Commercials seemed to last hours as Ilya tried remember. She tried to remember, but other thoughts kept attacking her conscious similar to that earlier in morning.

A little girl stood in front a gravestone, as the wind blew harshly threw the valley. Her wide, tear-filled eyes focused on the fresh dirt in front of the grave. It was almost covered by flowers of sorts that came from friends and relatives of the deceased, but the dark-haired girl could still touch the earth.

"Mommy, will you hold the door for me?"

Was Ilya finally going to go through that door?

No, no, no, no. Not now, not now, not now.

"Now, the infamous bomber whose alias has been widely spread as Rider has finally been identified. This is the first time the criminals name has been released"

Ilya heart sped up, Kira was watching. Kira. Kira. Kira.

No, no, no, no. Time was running out.

"After suspicious activity, Rider has been identified as a student in New York."

Ilya's heart lurched. Across the country, another criminal felt the same feeling.

'God damn it all.'

"Rider has been identified as . . . -"

Across the world, another criminal readied a pen to write the bomber's name. Oh, the glee it would bring him, to bring the elusive Rider down, to cleanse the world from evil criminals. Even if he has become one.

Adrenaline pumped threw Ilya's veins, but she couldnt do anything about the situation. She bit her lip, and undid her ponytail so that ebony locks traced along her mid-stomach. Her bangs hid her clear, icy eyes.

Was this her last breath?

Silence, save the beating of her heart.

Buh-bump, Buh-bump, Buh-bump, Buh-bump.

Was all he worked for down the drain?

Silence, save the beating of his heart.

Buh-bump, Buh-bump, Buh-bump, Buh-bump.

Was this his win against crime?

Silence, save the beating of his heart.

Buh-bump, Buh-bump, Buh-bump, Buh-bump.

It felt like an eternity, but it was only a second in which the anchorman had taken in a breath. The world waited anxiously.

And everyone around me says, "Your time is running out".

"Adam Beckler. Who is currently 19 years old, and attends an accounting college in New York. However, he has gone threw multiple psychological problems, and has obsessed over the thought of explosives since he was young . . ."

The mans voice drifted away as Ilya's orbs stared into that of the picture of Adam Beckler. Scruffy brown hair, slightly overweight physique, hazel eyes with thin glasses perched on the edge of his round nose.

". . . That was way too close for comfort."

Ilya's mouth was agape, and her head tilted to the side.

However, in Japan, opposite emotions were shared. Kira imaged that poor man's face, as he scribbled down the name, grinning psychotically.

"I have won, Raida!! You put up a great fight for such scum as yourself; but justice always prevails."

With dark turquoise eyes, the last viewer stuffed his chocolate back in his mouth.

"It's time to make our move; now!!"

Hours later, Charlotte got back to the house and seemed normal, as always. But she wasnt so sure about Ilya.

"Hey, girl, you seem really pale, 'ya alright?"

"You won't believe what just happened, Charlotte."

Preview

"-Ladies, and Gentlemen, I repeat, our TV station has been held captive by Rider. I repeat, this is no joke. "

Alarms rang in the young womans head as she felt the mans hand being removed and a new cloth being tied tightly around her mouth, around her knees, and around her wrists.

But there was one thing on her one-track mind; did they know her true indentity under the facade?