Julius Grief was expected to achieve great things in his future. He and his brothers all shared the same mission, carefully planned by their father to make the world a better place.

All of his plans had gone off the rails when the new boy—whom he had assumed the identity of—entered the academy. This boy would eventually destroy their plan. But Julius hadn't given up; his mission had simply changed. He would now live the life not of Alex's friend, the heir of the Friend Foundation, but the life of Alex Rider, the MI6 spy. Perhaps this change was a blessing; he could infiltrate himself, making it easier to save his father and siblings with all the inside information he could obtain. Then they could return to their original plan; his siblings still had a chance of succeeding.

Julius tried not to look at the faces of his brothers and sisters as he left the building; he couldn't bear to see them on their knees when the world should have been bowing down to them. "I will get you out," he promised silently. He wished he could reassure them himself, give them a sign that he would rescue them, but he couldn't risk blowing his cover. He was their last chance.

Once outside, he cast a final glance at his home as an agent followed him out. He managed to repress his disgust as the man wrapped him in a foil blanket. The man clearly knew Alex, but Julius didn't even know his name.

That was another problem; every piece of information he had from Alex was wrong. He had studied the life of Alex Friend, not Rider. It struck him that he didn't even know the full name, where he really lived, or who he lived with. For now, he would have to improvise and hope that the others would buy it.

He was taken to a helicopter, where a woman was already sitting inside, another unfamiliar face. "Are you okay, Alex? We lost you for a while," she asked with a hint of worry.

He only nodded slightly, not saying anything, turning his head away from the two inquisitive faces.

"He was unconscious for a while; must be in shock. The adrenaline is wearing off," the man who brought him said quietly to the woman. She didn't answer, only looking slightly guilty toward Julius.

"I will take him to get checked out. Don't take too long; a storm is coming. We will do the cleaning after it passes. Just apprehend the clones for now," she said before the door was closed, leaving him alone with her.

Julius gritted his teeth as he heard them talk about 'clones.' They would learn to respect them, to obey them. Julius would make sure.

But for now, he would play the role of the innocent boy traumatized by the events he had lived through. That would explain his different personality as he adapted. He wouldn't have to fake it for too long; he was on a limited timeframe. After all, they would eventually find the real Alex dead in the lab where he was created. It brought him a great deal of satisfaction to think of the bleeding body of Alex; it was the price he had to pay for ruining his father's plans.

Eventually, after an unbearably long ride, they landed on top of a building. The woman got out first, and Julius followed her out, only to come face to face with what appeared to be a couple of doctors waiting for them.

"Alex, you will go with the doctors to get checked out, before I take you to debriefing," the woman told him, directing him to the supposed doctors.

"I don't need medical attention; I'm not hurt," he said. He wanted to get out of here and find out where they were taking his family. Honestly, he didn't want to risk someone taking out some blood and finding out the truth. Because no matter how much his father perfected them, DNA was something that couldn't be changed.

"Well, you are still concussed, and you were unconscious for two minutes, so you are getting checked out," the woman said, fishing out her phone and typing something.

He wasn't given much choice; the doctors dragged him away. They took him to a room, urging him to change into some paper clothes. Julius wasn't a stranger to medical procedures; he had all his body changed. It had hurt; it still did. He had less time than the others to recover, but he had to step up; his family depended on him.

They ran a series of tests, thankfully, no blood was drawn, nor anything that could ruin his cover. They were mostly worried about his head. Apparently, Alex Rider had suffered a concussion prior to the attack, probably due to being hit by the snow cleaner. Pity that it hadn't hit him harder.

All of them thought that he had died. Unfortunately, the boy only suffered a head trauma. Not that it mattered anymore; Alex Rider was dying, or perhaps he already did. He sure was in a bad state when Julius last saw him. Julius only hoped that he suffered before taking his final breath.

Outside the room, Mrs. Jones was talking to the doctor.

"Everything okay with him?" Mrs. Jones asked, still feeling guilty about what happened to Alex.

"Yes, better than okay, actually, it's rather odd," the medic said, looking at the teen's results.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he had a mild concussion, but now he does not," the doctor explained.

"That's good news, is it not?" Mrs. Jones asked. No one liked to deal with head injuries, after all.

"Yes, it is, but concussions don't typically disappear overnight, especially in someone who took more hits to the head," the doctor explained.

"You also said that he was involved in an explosion," Mrs. Jones nodded.

"There weren't any burns or bruises on his body, and no smoke in his lungs," he stated before closing the file. "The boy is in perfect health for someone who had injuries a few hours ago."

"Right, send the medical report to the usual place," Mrs. Jones said, entering the room where Alex was already dressed and ready to leave.

"Alright, Alex, you're all clear. I'm taking you home."

"Home? I thought we were going to debriefing."

"I think it's better if you rest first. Jack is waiting for you." Julius had no idea who Jack was; whoever he was, he was the reason Julius couldn't find out where his family was being taken.

He wanted to argue, but that would probably be out of character. He had to lay low so that no one suspected him. After all, he should want to speak with his 'family' more than to talk about the last few days.

But he had to act quickly because as soon as they found the body, this would all be over for him and his real family.

"What will happen to the others?" he asked after a few moments of silence in the car.

"They will return to their families, of course." Of course, she thought he was talking about the originals. No, he didn't care about them; they should be dead along with Alex. And when he got his family, they would meet the same destiny as the boy.

"No, not them. The others, and Grief," the woman didn't instantly reply.

"That's classified," she finally said

"What?" The car stopped. "We're here, someone will come pick you up tomorrow," she said instead. "That's not fair, I deserve to know," he argued, trying not to sound as enraged as he truly was. Who did this woman think she was to not tell him about his brothers and sisters?

"Alex, we will talk tomorrow. Right now, you need to rest." He didn't move.

"Go on, Jack is waiting for you," she repeated, frowning.

He knew he couldn't press any further. He could read in the woman's face that she was finding doubts in his behavior. "One step at a time," he told himself as he stepped out of the car.

It was easy to tell which house he was supposed to go to; it was the only one that had a woman waiting at the entrance. He walked towards her, seeing her relax in relief when she saw him.

"Alex!" she exclaimed, bringing him into a hug.

She clearly wasn't his family; too young and too American for that. So who was she? The woman in the car told him that Jack was waiting for him. He had thought she was speaking of a man, but perhaps not. Maybe this was Jack. But just to be safe, he would wait until he was sure of himself.

He didn't let himself be embraced for too long, pushing her away from him and silently entering the house.

It was a modest house, above average for a London home but much, much below what he was waiting for. He was promised millions; this was pennies.

He heard the door close behind him, making him turn around.

"Oh sweetie, are you okay? Mrs. Jones told me you got the all-clear from the medics, but I was so worried."

Julius fought the smile. 'Mrs. Jones.' So that was the name of the woman who brought him. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought.

The woman continued rambling, "No one told me anything, and suddenly Tom said he was attacked and had blown your cover. I was so afraid something had happened to you."

Tom was a name he knew; his father had told him all about it. Tom Harris was a friend of Alex Rider, the same friend who revealed the real identity of the spy. Some friend he was.

"I'm fine," he said, brushing her off. "I'm just tired, that's all," he told her next, excusing his behavior.

Instantly, he saw the look on her face soften. That was too easy. "Alright, I'll wake you up in a few hours so you can eat something."

And just like that, he went up the stairs, correctly assuming that the bedrooms would be on the second floor. Thankfully, the woman didn't follow him, so he could look for his bedroom unsuspiciously.

It was obvious which one was his and the woman's, but there was still a third room. It must be his parents' room, but then again, Jones hadn't said, "Your parents are waiting for you," she only mentioned Jack.

He sat on the bed; he had some planning to do. If he wanted to fool everyone, he had to play his cards right.