? I said that because your mother just found out some very dark things your brother is dealing with, and she’s been trying so hard to keep you from ever exposing yourself to them. And from the hints I got, I’m afraid one of those things might be stopping another precursor event to more global conflict in the future.”

Sam paused, but not for long as nothing seemed to register as realistic. “Wait, how do you know all of this to be certain?”

“Your mother didn’t just run away like your father said, Sam,” Saffire continued in a steady, heavy tone with gazes locked. “To just… find your brother. She went to go stop your brother from dragging you into a potential, real, and I mean very real global conflict.” She watched Sam start to listen more intently and with rapidly increasing concern. “Your father will speak to you sometime I am sure, as there’s no way he stays silent about this for long. Her goal has always been to keep you from being involved, and now her other goal is to save her other child. Sam, don’t go about this with the wrong foot out. Please.”