As the four went upstairs, Darwin had questions. What happened? Why? How? However, he had seen his brother truly broken inside. Something he never imagined from the bottom of his heart he'd see happen to his energetic, outgoing brother. Well, Gumball was fine now, but he knew that he could never view his older brother in the same way.

As they worked into the night, Darwin watched his brother carefully. He acted as if nothing ever happened, making snarky remarks and giving the four a good laugh as he always did. Even so, he knew that Gumball had changed. In his eyes, at the very least. He had the revelation that his brother wasn't actually as selfish and egotistical as he thought.

"Ay listen up Gumball, there's no way that Cambodia is in Africa-" he started but was cut off by Nicole entering the room and sending a look at Gumball. He immediately left, leaving Darwin and the girls wondering what was happening.

"Where do you think he left?" asked Penny.

"To be honest, I have no idea," replied Darwin. "This happens quite often. It's like he has something else to do. Mrs. Mom says that it's homework, but I doubt it."

"Then how about you find out?" said Carrie.

"Okay, you two find sufficient evidence proving to the nutcase that Cambodia IS in Southeast Asia while I find out what's going on," he said, eliciting a smirk from the two. He slowly crept out of the room, and down the stairs to see what was going on, and hid round the bannister. He listened.

"Mom, I haven't slept properly in the last few days. Please can I just continue the project?" whined Gumball.

"There's a convoy with the files on Lexy coming downtown tonight, Gumball. You know you could finally find your sister," said Nicole.

"Well shit, I've been hearing that for a long time now, Mom."

"Every moment and opportunity we have with this god forsaken organisation is precious. We have been so nearly on their tail for a decade now. For the love of your own sister, Gumball, find out what's in that carriage."

"Whatever you say, Falcon," said Gumball, rolling his eyes.

"Best of luck, Nightshade," replied his mother, kissing his head. Darwin's eyes widened as he witnessed Gumball tap on the crucifix on his necklace. A mask enveloped his head, with two distinctive neon blue eye slits. Gumball put on a hoodie. Darwin gasped out as he realised who it was.

'Agent X', as Elmore called him at least, was known to be the town hero, bringing crime rates down and assassinating numerous gang leaders. He was pictured in a black mask with blue, almost glowing eye slits, and a black hoodie. The clothing of Gumball exactly matched the comic franchise which Sarah had started a few years ago, after allegedly 'meeting the man in person'. Gumball was the last person he would have suspected to be the mercenary, however it all added up. The kidnapping. A vow for revenge, which had materialised into this. It sent shivers down his spine knowing that Gumball had been the fantasised superhero that they both talked about so often, right under his nose.

That wasn't even the most chilling thing about it though. As he started to slowly make his way upstairs, his t-shirt was caught by a hand which pulled him back down the stairs.

"You do not tell a single soul about this. Understood?"

That demonic voice he heard as he realised that Agent X was essentially breathing down his neck. That being the same person who didn't understand that Cambodia was in Southeast Asia just a minute ago. He slowly nodded, as Gumball let go of him, gently, but with enough of a gesture that signalled to Darwin that he wasn't going to be particularly happy if that wasn't followed.

Gumball sped upstairs and into his parents' room. He opened the window, and immediately was on the roof. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he was well-aware that Darwin would have followed him downstairs like so. It had to happen sometime. He couldn't hide such a huge secret from his brother forever. He tapped on his ear.

"Falcon, do you copy?"

No answer.

"Ugh, Ana, do you copy?"

"Well, say the correct name if you want me to," came the voice from the other end. His suit had an implanted earbud linking to a radio communication system, like a walkie-talkie.

"Fucking hell. Right. Give me the location of the convoy."

"N35, E-120."

"Speak English."

"Corner of Husayn Drive with Molyneux Road."

"Time?"

"10PM. Hurry."

Gumball continued leaping from roof to roof until he was out of the residential area and well downtown. He put his hood on as he entered the train station, swiping his card on the reader to enter and sitting onboard the next train in the metro. The carriage was relatively empty, leaving him to observe the design of the train. He looked at the vibrant adverts and the patterned fabric seats of the train, noting how they were often obscured by the crowds of people on each train. They weren't anything new really, but it was just the first time he saw them clearly. He noticed the lights flicker as the train shook, something not out of the ordinary with the age of the trains. What was out of the ordinary was the man in the black suit opening the door between the carriages and slowly walking towards him. Well it wouldn't be anyone else, as the carriage was empty. He looked closely and noticed the glint of a blade.

Gumball hastily put on his steel knuckle covers over his black gloves, all discreetly making it look like he was asleep, and let the man walk by him. As he continued to sit, he made sure that he didn't move a muscle. The man stopped next to him and eyed him closely. Something about that man was similar, but he couldn't quite link up what it was. The tuxedo brand was unfamiliar, but he knew that face from somewhere.

Somewhere.

The man took out a knife and stabbed into Gumball-

The arm was caught before it even went close to his body.

Gumball flicked off his hood, revealing his distinctive mask, and threw the knife to the floor. He immediately jabbed straight into the man's face, letting crimson blood spurt everywhere from his now-disfigured nose, and uppercut him from the chin. The man was down in seconds. Gumball searched his pockets as soon as he slumped to the floor, unconscious. He found numerous pieces of paper, all in illegible handwriting. Taking careful care to not rip them, he slid the sheets into his inside pockets. He looked carefully at the man's golden badge.

Cobra.

That was where he knew the man from. He took it off and pocketed it, before taking a knife from his pocket and driving it into the man's chest. None of the agents of their group were deserving of being left alive. He took the knife out, cleaned the blood off with the man's tuxedo, and dragged the thug's corpse onto the platform of the next station as soon as the train stopped. He threw it onto the tracks of the adjacent train and re-entered the train. All he could see was the adjacent train speeding past at high speed as his train took off with it. He smiled. He tapped onto his ear again.

"Corsair, what's the time?" he muttered. Corsair was his digital assistant created by Anais and embedded into his suit system for his convenience (only after he begged her to do it, of course), and considering that he didn't bother to bring a watch, it was his source.

"9:50, Nightshade," replied the robotic female voice into his ear.

"Corsair, switch the visor colour to red."

"Switching colour to red."

His visor colour was the colour that glowed out of his eye slits in his mask, and considering that he wanted to infiltrate into his enemy's meeting, he needed to at least look different.

Yo guys, just cutting off here for the time being with an important AUTHOR'S NOTE. Notes like these will be in bold.

I dunno whether I explained this well, but basically Gumball has a necklace which when tapped, morphs (i.e. shapeshifts) into a bulletproof mask covering the entire of his face.

It is black with silver iron cheek plating and eye slits, underneath which is a holographic visor. Like Iron Man . The visor is the main bit which trademarks "Agent X" in the city of Elmore, so to make his identity a bit secret, he removes the cheek plating and changes the visor colour.

You're probably thinking Corsair? Really?

Don't ask.

Eventually, the train slowed to a halt. He arrived at his station. He got off, making sure to dust his shoulders, and casually made his way out of the subway to the pavement above.

The metropolis of Elmore was still teeming. Cars were still whizzing past High Street Molyneux's densely packed roads. Coruscating white lights from bars, diners and nightclubs blinded Gumball so much he was required to tint his visor, removing the glow entirely from his eye slits. A passer-by would have seen a young man under a hood, with his face completely obscured, wearing a black hoodie and joggers. Carrie would agree with the drip any day considering her love for what could only be described as monochrome goth clothing. As his eyes circumnavigated the high street shops and buildings, he crossed the road, jaywalking past a few cars, to the other side.

Husayn Drive, Husayn Drive, Husayn Drive - There it was. The bold capital letters on the white plaque, sitting in front of a red brick wall. A huge fluorescent coloured pointer sign was enough to tell him that it was a bar that he was entering into. Or a pub, if you were British. Actually, he had been in a British pub before, and they were nowhere near as glitz-and-glam as American pubs. They were rather cosy, and welcoming, with the Guinness stout and the paintings and the-

Gumball gained his composure before he lost himself in thought and opened the bar door and stepped inside. Elmore's local band The Void was playing a calm song on-stage. Gumball sat on the leather barstool and switched off his synthetic voice changer.

"Ay mate, anything I can get for ya?" asked the bartender. He was a stout Brit, about 5'9", and dressed in a black tuxedo.

"Just a Cosmopolitan," replied Gumball in a British accent. He had gone to numerous tutors over the years to aid his academic studies who spoke English in different accents, and so he had learned many different ones relatively well.

"Sure you don't want some Guinness, mate? We sell them here, and they're on a sale. 50% off as a tribute to the Late Queen," said the bartender in a cheery tone.

"Okay, get me a Guinness," said Gumball as he looked around the bar. It was pretty normal, with a bunch of guys drinking their hearts out, the usual jocks eating food with some girls. Gumball, of course, had no intention of drinking the Guinness. As soon as the bartender spun round to get another drink, he pushed it to one side and let it fall to the floor, shattering the beer mug it was in.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry," he said as he stood up from the chair. "I was just in a bit of a rush and-"

"It's fine, let me clean it up. D'ya want another one, on the house?" said the bartender as he came over. As he started to scrub and pick up the shattered glass fragments, Gumball took out his knife and pushed it against his throat, discreetly so that nobody could see.

"Where is the meeting?" he asked in his demonic artificial voice.

"Just at the back alleyway, mate. Go through the kitchen to the back door," said the Brit, his cheery voice wavering more than Liz Truss's popularity and shuddering.

Gumball fished out a few $10 notes from his pocket.

"Keep it," he said as he got up and walked towards the kitchen. He subsequently made sure to quickly take off his hood.

"You. Out." he said, taking out a revolver and pointing at the head chef. The head chef understood, and went out to the main lobby to dial the police. The other cooks quickly followed. He looked around. The back door! There it was! He put his hood back on, taking out the identification badge of his fallen adversary (who was busy rotting in pieces on a train track). He took in a deep breath and opened the door.

Nobody.

Gumball, relatively confused, looked around. In the side alleyway, there was nobody. The convoy wasn't there. Was the signal fake? Was COBRA aware of the covert operations of Anais?

A knife flying past his head and landing on the wall said it all. He looked up into the deathly magenta glowing eye slits of the Black Rose.

"You're new here," muttered her voice as she took a Colt out of her pocket.

"Woah woah woah, just here for the board meeting," said Gumball as he took out the identification card of the man who he more or less murdered a few minutes ago.

"Board meeting? Since when did you call it that?" asked the Agent. Her brows, or rather the part of her mask where her brows were, briefly furrowed before she beckoned him further into the alleyway. "You're late," she added.

Gumball followed, clutching the knife in his pocket. The assassin knocked on an obscured door in the shadows and muttered a code word before being let inside.

"Codeword is Parabella for this month. Don't forget it, Randy," she said to Gumball as she entered. He briefly followed as they entered the room.

"Randy's here, boss," said the Agent. Gumball looked up to see himself face to face with the thug who took his sister away from him all of those years ago. Gumball clenched his fists, but nothing materialised as his common sense kicked in and he took a seat.

"Gentlemen and women, we are here to discuss recent developments across our company. You may take notes if you wish," said the man. Gumball reached for his pocket and took out a scrap piece of paper as the man took out a notepad.

"First off, income. This month has made $1 million in terms of exports across our company. That's impressive, considering that half of our, well, let's call them 'customers', didn't receive our products."

"What do you mean by products?" asked Gumball, immediately interrupting the boss's speech.

"Well, Randy, you are aware of our coke sales off the dark web? SilkRoad is our main application for gaining our money - the poor brats are trying for cannabis online and before they know it their money disappears from their accounts. In fact a rather prominent businessman was trying to get hold of some before he, well, died. We quite clearly are aware of the threat that the Nightshade has to us."

"The Nightshade?" asked a lean young lad.

"Agent X god damn it. What do you expect? We are getting closer and closer to finding out who he really is, and we know that he's a sophomore in Elmore High," said the boss again. This prompted a heavy and cold bead of sweat to trickle down the back of his neck as his eyes widened. What was the important bit? The files on Lexy, oh yes, the files.

"Just a few steps and we can crush the brat," murmured the Agent Rose. Gumball's fists clenched.

As the 'conference' continued, Gumball looked around the room, carefully observing the room. His eyes settled on a shelf in a black ornate bookcase filled to the brim with different files. Gumball squinted, and soon enough, he saw the file with one word on it.

Lexy.

Indeed, it was a victory for him, well sort of. Now the only problem he had was accessing that file and getting out of the room before he was knifed to bits or before a bullet exploded his brains out. Normal stuff. He felt for his pocket for his smoke grenade, and silently cursed as he felt nothing. Of course he had to have used it on his mission in LA, where he managed to kick some butt. But now, he needed it far more than he needed it previously, and so he had to think of an alternative way.

"Oh by the way, I need to get some fresh air," said Rose as she stood up and walked out. Now was the perfect chance! He stood up and walked over to the cabinet, and took out the lever arch file which had the label of Lexy.

"Hey, what are you doing?" asked a guy from the table.

"Nothing much. Just catching up on some stuff that I missed," he replied.

"Weren't you on all of the last few tasks?"

"Not really," he said as he whispered to himself, Corsair, change the visor colour to blue , and he took his cheek plating out of his pocket and placed each respective plate on each cheek. He sighed as he contently put the file and walked to the door.

"Before you leave, Randy, make sure that you sign out for security," said the boss from the table, sliding a form down the table to the area beside him.

"Hold up, let me get my pen real quick," he said as he fumbled in his pocket for something. Oooh, was that a grenade? He took the cap off and chucked it under the table before turning to face the thugs before he left.

"Bye, you degenerate shits," he said as he closed the door and heard the rattle of gunfire on the door. But it was too late. He walked off, file in hand.

Chef Giorgio Marcio was quick to call the police after he saw the boy. In Elmore they called him Agent X, a mercenary who had lowered crime rates to an all-time dip. He knew that the vigilante was on the good side, but that didn't mean that he was a good person.

And that point was further reinforced when he heard a huge explosion which shook the ground beneath him, and the kitchen of the restaurant-pub complex was thrown into disarray as plates fell to the floor and shattered. Wine glasses fell out of their holders and shattered alongside them. Just as the police arrived, Marcio directed them to the rear door, where there was an open door to a room. They looked inside to see five men slumped in their chairs with papers sprawn everywhere and furniture overturned. PC Joseph 'Donut Cop' was among the police force called to the alleyway, and the sign that he saw tattooed to their arms was a dead giveaway to what had happened.

"The kid managed to kill some of them, hmph," he thought out loud. "Cops, get the files from here and send them to the FBI at once. We need to see these," he added, talking to the other officers.

"I wonder where he is…"

In fact, Gumball Watterson wasn't too far off. He was simply deeper in the alleyway, particularly smug about his mission outcome. He would simply flag down a taxi to get back to the Elmorean suburbs - there was no need for the chaos of people seeing him in public transport now. He took off all of his disguises as soon as he got to the other side, where a smaller road was. Sure enough, just outside another restaurant - an Italian called Marcio's, was a black Toyota Prius with the taxi sign right on top of it. He waved to the driver and entered the backseat.

"York Street, please," he said.

No answer.

"How much do you want? 15 bucks? 20?"

No answer there either.

"Ugh, what do you want, you shit-" he started before the barrel of a pistol pointed towards his chest.

"I want you to give me that file on my agent right now otherwise I will fire this bullet into your ribcage and shatter it," came the voice from the front. Gumball soon realised what kind of situation he was in, and froze. What should he have done at that moment?

Wouldn't taking his gun out compromise himself?

Ah fuck it, he was bound to get injured at the very best. He moved his hand from behind the seat and grasped the hand before twisting it and throwing the gun to the floor, disarming the man. The man reached for the file and pulled on the cover from Gumball's hands, and Gumball pulled back. He threw a hook directly to the man's concealed face and saw blood spitting out of his mouth. The man sent a cross straight at his chest, and the force of the punch shook Gumball and he was mildly nauseous. The man continued to grip onto the file as he tried to reach for the pistol from the floor, a choice which was not particularly well thought-out as Gumball kicked at him and sent him jerking into the dashboard of the Toyota. Gumball pulled the file away, but not before the man ripped out a piece of paper from it and clutched it in his hands before picking up the pistol and pointing it back at him.

"Look kid, I can shoot you and take that from you, but I don't want to kill a teen. So before this gets messy, give me the file," he repeated in his New Yorker accent. Gumball attempted a standard disarming again, but as he pushed the gun, the man fired, sending a bullet to his foot. Gumball gasped out in pain, and didn't hold back. He took out his knife, and stabbed the man in the throat multiple times, slashing his face and deforming it along the way before he finally sliced his throat, giving him a painful ending and making him slump backwards and lean into the chair.

Gumball had to get home. Fast. He could call 911, but what was the point? His mother knew his classmate Teri's mother as an orthopaedic doctor, and so he could save on some ridiculous bills. Including all of the faff with the insurance. It really wasn't worth it. And so Gumball reluctantly limped to a nearby bus stop, and stepped on his foot to ease out the pain and apply pressure to the wound.