Anya was out with Becky, walking for once instead of driving. They were currently on their first week of spring break. The air was wet and cold, clinging to their thick, woolen sweaters and Anya was glad Papa had insisted she wear her hat.

Becky was complaining relentlessly about the cold, but Anya could tell it wasn't genuine even without reading her friend's mind. Becky just boasted a prickly exterior, but you could never actually prick your finger on any thorns.

The duo (plus Becky's chauffeur of course), rounded a corner and found themselves standing in the middle of downtown Berlint. Martha grew closer to the girls as they approached the crowd and kept a watchful eye out. Even if it was the middle of the day, danger lurked around every corner, especially in the bustling streets of the capital's downtown.

Becky had spotted a towering mall at the end of the street and excitedly grabbed Anya's hand to begin dragging her in the direction. Martha picked up her pace to follow the girls, struggling to keep an eye on them as the small children wove through the crowds. It seemed everyone was on their breaks, and this coupled with the typical Saturday rush meant the crowds were particularly thick.

It is unrealistic for anyone to be able to keep up with two hyperactive children, particularly when they seem to have no regard for their own safety. Martha knew the two's destination and followed the vague shadows of what she had assumed to be them, but once she had made it to the large doors of the department store, she realized she had lost the girls somewhere in the crowd.

Years of working for a demanding businessman with unrealistic expectations for everyone and everything had taught Martha how to remain calm under pressure. She was able to swallow back the panic that had begun to crawl up her chest and devise a foolproof plan for locating the girls.

The first step would be to check the store. Maybe they had in fact made it there and rushed inside. Martha was certain a store this prestigious would have an intercom system and security that could help her locate the girls.

If that failed she would take to the streets, retracing her path and looking for any way the girls could have wandered off.

If God forbid, this too came up fruitless, Martha would have to contact Anya's parents and the police and hope nothing had happened to Becky or her only friend.

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Anya wasn't sure when Becky had started pulling her in the wrong direction, but it had happened because the building the girls stood in front of was not the department store they had set out to find. Spinning around, Anya tried to spot the building they were initially headed for but was quickly pulled from her thoughts as Becky tugged on her again, this time, to hide behind a planter.

"Look that way!" Becky exclaimed, peeking over the manicured bushes and pointing a finger at the cafe across the street.

Anya followed Becky's finger and immediately spotted the wide assortment of sweets and pastries visible through the store's windows.

"I wonder if they have anything with peanuts," the younger girl wondered aloud.

Anya got up to go investigate the baconry's desserts before she was yanked back down by Becky. She was getting tired of the manhandling.

"Not the pastries silly; look who's sitting at that table!"

This time Anya followed Becky's finger, pointedly ignoring the warm and fluffy pastries, and spotted Damian sitting alone at a cafe table. All the tables surrounding him were empty par for a single, elegantly dressed man who reminded Anya of Martha.

"Why is Second Son at a baconry?"

"It's 'bakery' and I don't know, but you should go talk to him!"

Anya turned to stare at Becky dumbfounded.

"Don't give me that look," Becky scoffed, folding her arms as she looked at her friend. "This is your chance to talk to him! You can finally connect with him on a deeper, emotional level. None of his lackeys are around to get in his way, so this is the perfect time to confess. And at a dreamy cafe? This is too perfect!"

The dumbfounded look morphed into one of disgust as Anya looked at her lovesick friend.

"I bet he would confess to you immediately, and then you would see him every single day. You would both hold hands and go on dates, you would spend your breaks at one another's houses and then you would get married after a super romantic proposal!"

Anya had begun to walk away halfway through the soliloquy, intent to be anywhere but next to her helpless romantic friend, but one of Becky's comments stopped her in her tracks.

"Go to his house?"

"Yep! That's, like, one of the first things you do when you date someone. You have dinner and meet their parents and then they exchange embarrassing childhood stories about you! But you are both still kids so I guess that part wouldn't happen..."

Anya's brain started to devise a scheme. She could practically see it in front of her: her talking to Second Son, him inviting her to his house to meet his father, Anya bringing Papa along, and Operation Sticks being a complete success!

"I MUST DATE SECOND SON FOR WORLD PEACE," Anya loudly declared, a couple members of the thinning crowd glancing at her sudden outburst.

Before Becky had a chance to respond, Anya was already marching towards the cafe. She walked around the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the outdoor patio, and only after some minor struggling with the gate latch, she was walking towards Second Son.

When she was a few feet from him, Second Son spotted her. Immediately his face turned red and he started loudly sputtering. He had just begun to spit out some snarky remark when Anya reached his chair, pointed at him, and said, "Date me."

This caused Second Son's face to turn even redder. He leaped from his chair, and after some staring with his mouth agape and flailing of his arms, started to yell at her.

"WHY WOULD I WANT TO DATE AN UGGO LIKE YOU HUH?!"

Anya's eyes narrowed into a peer as she looked at the flustered boy in front of her.

"Because I have a big dog-"

"That is hardly a reason for me to-"

"-and I am very cute."

"-wait wHAT?!"

Anya dropped her head, recalling every moment her Mama had ever proclaimed her cuteness and channeled the energy she remembered feeling in those moments, before looking up at Second Son with a finger pressed to her cheek as she flaunted her biggest puppy-dog eyes ever. She watched as Second Son somehow got even redder.

"Are you turning into a tomato?" She deadpanned, dropping her pose immediately as she looked at him with a judgmental sneer.

"Shut up you annoying girl!"

"But I just want to go on a date with you and go to your house," Anya retorted.

"And why does a little child such as yourself want to come to my house?" A new voice asked from behind Anya, causing her to jump.

The redness in Damian's face quickly began to recede as he looked up at the newcomer.

"F-Father! You made it!"

"Yes I did, but I do hope this wasn't for some childish escapade of yours. You are far too young to be dating, let alone someone such as her."

This last remark seemed to fly over Anya's head but it hit Damian in a way he wasn't expecting. This obliviousness proved helpful though, allowing Anya to continue on with her newest mission which she had dubbed "Operation Rizzler".

"I want to go to your house with my Papa for dinner!" She exclaimed after turning to face the Big Boss Leader.

Desmond narrowed his eyes at the girl, looking down at her from over the bridge of his nose. Something about this man caused Anya to squirm in her skin, but she fought through the discomfort.

Papa would be big and strong and brave right now, Anya reminded herself with a shake of her head.

"And why must you and your 'Papa' have dinner with me?"

"Because," Anya drawled a bit annoyed as if the question he was asking made no sense, "Second S- I mean Damian," she internally gagged at the use of his name and if she had eyes in the back of her head would've been able to see the boy in question flush, "and are dating and people who date have dinner at each other's houses!"

Before Desmond even had a chance to respond, Damian was leaping forward, hands stretched out in front of him with a desperate look on his face.

"We are not dating! I would never date a commoner like you Uggo!" Damian turned from where he had been pointing at Anya accusingly to face his father again, turning sheepish once he faced the man. "I would never disgrace our family name like that Father."

Anya turned to look at Second Son, peering at him confused. Becky had been insistently telling her that Damian would be ecstatic to date her a few minutes ago, and here he was calling her some lowlife peasant. He didn't pay any attention, looking up at his father with a desperate look on his face.

"I certainly hope you aren't dating," his Father eventually replied with a tight sigh, "that would be distasteful."

This made Anya angrier for some reason, and the fear she had felt earlier dissipated.

"I am not mistasty!" Anya exclaimed with fists clenched at her sides. "I am very tasty and fancy!"

Damian turned back to her, ready to start scolding her again when his father snapped his fingers. Anya suddenly noticed the crowd of big men clad in tight suits standing behind Big Boss Leader, and at the sound, moved forward and began ushering her out of the cafe, which was now weirdly empty.

Anya began running around to evade the big men, shouting at them that she wasn't done during the process. Damian watched this unfold, a mild look of horror on his face, when his father began to speak. His face snapped to his father's as the man spoke.

"I do not have a lot of time, so if you have something to say to me, say it now."

"I-" Damian stuttered out, looking up at his father. Anya continued to shout behind him and suddenly Damian was at a loss for words. He desperately began gathering his thoughts, struggling under the scrutinizing glare of his father, and just as he had begun to formulate a reply, something collided with his side.

"I WANT YOU TO MEET MY PAPA," Anya declared, face red from exertion as she huffed heavily in a defensive stance.

The guards who had been tasked with collecting her were quickly approaching, and just as one was about to grab her arm, Desmond raised a hand, halting the men in place. He then bent down into a squat to look Anya in the eyes. His gaze was sharp, and Damian looked at the exchange from where he lay on the ground.

Desmond studied Anya's face and the uncomfortable feeling from before drained the heat from Anya's body. She reminded herself of her mission, which kept her from running away. Instead, she stood as tall as she could, which was still shorter than the monstrous man in front of her, and let her telepathy activate.

"Young girl," Desmond began, disgust dripping from the words, "this behavior is completely unacceptable. You must leave immediately."

Anya heard what he said, but she also heard what he thought and before she could think, she was yelling, "My Papa and Mama are amazing! They are kind and nice and have raised me better than anyone before! Don't say those things about them!"

As she shouted, she got closer to Desmond, so close that some of the spit from her short speech had hit his face. She didn't care, completely overcome with anger. Her face was once again red with frustration as she watched Desmond with a sinister glare.

To be entirely honest, Anya wasn't sure what she expected to happen after this outburst. Foresight wasn't her strong suit, in fact, it was a suit the girl had never seen before, never once held in her hands. All she knew was that what Big Boss Leader said about her parents was wrong and that she wouldn't stand by and let him say those things.

A grotesque smile took shape on Desmond's face. He brought an arm up to his face and used the sleeve of his coat to wipe the remnants of her spit from his cheek as his grin grew wider. Anya stumbled back, eyes going wide as she watched his facial expression grow.

I never said anything about her parents aloud. Desmond thought as the wicked grin settled onto his face.

Terror tore through Anya's body. Pure, overwhelming fear tore apart her veins in a way she hadn't felt since—

She turned around to run, desperate to get away, but collided with a bodyguard from before, standing tall and imposing. Spinning around, Anya desperately looked for an exit, but tall black suits were the only thing visible. The bustling street had gone quiet, not a single person to be heard. Anya was completely alone, a man with a devil grin and his confused son her only company.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Martha stood in a phone booth, anxiety nipping at her as she listened to the phone ring. This was her fifth attempt to call the Folgers and still no answer. When she was met with silence once more, she sighed heavily and placed the phone back on the receiver.

Swatting away the growing nerves once more, Martha began to think through a new plan. She had already informed the police that the girls were missing and the Folgers clearly weren't home at the moment. Should she go to their apartment then? But if they weren't home then that would be pointless. Maybe they were asleep and had just missed her calls. No, phones were loud and they surely would have woken up after the fourth call if that were the case. The best plan was to continue looking for the girls herself.

Martha stepped out of the phone booth and was taken aback when she saw the street was empty. When she had entered the booth the street had been full of people idly walking and chatting, but now it was so quiet she could hear the slight breeze as it blew past her ear. She looked around the street in hopes of finding some kind of reason for the emptiness.

In the distance she spotted a crowd of people dressed in black, standing in what Martha had to assume was a restaurant of some kind. She made a move to walk closer when someone stepped out from an alleyway right by the phone booth.

He was tall, dressed in a dark suit with sunglasses obscuring his eyes. His expression was entirely apathetic and he extended an arm to block Martha's path.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he spoke monotonously, "the street has actually been shut down. Please make your way back to the main square."

"I'm sorry, but I'm actually looking for two little girls. I think they got lost around here somewhere and—"

He interrupted Martha, voice sterner than before. "Ma'am they are not here. You need to return to the main square and—"

"This is ridiculous! Why is the street shut down and why can't I look for two missing five-year-old girls?"

"Ma'am you need to leave right now."

Martha was just about to yell at him some more when she heard a very familiar scream. She turned to look down the street and saw a little brunette with pigtails running towards her with tears in her eyes.

"Martha!" She shouted as she barrelled down the street, "Martha they have Anya what are they going to do to her?"

It seemed the man had been startled by Becky's sudden appearance so Martha took this opportunity to run towards her. She fell to her knees, wrapping her dau— Miss. Becky in a hug as she cried into her shoulder. The girl's helpless blubbering was the only thing Martha could hear, the only evidence she was even making comforting hushes into the girl's ear coming from the sensation of her vocal cords vibrating in her throat.

"Shhh, it's okay Miss. Becky," Martha reassured, petting the back of her head with one hand. "Tell me what's happening."

Becky took a deep wet breath in before saying, "I told Anya to go talk to Damian but then this big men started chasing her, and I didn't know what to do and there were other men making people leave but I couldn't ditch Anya but then sh—"

Two strong hands grabbed onto Martha's shoulders, yanking her from the ground. Her hold on Becky was lost and the girl fell onto the ground, tears still brimming in her eyes. With one hand on the back of Martha's neck, the man from before used the other to grab the back of Becky's sweater, hauling her off the ground and she hung aimlessly in the air. Her hysteria returned, sobbing violently as she helplessly tried to hit the man.

"What on Earth do you think you are doing?!" Martha exclaimed, grabbing onto the hand on her neck.

She was shoved forward, causing her to stumble and lose her grip.

"You found your daughter, now leave," he demanded, not loosening his grip.

"This is absurd!" Martha yelled, trying to grab onto his arm once more. Becky was still crying loudly, an arm over her face in an attempt to try and wipe some of the tears from her face. Anger shot through Martha, giving her a spur of strength as she clawed at the hand on her neck. "Let go of us!"

She could feel her nails dig into skin but it didn't seem to do anything. She was desperate to comfort Becky, to get them both somewhere safe, but she seemed powerless. The man was too strong and she was getting weaker every day, there was no hope that they would get out of his grip.

Suddenly, the hand on her neck was gone and Martha heard a heavy collision occur right behind her. Even Becky's wails stopped suddenly and Martha turned behind her to see what had happened.

"M—Mrs. Forger?" Martha gasped out.

There stood Mrs. Forger, arms wrapped around a confused Becky as the man from before lay slumped on the ground. Something was embedded in the side of his head with a faint trickle of blood seeping out of the wound.

Mrs. Forger stood awkwardly, shuffling on her feet with an uneasy smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry! Bond had run from the house barking so Loid and I went to go chase him down and then I saw you here and it looked like you both needed some help."

Becky made a move to look behind her where the man was sprawled with an object embedded in his head. Mrs. Forger subtly rotated, keeping Becky from seeing what had happened. She looked down at the girl suddenly, making a small surprised noise as if just remembering she was in her arms, before walking over to Martha.

"Here's Becky, are you two alright? Do you need any help or—"

Her voice cut off suddenly as her eyes went wide. Martha took Becky from her arms, holding the back of the girl's head so her face was against her shoulder.

Mrs. Forger's eyes went from huge circles to thin slits. The expression that appeared on her face was chilling and for some reason, Martha couldn't help but glance back at the man on the ground. When she looked back, Mrs. Folger's back was to her. She started walking forward as if in a trance.

"Sorry but I need to go," the woman replied, her pace quickening. "Go to the main square and call the police."

The end of her instructions was faint as the distance between Martha and Mrs. Folger grew. She had broken out into a full sprint, kicking off her shoes behind her as she headed towards the crowd of black-attired men Martha had spotted earlier. Martha watched after her for a moment, her grip on Becky tightening.

Just as she turned to walk towards the main square, she glanced at Mrs. Forger's discarded shoes, noticing that one of the heels was missing.

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A man had grabbed a fistful of Anya's sweater and pulled her off the ground. She was about to start screaming when a hand came over her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes as she grabbed helplessly at the hand. Big Boss Leader was off the ground and looking at her, evil in his eyes. Anya looked around, hoping that someone was there that could help her. She spotted Becky standing to the side of the planter, eyes wide with tears.

Go, Anya thought intently, begging her friend to leave and find somewhere safe.

Becky stumbled back before turning and sprinting down the street. No one else appeared to be on the street and if Anya could breathe she would've let out a helpless sob. It was then that she realized she couldn't breathe and started grabbing at the hand over her mouth more intensely.

"Now now, little experiment," Evil Boss Leader spoke condescendingly, walking toward the suspended girl, "the more you resist, the worse it will be for you in the end."

He stood a few centimeters from her face. Anya could feel his breath on her face, could feel the stink on her skin.

"When you ran off before, I was quite upset. How could they lose a weapon I had poured millions into? I demanded they find you, but after months of searching, they came up empty. They told me you had died, but here you are, living, breathing."

He tapped the hand that covered her mouth and it was removed. Desperately, Anya gasped, catching her breath.

"Don't, make me... go back," she panted between breaths.

Evil Leader smirked at her again before waving, and the hand was returned over her mouth.

"That won't be happening. It took years to convince my fellow patriots that this experiment was worth the dalc. When it took 7 tries before we got a successful subject, they were antsy, and when you ran away, I nearly lost everything."

He moved so his mouth was right next to her ear, speaking softly so only she could hear. The proximity made his voice loud like she was reading his thoughts and it made Anya wonder whether she was. Had her power activated without her knowledge? That only ever happened in big crowds or when she had been—

"Now I will have you back and no one will be able to save you. Not your Mama or your Papa. They will forget you ever existed and you will be property of Ostania once more."

Anya froze, her eyes wide as tears spilled down her captor's hand. Desmond smiled at the reaction.

"You are mine do you understand?" He wasn't in Anya's ear anymore, but standing in front of her, positioned so that, no matter which direction she looked, she was forced to look at him. "You have no family, you never did. You aren't human 007, you are a weapon, and you will eradicate those who stand in our way. You will kill any person who has a single disobedient thought; you will erase every soldier whose loyalty wavers; you will eliminate every assassin who tries to purge this government; you will murder any spy who lies within our nation."

No Anya thought desperately, I won't kill anyone; I won't kill Papa.

Her vision was going fuzzy. Anya didn't know how long she had gone without breathing. She let her arms fall heavy to her sides. Evil eyes watched her with humor.

"You are alone, 007."

No Anya thought as her vision faded. Mama, Papa, they will save me.

Anya's head hurt. When she came to, the first thing she heard was the noise. She wasn't able to discern what the sound was or where it was coming from, but she could hear it, loud and muffled.

The second thing she noticed was the ground. She was on her side, cold stone under her hands. She could feel the smooth edges of the stone and the worn grout between them. As she slowly gained more consciousness, she felt her arm shaking.

All at once, her senses came rushing back to her. Anya opened her eyes, light blinding her momentarily before she started to process what she saw.

Damian was over her, arms pressed on her shoulder as he desperately shook her. Tears were running down his face, but he didn't bother to wipe them. Behind him, there was a large fight. She could see the crowd of men that had trapped her slowly getting decimated, rendered nothing more than unconscious sacks of meat on the ground.

Slowly, Anya sat up and Damian pulled away, eyes wide. If Anya hadn't just blacked out, she would've been surprised when he pulled her into a hug, head pushed tightly into the crook of her shoulder. She paid no attention to him though, instead watching the fight unfold.

Anya studied the crowd and noticed that the fight was mostly between two people and the rest of the crowd. It was only when she saw the white blur of fur that she put the pieces together.

"Papa," she breathed out, throat sore. "Mama."

Damian pulled away from her, taking in her awed expression. He turned to look at the fight, the both of them sitting on the cold floor silently watching the fight.

The two figures —Anya's Mama and Papa— wove through the crowd with careful elegance. She noticed they had cloth wrapped around the bottom halves of their faces, but this didn't seem to interfere with the thorough ass-whooping they were raining down upon the onslaught of bodyguards. Even Bond had his own little disguise on, though it had grown loose in his mess of jumping around.

There were only a few bodyguards still standing, and Anya's parents looked at them with murder in their eyes. Papa had a gun that matched the ones the bodyguards held, and Mama held some kind of rope in her hand. One of the bad guys had a gun pointed at Mama, his arm shaking subtly with exhaustion. The group stood quietly, watching and waiting to see what the other would do.

On shaky legs, Anya stood up and took a few staggered steps forward, before running towards her parents. She heard Damian shout out behind her, but she didn't care. She was right. They came for her.

"PA—" She shouted, before feeling an arm wrap around her.

Her yelling seemed to have provided the perfect distraction. The split-second outburst had given her Papa the perfect opportunity to disarm the leveled gun, while Mama swept around and clobbered the men with her rope. Papa even got a hit in, and soon the few remaining bodyguards had joined their friends on the ground.

Anya would've been happy if not for the arm wrapped tightly around her or the man who was holding her.

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Loid was running down the street chasing after Bond. At some point, Yor had disappeared from his side, but he knew she could handle herself. Instead, he focused his full attention on pursuing the disobedient dog.

"Bond, stop it! Get back here!" He yelled breathlessly, turning down the alleyway he saw the white tail vanish into.

At the end of the alley, Bondy stood, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he watched. Loid slowed his pace, allowing himself to catch his breath as he muttered to himself.

"What got into you, Bond?" He asked as he neared the dog's side. He reached into his pocket to pull out his leash when he heard it, clear as day: Mama, Papa, they will save me.

Loid was startled, Anya?. It sounded like she had been talking directly into his ears, but no one else was in the alleyway except for Bond. Despite there being no source, the words still came from a direction, and he followed it, walking to the end of the alley.

Carefully, Twilight peeked out of the alleyway and found a cafe opposite to him. He had stopped at the place once before to grab some pastries on his way back from a mission. Anya had enjoyed the peanut butterscotch cookie and Yor liked the mini lava cake, but that was irrelevant. No, what was important was the group of men, likely bodyguards, and that Anya was hanging limp in one of their hands.

Instinctively, Twilight began taking his jacket off and tore it apart. He took off a sleeve, tearing the seam so it was a long piece of frayed cloth. As he did so, he looked around the street to see if there was anything else noteworthy. There didn't appear to be anyone watching from any windows, or anyone else on the street for that matter. He saw three figures far off at the end of the street, but they seemed to be walking in the opposite direction.

Twilight tied the cloth around his mouth and pulled his hat down farther so only his eyes were showing. He didn't know the details but he didn't need them. There were no external threats and all he could think about was saving his daughter.

After shoving the leash and extra sleeve back into his pant pocket, he took off running, Bond chasing after him. He hopped the fence that surrounded the cafe and made quick work of some of the bodyguards.

He was quick to disarm them, grabbing the guns he had spotted strapped to their sides. Keeping two for himself —tucking one into the back of his waistband and keeping the other in his left hand— he worked efficiently, shooting them in their joints to immobilize them, whether from pain or by severing the muscles in their legs. When a gun ran out or got jammed, he tossed it aside in favor of one he acquired from his latest victim.

His opponents were large, heavy, and strong, but this also meant they were slower than him. Twilight used this to his advantage, hopping around so they couldn't land any heavy hits.

The quantity of them was overwhelming. It was clear to Twilight that they were well-trained, and if he slipped up for just a second, they could overwhelm him. Leaping in unannounced had helped him catch them off their guard, but they weren't so disoriented anymore.

One grabbed Twilight's hair and brought Twilight's head sailing down to his knee. The impact was jarring and left him temporarily dazed. Just as his attacker got a hand around his throat, the man was sent tumbling to the ground.

Loid blinked, looking up at the person who saved him.

"Yor?!" He asked, looking at her shocked.

She turned to look at him, face immediately softening from the grim expression that she had worn milliseconds prior. It seemed her surprise entrance had caught the bodyguards off balance once again, as they all stood around gaping at her.

"Loi—?"

She was cut off when one of the guys regained his focus and leaped for her. Yor easily dodged, hopping over his outstretched arms, causing him to collapse onto the ground.

Twilight noticed Yor was hiding her face as much as possible, turning so none of the crowd could see her face. Quickly, he reached into his pocket and tossed the extra dismantled sleeve to her. He was still a bit disoriented from the knee to his head, but the cloth made it to her. After a moment of staring, she wrapped the piece around her face, noticing Bond's leash had been wrapped in the bundle.

As she did so, more people lept into action, heading for both her and Twilight. Yor was distracted with the sleeve and Twilight was still trying to steady himself when Bond jumped into action. The excess of Loid's coat was over Bond's face and in any other circumstance, he would have snickered at the sight.

Instead, Twilight refocused on the attackers and got to work.

When a group of four had surrounded Twilight, Yor had swooped in, using Bond's leash as a deadly weapon. The metal clasp that would attach to his collar was swung at the attacker's head with scary accuracy, hitting pressure points that caused them to collapse to the ground.

The two fell into a rhythm that felt natural despite having never really fought together. Sure, there was the time when Loid had proposed, but they had barely known each other. It had been nearly a year of their fake marriage and the two had fallen in sync with one another. Even if they had never been in combat situations together, they had been in nearly every other situation imaginable and unimaginable.

They knew each other's weaknesses and strengths and were able to make up for the areas the other lacked. Even Bond fit into their team perfectly. The dog kept circling the group like he was herding cattle, keeping any of the bodyguards from running off, occasionally chomping down on a leg or two.

It was when nearly every person had been dealt with that the trio found themselves in a pickle. Bond was panting in a strange half-standing half-laying stance. Yor's knuckles were raw and red, the end of Bond's leash dripping with blood. Twilight's main gun had run out of ammo and exhaustion sat heavy on his shoulders.

When the group had collectively taken a brief moment to reset themselves, the gun pointed at Yor's head positioned itself. The three looked at the four remaining meatheads who stood with fists at their sides. Twilight still had a gun in his hand, but it was empty and it appeared as though the other four knew that. There was the one in his waistband, but it was too far to reach without someone noticing. No one had to tell them not to move, even Bond seemed to know to stay still. They all stood, studying one another, trying to devise who was going to make the first move and what it would be.

"PA—!"

The shout that wasn't even a second long was enough to startle everyone but the spy. Twilight swept into action, grabbing the attacker's gun as it went off half a second later. Yor started into action immediately after, using her deadly leash to render the rest of the crowd useless.

It was after everyone had been dealt with that Twilight was able to fully comprehend what was in front of him. There stood Donovan Desmond, his left arm wrapped tightly around Anya's waist and the other gripping a gun that was pressed flush to her skull.

Anya's face was stained with tears, but there didn't appear to be any in her eyes anymore. There was fear, and rightfully so, but there was determination in them too, as well as an emotion Loid could only identify because he had raised that girl for the past year.

"Drop your weapons," Donovan spoke, arms unwavering, "or I kill the girl."

Yor obeyed immediately, dropping the leash. If it hadn't been coated in blood, a metallic ring would have echoed through the barren street, but instead, it just hit the ground with a soft thud.

Twilight was slower to agree. He hesitated for a moment, studying his daughter's eyes. They looked back, full of unwavering faith in him that made Twilight certain Anya knew it was him under the hastily made disguise.

Slowly, he lowered the gun to the ground, pushing it away from him with his foot. He raised his hands to match Yor's and waited for the next demand.

Donovan looked at the two with a sickly smile.

"Good, now we are going to wait just like this until my car arrives. I'll be taking the girl and you will be arrested."

"Don't do it!" Anya suddenly yelled out. "He won't hurt me!"

"Now don't be so confident 007," Donovan replied through a snarl while cocking his gun.

Anya didn't seem affected by the threat, instead maintaining unwavering eye contact with her Papa.

"Pa— Twilight, he wants me alive," she spoke, much softer than before, but still loud enough that everyone could hear.

Twilight's eyes widened slightly as he watched Anya, but her expression remained the same. He realized there was a lot more to this situation than he had initially thought, but those questions would need to wait for another time.

Donovan sighed, his grip on Anya loosening slightly as he diverted the gun from her head.

"Children," He muttered with a shake of his head. "Fine then, you will do as I say," He turned the fun instead of Damian who hadn't moved from his spot on the floor, "or I kill the boy."

Damian's head snapped and looked up at his father, eyes wide. There weren't any tears, just pure, unfiltered fear. Twilight saw this reaction and knew that if this man's own son didn't doubt his father's claim to kill him, that Twilight shouldn't either. He would need to be fully prepared for this man to kill his son in a heartbeat. The thought made him sick.

Twilight fought back the feeling and refocused. He couldn't let emotions interfere with his work, not with so much on the line. Everything was in danger; civilians, Operation Strix, his identity, world peace, his daughter.

"So what is the plan exactly," Twilight asked slowly and carefully, looking away from his daughter to look Donovan in the eyes. "You are going to stand here with a gun pointed at a boy until a car appears and you get away scot-free?"

"I never go anywhere with multiple contingency plans in place, you certainly must be aware of this Twilight."

"You have a plan for kidnapping a random child?"

Donovan scoffed at the remark. The man was looser than most would be if they were holding someone hostage, but this just showed Twilight the man knew what he was doing. He knew they didn't have any means of attacking him from that distance, and if they tried to get any closer, he would blow the boy's brains out.

"Random children no, not even this brat, but I do have a plan in case someone tries to kidnap me. My driver will be here in a moment, so this won't take too long. You can go back to whatever it was you were doing before this little scene in a few minutes."

Yor, who had remained quiet until that point, suddenly spoke, voice deep with anger.

"If you think you can take this girl, then you are sorely mistaken."

A dark look had passed over Yor's face and her arms were no longer suspended in the air but in tight fists at her side. It reminded Loid of Anya when she was upset and made him wonder who had rubbed off on the other.

"Ah, Thorn Princess, is it? You're not one to throw around threats you can't make good on."

Twilight's eyes jerked to his side, taking in the woman next to him. He had thought it was Yor, no he knew that was who stood beside him, so that meant that she was also—

"I've never failed before and I am not one to break a habit."

Twilight had been conditioned to receive, process, and act on information quickly. If something surprised him, which was rare, the shock only lasted for a moment before his brain was moving on and taking in the situation. A million thoughts would flood his mind, but he had built a careful system to filter them so only the most vital and useful ones would actually develop.

This system had saved his life countless times, and now it was being used to save someone else's. In barely a second, Twilight was playing his part, lowering his arms slowly as he turned to look at the woman beside him. He let fear and confusion cloud the small part of his face that was still visible and reached a tentative hand towards the Thorn Princess.

"You're a killer?" He asked, putting as much hurt and betrayal into his voice as possible.

He could feel Donovan's gaze on his face, then on his hand reaching towards her. Twilight knew he had lured his attention away for a moment that wouldn't last long, so he made his move.

Using his other hand he grabbed the gun stashed in his waistband and hoisted it, letting the gun fire just as Donovan's gaze returned to look at him. Milliseconds felt like hours as the bullet flew toward the man. Donovan's eyes reacted first, eyes widening as his face twisted into a look of terror.

Twilight could see the man's hold on the gun tighten, finger gripping the trigger closing slowly. Years of training with different guns meant Twilight knew exactly how far Donovan needed to close the trigger before the gun actually shot and Twilight's heart pounded in his chest as that distance was nearly met.

He could hear the click of Donovan's gun, could feel the noise reverberate in his chest, but the sound was cut off short by the loud screech of metal on metal. Twilight's bullet collided with the gun, sending it flying. The bullet never even had a chance to leave the barrel as the gun was sent clattering to the ground.

Donovan pulled his hand back, cursing loudly. His hold on Anya had loosened and she wriggled out of his hold, sprinting forward. Twilight was running towards her, arms stretched out as he switched the safety back onto his gun.

"Papa!" Anya cried out as she collided with Loid's open arms. He wrapped Anya in a hug, her face pressed into his collarbone. They both cried openly, although Anya was much louder than Loid's quiet tears. Anya kept mumbling into his shirt and Loid was only able to decipher a few of her words but none of that mattered.

He focused on the sensation of her small, frail body shaking in his arm, memorizing the feeling. For once, Twilight let his emotions consume him and let himself think about nothing other than that which was wrapped tightly in his arms.

As all of this happened, the Thorn Princess had been taking care of Donovan. As Twilight ran towards his daughter, she went rushing past, descending upon Donovan with enough force to kill an elephant. Instead, she focused all her weight onto his shoulder, shattering his right shoulder blade and collarbone as he collided with the ground. He moaned in pain as she quickly pulled him into a seated position, using Bond's leash —which she had grabbed just as the gun was sent flying— to tie his arms behind his back. She made quick work of him, breaking his legs for good measure.

She turned to look at her family, Loid and Anya sobbing into one another with Bond curled around their side. Yor wanted nothing more than to run and join them, but instead, she turned to her side, where Damian lay on the ground, eyes wide but vacant.

This poor boy's entire world had been completely decimated in a traumatizing exchange that hadn't lasted more than fifteen minutes, but to everyone involved felt like a year. Looking at his completely lost expression, Yor felt a pang in her chest as she was reminded of her own little brother who once wore that same expression. She knew exactly what that boy was feeling, even if the circumstances surrounding that feeling were different.

As much as she wanted to hold Anya closer to her chest, Loid was there with her, keeping her safe and giving her all the love she needed. No, there was someone else who needed some love right now too and he was on the floor, palms covered in small scrapes and eyes so empty, Yor wasn't certain the boy was actually conscious.

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Damian saw her slowly approach him, taking the half-hearted attempt at a disguise off her face. He watched her, eyes unblinking, as she moved closer. While he saw her sit down next to him, keeping an arm's distance between the two, he didn't really process it. He knew what had happened, knew that his father had attempted to kill him, but there was a strange sensation in his chest. A numbness had taken hold of him, rendering him unable to process anything that was happening around him.

With a soft smile, the lady beside him offered him her hand. Damian looked at her offering, then up at her face, before tackling her into a hug.

All that emotion he knew had to have been lurking somewhere came rushing out, the numb shield shattered at the small act of compassion. He began sobbing similarly to Anya and the lady offered the tattered jacket sleeve to him when he stopped crying. Taking it, Damian wiped some of the tears from his face before blowing his nose.

When he had calmed down enough, the lady stood up, offering him her hand. Damian took it and stood up, walking uncertainly behind her. He made sure to not look at his father's unconscious body, or any of the other bodies for that matter. Instead, he watched as the lady led him closer to where Anya was curled into her savior's arms, still a blubbering mess. It seemed he had calmed down though, tears soaked into his mask but his expression was calmer than before.

The man's eyes snapped open, immediately locking onto the lady's barren face. The two seemed to share a brief conversation through eye contact alone before the man's eyes darted down from where they had been trained on the lady to Damian who instinctively hid a bit behind Yor's leg and looked at the ground. While Damian didn't see it, the man's gaze softened when he saw the kid.

Carefully, he peeled the disgusting mask off his face and discarded it. Damian looked back at him tentatively and remembered his face. That was Anya's father, the one who had gone to retrieve her keychain and given Damian the courage to talk to his father that day.

It was clear he didn't want to, but Anya's father also began removing Anya from his shoulder. She clung onto his shirt, still a sniffling mess, and he smiled down fondly at her, whispering something into her ear. Suddenly, she jerked around, and when her eyes landed on the lady, another round of waterworks began as she went running towards her.

Damian stepped away from his hiding spot, feeling as though he was intruding. He watched awkwardly as Anya wrapped the lady in a hug similar to the one she had given Loid, shouting out, "Mama!" as she did so. Damian was unsure whether he should watch but wasn't sure what else he could do. It seemed Anya's mother also whispered something into her ear which caused her to stop crying and this time, turn to look at him.

Before he could even process it, Anya had wrapped Damian in a hug. They were both standing and their height difference was quite noticeable. Anya's arms clung around his waist, her face pressed into his arm as she cried. Without even realizing it, Damian returned the hug, a few tears returning to his eyes too.

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The details of the incident were kept out of the news. A much tamer version of what had happened was reported on, making sure to annex any mention of kids or spy-assassin duos.

Instead, it was said that Donovan Desmond had gone to meet some colleagues for lunch when he was attacked. For his protection, his team had cleared the street for the meeting, which was the only truthful fact about the entire incident, when they were attacked. There was an attempt on Desmond's life, which thankfully only resulted in a few broken bones and bruising. The leader of the National Unity Party had been rushed to a hospital when he was discovered, where he made a swift recovery.

In actuality, WISE had appeared, apprehending the remainder of Desmond's security and securing the area. WISE had taken Donovan to a secure hospital, where they treated his wounds and held him for ransom. Eventually, the Ostanian government agreed to WISE's demands, resulting in Donovan's complete loyalty to Westalia's government as well as the immediate disbanding of Project Omniscient, the highly illegal and unethical descendant of Project Apple.

This was the program that experimented on orphaned children to give them telekinetic powers. The experiments were nauseatingly similar to the ones conducted on dogs a few years prior, with almost all of the equipment confiscated from Omniscient labs having been clearly designed for large canines.

Donovan had supported the program, leading multiple back-door campaigns amongst his colleagues to continue its funding, and the Ostanian government was in danger of being completely dismantled for committing human rights violations. This threat was enough to make Ostania agree to any of WISE's demands, eager to keep this information from going public.

"Well," Handler sighed, shuffling the papers around on the table in a half-hearted attempt to organize them, "this wasn't how any of us anticipated Strix going down, but as usual, you delivered Twilight."

"I always do my best, Handler."

She looked at the man seated across from her. He sat as he always did —back rigidly straight and hands folded neatly on the table— but there was something different about the way he looked. After a few moments, Handler had identified it and smirked at him, leaning back in her chair.

"Go on Twilight, get it off your chest."

The man in question peered at her, annoyed, and she just smiled back.

"I'm not going to leave my family," he stated, voice tight.

Closing her eyes, Handler tilted her head back, nodding.

"I know, Twilight."

The two sat in silence for a while, Handler with her eyes closed and Twilight watching her carefully. Eventually, she opened her eyes and let all four legs of her chair rest on the ground again. She leaned over the table, arms folded under her.

"You are our best agent. You have been ever since you started going on official missions. We cannot afford to lose you."

Twilight opened his mouth to reply, but she held her hand up to stop him.

"I know how important family is. I know that you will not stop until you can make sure they are safe, and I know there is nothing I can do that could convince you to leave them."

Handler let herself lean back in her chair once again.

"We can keep giving you short-term missions, the kind you had when Strix was still in progress. You won't have as big of a budget to spend, but it will be a liveable wage. There will be times when we need you because you are the only one who can get the job done, but I will personally make sure you are only called away for something that no one else can do."

"Handler..." Twilight's voice trailed off as he found himself at a loss for words.

"Everyone deserves to be happy," She replied, opening her eyes and smiling at him. "You will never get the praise that public heroes do, you will never get the gratification of the masses for saving their lives, but you can get the love and appreciation of your family. God knows you deserve it."

Suddenly, Handler stood up, towering over the table and pointing a finger at Twilight.

"But I swear to God if you fuck this up and screw me over I will personally break every bone in your body, you got that?"

Instead of being intimidated, Loid smiled up at her, earnestly and honestly.

"Copy that."

Handler retracted into herself, folding her arms across her chest.

She huffed, before saying, "Well go on then, enjoy your sickeningly happy, domestic life."

Loid grinned at her, standing up from his chair and making his way to the door. He stepped through it and let the door close behind him without ever looking back.