XCOM Briefing Room

Praesidium

I raised an eyebrow at Gabriel.

"I'm sorry. Come again?"

He, the Commander, and Zhang exchanged glances before he continued. The hologram changed again, this time to a 3-D model of a fancy estate that looked like it was made from white marble or something. It was a three-story house that seemed a bit similar to the 'mansions' I'd see when my mom would binge-watch whatever drama/housewives/entitled bitch/whatever show was on that night. It had a large pavilion surrounding it, with a wall and several laser gates. It was covered in windows and had a main entrance with pillars surrounding it - it kind of reminded me of the White House.

"We've developed several plans to infiltrate Kaan's mansion and kill him," Zhang said. "The timing is optimal. He's holding a large gala in several days, and he's inviting numerous SAS diplomats and ambassadors from other countries to attend."

"So pretty much the entire diplomatic backbone of the SAS is gathering at one party?" Ana asked. "Sounds convenient."

Gabriel smirked. "Indeed, it most certainly is. But what's even more convenient is how we have obtained such plans."

The screen changed once again, to show an African man with the Ethiopian flag behind him. "This is Prime Minister Amir Trefe Ezana, current leader of Ethiopia. Recently, the SAS has reached out to him to gauge his interest in joining. However, Ezana here has decided to play both sides of the equation. Shortly after the initial communication, he reached out to ADVENT to express interest in joining. He and his government have been feeding us intel in exchange for…well, that's above our pay grade."

"Anyway." The Commander stepped in. "Long story short, his government got ahold of these plans through their connections. That's how we got the layout of the party."

"So that's why you wanted us to spare the Ethiopian water containers." Rafal commented, putting two and two together. "Because of their input."

"Correct. Now, the primary goal of Phase Two of Scimitar is to kill Kaan and neuter the SAS politically. Besides Kaan and some of his cronies, there's no one else within their reach that's as politically savvy as him. And this gala is the best way insofar to do that."

"Okay." Evelyn said. "But where does Dawn come in?"

"We're getting there." The hologram changed again, to show a young woman about my age with blonde hair. "This is Anja Becker, a twenty-year-old who works at Kaan's estate as a server, and has been there for about nine months. She, like her parents, are Afrikaners from South Africa who moved to Chad after De Klerk got out of power. Low-level staff, with no history of suspicion. Your ticket in."

"How so?" I asked, cocking my head. "I can't do an accent, and I don't even look like her."

"You have a very similar body shape to her- as well as some corresponding facial features. But thanks to advances in technology, we can, if you're up for it, disguise you."

"As her?" I said with a mix of shock and surprise, standing out of my chair. I think my heart almost shot up my throat. "I don't work for Intelligence. I don't know how to be a spy."

"We understand." Zhang interjected. "But in this case, that's not necessary. Nervousness is expected, but we have accounted for your previous lack of experience. Allow me to elaborate."

I furrowed my eyebrows, sitting back down. Zhang changed the display again, highlighting an underground section of the house in an x-ray grid format. "Originally, this house belonged to a high-ranking member of Chad's government who was purged when the SAS was formed. It was left empty until Tyres picked up Kaan back in Turkey, and he moved in shortly after. He had a few modifications done to it."

"Now, normally this level of infiltration wouldn't be necessary- just drop in with a Skyranger, teleport in, or even stage a full-frontal assault. However, if the alarms are activated, it's very likely Betos will send someone like Macula's Avatar, or some other operative on a similar power level. That's something we can't handle without a Sovereign Agent - something we can't spare right now."

The screen zoomed out to show both the house and the surrounding area. "Beneath the house is a security control room for things like cameras, gates, guards, that sort of thing. However, there is also a server in that basement room that controls a series of hidden anti-aircraft missiles buried in small bunkers surrounding the house."

"Kaan likes to go hunting, so you won't have to expect any kind of anti-personnel or vehicle mines. However, there are also several hidden turrets and movement along with the AA guns, which are also controlled from the server. The best way to eliminate this is to infiltrate the residence and destroy it from the inside."

"So…you want me to dress up as this woman, sneak in, and destroy this server?"

Gabriel nodded. "We'll provide you with more information if you choose to accept. But rest assured, we wouldn't be offering this to you if we didn't believe you could do it."

I narrowed my eyebrows, looking around the room.

Infiltrating this place?

Like a spy?

C'mon, this isn't like the movies.

But then again…

I had a very strange feeling like I should be doing this. After all, I've done so much already for XCOM. Maybe a little more…

It was a sudden change, but a welcome change.

If those two guys from the Internal Council trusted me so much, then why not?

Just like my grandfather.

I pursed my lips. "Okay. Sign me up. If you think I'm good enough for it, sir."

"Good." Zhang turned to the rest of the group. "Save her, you're all dismissed. More information will come shortly." He turned back to me as the rest of the crew filed out, along with the Commander and Gabriel. "Come with me, Dawn. We've got some things to discuss."

XCOM Intelligence Wing

Praesidium

I followed Zhang through some hallways and doors, deeper into the Intelligence section then I'd even been before.

"Are you nervous?" He asked.

"Honestly?" I said. "A little."

"Hm. Expected. You accepted faster than anticipated."

I shrugged. "Sir, at this point in the war, I just feel like I keep getting thrusted into more and more wacky situations. Guerilla ops, reversed kidnappings, African Stalingrad-"

"African Stalingrad?"

"Zuwara."

"Ah, that."

"Where's the Commander and Gabriel?"

"Other business. Gabriel has a number of tasks." Zhang shook his head. "An unusual man, but an excellent spy."

Another door opened on the opposite side of the room, and a woman in her mid-40s entered in an Intelligence uniform, holding a tablet.

"Dawn, this is Angela Baker, former MI6. She's been working on the intel relevant to Scimitar. She'll be the one who explains how you'll be going about this."

"Ah, hello!" She said in possibly the most British…well, British accent I'd ever heard. "So this is our new recruit."

I smirked. "I'm more of a voluntary donation than anything. But sure."

"Excellent. Take a seat, please." I did, while she and Zhang opened up another hologram display. "Thank you once again for agreeing to this somewhat unorthodox operation."

"My grandad was in the OSS, actually. I was thinking of him when I signed up for it."

"Oh really?" She asked, seeming intrigued.

"Oh yeah. He killed a whole bunch of concentration camp commandants and SS heads. I-"

"History talk later, everyone." Zhang interrupted, sitting down. "We're on a clock, and Kaan and the SAS aren't going to wait."

"Of course, sir." She turned her attention back to me. "Very well, Dawn." She changed the hologram to a picture of Anja. "You're aware of Miss Baker, correct?"

I nodded. "Yep. She's the person you want me to dress up as."

"Disguise is the preferred word here." She walked over to the side of the table, pushing a button and having a drawer slide out, holding several items. "Firstly, you'll need to look like Miss Becker."

She pulled out what looked like an extremely thin piece of….plastic? It looked like a very narrow sheet of a foil of sorts that reflected off the light on the ceiling. "This is something our operatives have been using for several months now. Think of it as a face mask of sorts. Basically, what we do is that we scan a person's face, then use next-generation 3-D printers to match said persons' facial features with perfect accuracy. Skin tone, dimples, eyebrows, scars, even skin cancer."

"And I just put it on?"

"Well, we apply it before the operation, but yes."

I nodded. It made sense - mostly. "But what about my eyes? Mine are brown, and they glow when I use my psionics."

She nodded confidently. "You'd be surprised how easy it is for us and ADVENT to get around that." She reached into the drawer and pulled out…contacts?

"Are those…?"

"Contacts indeed. They're modified to be reflective and much stronger to avoid people seeing the psionic glow. You put these guys on just like regular ones. Have you ever worn some before?"

I shook my head. "No. Never needed to wear glasses or anything."

"We'll show you, don't worry."

I nodded, turning to Zhang. "What's going to happen to the real Anja Becker and her family?"

"Don't worry about them," he said."They'll be extracted by our agents and be given false memories. We won't wipe their entire lives, of course. Just change a few things around and have them be immigrants in an ADVENT nation. They've committed no prosecutable crimes, nor have they aided the SAS in a military manner, so they're free from any legal action."

I looked away from Zhang for a moment, pretending to stare at the equipment.

They were really going to do this, weren't they?

Just wipe away months if not years of their lives gone, just so I could sneak into this one party and kill some people. Granted, important people, but still. I certainly didn't think Anja and her family were bad people by any means. Her mother and father worked in a warehouse and electric company respectively - nothing worth of military importance.

But they had to have friends there, connections. Relatives, maybe.

Was that worth just erasing forever?

No, it had to be.

Zhang obviously sensed my discomfort. "This is for the best - for us and them. Their lives will be better in ADVENT, and the sooner they are removed from Africa the better. What they are losing is comparatively minor compared to the impact of our success." He pursed his lips. "Considering the previous mission you were a part of, a fixation on a few months of memories of this woman is questionable. These are sacrifices for the mission, and all of us accept them."

I felt myself die a little inside as he nodded at Baker. "Continue, please."

"Of course. Besides that, we'll obviously copy her uniform for you using our various fabricators, so you won't have to worry about clothing. As for your disguise, your augmented skin is obviously going to draw some eyes. And that's where this comes in." She pulled out a canister about the size of a soda bottle and set it on the table. "I assume you've used makeup?"

"Of course."

"Think of this as a kind of full-body makeup. Simply apply this to as much of your skin as possible, and it'll cover up the obvious complexions and differences due to the MELD."

"And how long does it last?"

"Depends on the amount you have. This one here'll last you…" She did some math in her head. "About twenty-four hours. It's best you apply this in the shower. The chemical mixes with the water and lets it absorb into your skin for longer."

"So I just put it on like soap and it does the rest?"

She nodded. "There's different formulas to fake different skin tones and accents. There's one for your hair, too. Now, onto your gadget."

"Gadget?"

"What, you didn't think we'd just be sending you into a potential hot zone with just a fancy suit? No." She took out a phone and placed it on the table. "To anyone else, this looks like your regular SAS smartphone. After we blockaded them, they got the rest of their tech from the Collective. Apparently Fectorian had a hand in making them."

"So what does it do?"

"Everything a phone does. Call, text, google - well, their form of it, anyway. But this has a couple other features to it, too. Inside of this phone is an elerium explosive akin in power to that of a block of C4." She opened the phone, showing me the glowing home screen, and pointed to an app that looked like your typical run-of-the-mill time waster.

"If you want to activate it, open the app and you'll see a 'start game' button. When you hold it for five seconds and look directly at the screen, so the phone recognizes it's you. You'll have the choice to choose between ten, twenty, or thirty seconds for its timer. Once you choose, it'll start counting down. So if you're looking to blow through a wall or take out a group of people, this baby's your choice."

Zhang nodded. "The phone will also contain software directly from JULIAN's code. That means that once you're in the downstairs room, he will be able to hijack and slave the entire houses' systems. Everything from defenses to lights, it'll be ours."

"And then we take them out?" I asked.

"Pretty much." Zhang said.

"Do I get any guns?"

The two of them shook their heads. "There's not enough space in your outfit to conceal firearms of any kind, unfortunately. And you're a telepath, so I suppose you have something better than that in your head, I suppose."

I nodded. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Not at all." Zhang said. "Are you ready to prepare?"

"Let's do it."

XCOM Briefing Room

Praesidium

All of our team stood around the briefing table again, with the Commander and Zhang present.

"We've developed an infiltration plan to eliminate Kaan and the rest of his guests." Zhang announced. "The intel regarding his guests has been exceptional. Generals,military officers, as well as politicians in very influential positions will be there."

The Commander smirked, looking over the list. "Looks like this went from an assassination to a decapitation mission. If we kill even half of them, it's going to be the strategic equivalent of a shot to the knee for them. If we pull this off, they won't recover from this for months, if not years."

"If ever." Zhang corrected him. "The SAS' foreign policy will die with Kaan. And the loss of him and the gala's visitors will only weaken their morale. If anything, it'll make them think twice about pulling something." He looked at Rafal. "Please, proceed."

""Dawn here will perform the first half of the mission." He gestured to me. "Using her disguise, she'll infiltrate the mansion and do her regular job duties for a bit. Once Kaan enters, she'll make her way here, to the elevator door in the back." He pointed to the door, which lit up on the map. "Dawn?"

"I'll use my telepathy to have the guards let me through. Once I take the trip down, it shouldn't be hard to 'convince' the staff down there to deactivate the security using our resident AI." I waved my phone. "He should have them under control, and use them to trap everyone inside. The place has shutters and the like in the event of an aerial attack."

"And then the rest of you'll be teleported into the basement, if I recall." The Commander said. "Has the Chronicler assured you it's possible?"

Zhang nodded. "He can. Theoretically, if he wanted to, he could teleport us into Betos' house if he wanted to." He scoffed. "I'm partially surprised they haven't been using Mosrimor orbs to counteract that."

Rafal nodded, interjectecting. "Once that's done, we'll clean house. We'll separate the service staff to reduce unnecessary casualties if we have to, but no guarantees. If all of the VIPs are crowded in one area, it's going to be a hell of a lot easier to eliminate them."

"And if some manage to get out?"

"We'll chase them down. With no AA, Big Sky can monitor the ground and pick out any stragglers."

"And once you're finished?"

"Big Sky can extract us. If you want, we can recover Kaan's body for confirmation."

The Commander pursed his lips. "Good plan. Well done, Rothenstein." He turned to me. "I know there's most likely going to be psions there. Even so, do you think you can perhaps find some information from them?"

"I'll do my best, sir." I nodded. "No guarantees, though."

"Good." He turned back to the hologram. "If nothing else, I think we're all set. The gala begins in two days. I imagine you all can get some practice done before then. You're dismissed. Good luck, everyone."

En route to Residence of Hosmunt Kaan

The taxi slightly bounced as it rolled down the concrete road on the way to Kaan's mansion. I was in the back, wearing the exact replica of the women's tuxedo Anja and the rest of the staff wore. My 'phone' was in my pocket, my hands tight as I watched the GPS on the driver's dashboard.

It's gonna be okay.

Think of it like a party! Like prom, remember? Music? Food? Even snag a drink or two? No one's gonna notice!

I'd only been in the taxi for a few minutes now, but the anxiety was already slowly creeping into my mind. Thanks to a convenient teleportation and a wallet linked to a dummy account, I'd gotten a taxi with no issue. I had absolutely on intentions of doing anything to the driver- he wasn't a threat.

"So what's with the suit?" My driver asked. I hadn't bothered to ask his name yet. "Going to a party?" His English was pretty good.

"I work at Mr. Kaan's estate." My counterfeit accent was incredibly off-putting to me. I'd heard it in all sorts of media, but my best impression of it sounded like an incredibly butchered British accent. But this? One little chip 'glued' to my vocal cords and I sounded like I'd been in South Africa all my life. It was still off-putting to see my dummy face staring back at me through the rearview mirror. "I'm a waitress, pretty much."

"Ah, work for the SAS, do you?" He chuckled. "Bless 'em, I say. They've done nothing but good work since they came."

"Oh?' I asked, doing my best to suppress my annoyance. If I was going to be this deep in cover, I might as well try to get something from the opposite perspective.

"What, you don't like them?" He asked.

"No, no. Of course not!" I said, faking surprise. "No, I just…uh, just wanted to hear what you had to say."

"What don't I have to say?" He snorted, taking a right turn on the road. "Better infrastructure, no more blackouts, I can actually get reliable fuel for this baby." He patted the dashboard with one hand. "My grandkids have the best education they've ever known - hell, they know more than me!" He chuckled. "You know they're bringing in alien teachers for that?"

"Uh, not where I live."

"I guess you shouldn't be surprised if some come your way, then. We can actually trust the police, and say what you will about the government, but…They've taken care of us. I don't have to worry about money or security anymore. I feel like I'm at peace for the first time in god knows how long."

"Yeah." I nodded. "My parents are in the army, fighting those damn imperialists."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Well, were. ADVENT decided to pussy out. Damn war criminals decided to actually stop acting like animals for once. Heard some rumors that Christaens might get sacked."

"Hope that bitch does. I just don't get why they won't leave us alone, you know? I mean, look at you and me. I drive people around, and you serve food and fix people's tables. And we're the enemy for just wanting a better life?" He scoffed. "The SAS sure as hell doesn't send people off to the experimentation labs. Worst case, we just shoot them."

"Yeah. Pretty humane." I nodded, going along with him. "You, ah, heard about those Skull Brother fellows? Rumor has it they've been in some nasty shit recently."

"Sounds like ADVENT propaganda." He seemed to wave it off. "Betos may have been former ADVENT, but she wouldn't let that slide. So, ah, what do your parents do?"

Shit. Gotta think of something.

"Uh, mom's a combat engineer. Works on fortifications and stuff. Dad's a heavy weapons guy."

"Ah, good for them." He shook his head. "I can't imagine fighting psions. Those people are fucking scary."

"My parents haven't encountered any yet."

"Good for them. You know, one of my wife's friends' kids actually tested positive. They took him offworld to train with an Ethereal and some Sectoids."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah!" The guy sounded really enthusiastic. "He did great, apparently. He was so happy that he couldn't stop crying for days when he got back on leave!" He shook his head, laughing. "Bless 'em."

I couldn't help but feel bad for this man. He seemed like a jolly good fellow, a decent man with a job, a life, and a family. He had at least one kid and grandkid that, like him, seemed to have legitimately benefitted from the SAS. Better government, better security, better…well, from his point of view, practically everything. From the looks of it, he didn't have a care in the world, thanks to them.

But at the same time, his speed in shrugging off the Skull Brothers' legitimate war crimes and quickness in making excuses for Betos seemed off-putting at best, and at worst spoke 'I'm brainwashed'.

But then again - didn't I make excuses like that for the Commander and what he did?

What I did?

Poisoning the water just to get the job done?

"Hey, what's this?" He flicked on the radio. "Something's up with the broadcast."

"...Breaking news out of Tanzania, Zambia and Kenya at these late hours." The radio flickered to life. "Recent military bases in the three countries recently approached by SAS diplomats for talks have been ravaged by what appear to be Chryssalid attacks. Reports say as many as three thousand armed personnel so far have been killed."

"What?" He almost snarled. "The hell happened?"

"Chryssalids?" I asked. "Don't only the Collective have those?"

"Yeah."

"Large-scale riots and protests have broken out in Dodoma and Lusaka respectively, with thousands gathering in the streets in Nairobi. Reports of burning Betos effigies have been…"

The driver muttered something in his native language. "Doesn't it seem like the whole world is going to hell these days?"

"Can't argue with that. Going from high school to eldritch creatures is a hell of a wake-up call."

"Isn't it?"

He took a left turn onto a straight driveway leading up to the mansion, it's glowing lights illuminating the looming white structure of the place. All around it, various cars and crowds of people swarmed around the entrance.

"Guess this is as far as I can go, little lady." He shrugged. "You mind if I drop you right off by the gate?"

"That's fine. I doubt the guards'll let you in."

He stopped a couple feet in front of the gate, as some armed guards began to walk up to us. "Here." I reached into my wallet and pulled out my credit card. "Twenty percent tip."

His eyes lit up. "Feeling generous today?"

"Definitely. And….the talk helped. A lot."

"Really?" He chuckled. "My old man ranting didn't put you off?"

I shook my head. "No, no. Quite the opposite."

He took and scanned my card, giving it back to me as three guards in SAS armor wielding plasma rifles walked up to the taxi.

"You have business here tonight, sir?" The first asked as he rolled his window down.

"None." He said. "Just dropping the little lady off for her job."

As the second good scanned the car with what I figured was a bomb-scanning device, I got out of the car as the first approached me. "Name and occupation?"

"Anja Becker, service staff." I pulled out Anja's real ID card and handed it to him. "Am I late?"

He handed me the card back. "No. Place has been busy tonight. Hence the scanning. Hold still, please."

I nervously tensed as the third one scanned my face with some kind of camera. "What's this?"

Please don't see me.

"Facial recognition. Security's being buffed for tonight. With so many VIPs around, can't take any risks." The camera beeped.

"You're clear." The third said.

"Alright, you're good. For safety reasons, service staff and non-VIPs have to go in through the side entrance." He pointed to the mansions' right.

"Thank you." I said, walking to the gate as it slid open, giving a wave to the taxi driver, who gave one back as he backed up his car away from the gate, turning it around and driving off into the distance.

As I turned and began to walk towards the mansion, I couldn't help but feel a twang in my heart for the driver.

I hadn't even learned his name.

Residence of Hosmunt Kaan

As my shoes tapped on the concrete as I walked towards the side entrance, I couldn't help but stare at the huge crowd of people in the front of the pavilion. Suits and dresses were intermingled in the crowd, and valets were driving people's fancy cars to a garage to the left. Politicians and their wives were holding glasses of champagne carried by staff dressed like me while classical music flowed in through the front door. I think I saw a few Ferraris and even a Lamborghini parked in the garage. At certain points in the area, some aliens- Vitakarians, I think- were in armor, guarding the area.

So this is how the rich live.

"Anja! Hey, over here!"

I turned my head to the right as a girl my age ran over.

Who was this?

I racked my mind looking for the data from her social media I'd gotten.

Khari?

"Hey Khari." I said, hoping to whatever deity was real that I'd gotten her name right.

"Where've you been?" She ran up to me, giving me a surprise hug, which I returned. "You haven't been on your phone all day. Jeez, you're strong."

I released the hug. "Uh, sorry. I, uh, went to the gym today."

Fuck fuck fuck.

"Something happen with your phone?" She asked, her thick Hausa accent catching me off guard.

"Uh, the damn thing broke." I took out my phone, waving it. "Had to get a free upgrade."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened. "Is that one of the new models with Collective tech?"

"Uh, I guess so." Damn. Guess Zhang and the rest really had done some good work.

She giggled. "C'mon. Let's get to it. They brought a bunch of chefs in to help with the load, and damn they're uptight about order. C'mon."

I followed her to the side door, where two hulking Borelian guards in Lurainian armor wielding plasma rifles stood. What caught my eye were the paper tuxedos taped to their armor, along with their growl accentuating their English as they welcomed us in. I tried not to laugh as their somewhat monotone tone told us all that they definitely did not want to be here.

"Good evening."

"You are looking very well dressed."

"A reminder that Mister Kaan has ordered you all will be paid triple tonight for your services."

"Several bathrooms on the second floor are broken."

"Psions will be on the premises shortly."

Shit. Gonna have to do something about that. Fuck.

As we walked in, the various smells and sounds of the kitchen bombarded my senses, slightly cringing as the senses adjusted to the organized chaos of the mansions' backdrop. We all split up by group, people going to their designated areas.

"Anja, Kahri. Where have you two been?"

A woman in her sixties with a French accent walked up to us, looking like she was about to shit some bricks.

"We just got here, Miss Calvet." Khari spoke up first. "Uh, traffic, right?"

I nodded. "Traffic, ma'am."

"We have hungry guests coming in every second and I have food that needed to be delivered five minutes ago." She clapped her hands. "Get to it!"

As we began to walk away, she stopped us. "Oh, and for the sake of the party, Kaan's ordered that the alcohol restrictions on staff be lifted for tonight. Only one low-alcohol drink per person tonight, ladies!"

"Is she always such a bitch?" I asked once she was out of earshot.

"C'mon, she's French. What do you think?" Khari snickered. "C'mon. Let's not keep the bourgeois waiting."

We took the paper orders and went to pick up the trays. My god, the trays! They were huge silver platters covered with all sorts of food! Shrimp, lobster, caviar, and fruits I probably couldn't even name.

"Jeez, this is what the fat cats eat, huh?"

"What do you mean?" She asked. "We serve this everyday."

"Well, yeah. Just…all these higher-ups. Just makes me nervous, you know?"

"Hey, it'll be alright. Ease up. It's just a bunch of rich people."

"Yeah." I said as I moved away from her, reading the paper order. "Just a bunch of rich people."

Residence of Hosmunt Kaan

I walked onto the mansions' backyard- or really, it was a huge garden of sorts- carrying the tray in both hands. I scanned the area, picking out several SAS generals I faintly recognized.

And- shit!

I nearly dropped the tray as I stopped in my tracks, noticing two SAS psions, in their full black armor, standing in a no-so-incognito fashion near them.

Thank fuck. But I need to be careful.

Damnit.

I walked over to the group of generals, dressed in the SAS' officers' black and green, and gently set the food down.

"An order for Mister Bitumba?" I gently asked, trying to put on my best 'customer service' voice.

"Ah, the food's here."

"An order of shrimp and caviar?"

He nodded. "Thank you. Please leave the food here, thank you."

How nice.

As I silently placed the plates on the table, doing my best to not have my mouth water at the fruits and meats in front of me, I slipped into his mind, as well as his comrades' minds, doing my utmost best to stay cool. Their minds seemed completely unprotected - strange.

Where are the telepaths?

At first, nothing important. Just schedules and operations that already had happened. However, as I finished up placing what looked like some kind of crepe next to the main course, I found something interesting.

Knaag did what now?

I don't know. He brought in some Collective bioweapons people last week. Something about locusts and crops?

The hell is the man thinking? Is this some kind of joke?

I don't know. Ever since Zuwara the guy's been a little off his rocker. Apparently the Battlemaster's been letting him out to dry - in his words, of course.

I raised an eyebrow. What?

Shaking my head, I picked up the tray and walked away, trying to ignore the sweat creeping down my forehead.

Come on, come on, stay cool.

But where was Kaan?

I walked over to an impromptu bar set up behind the house, setting the tray down and waving over the bartender.

"Yes?"

You will give me a drink.

"I'd like a drink, please."

"What kind, ma'am?"

I looked at the menu, and smiled.

You know, if I'm going to die, I'm going to have to say this at least once in my life.

"How about a vodka martini? Shaken, not stirred."

"Isn't that-"

You will give me a drink.

"I will give you that drink." He slightly slurred, walking off to make the drink.

Kinda meta, but why not?

As I waited for the bartender, I focused my mind, closing my eyes and scanning the area around me, looking for Kaan. I sensed more people on the roof, some snipers scanning the area.

Hmmm….

I scanned the area more and more. The Ethiopians had gotten it all right. They really had delivered. Damn.

The drink came, and I waved off the bartender as I took a sip. Feeling the bitter kick and taste hit my throat as I almost retched, covering my mouth.

"Ah, god." I shook my head, coughing.

"Not your kind of thing?"

Khari walked up behind me, empty tray in hand. "I don't think that's what our boss meant."

I put it down. "It tastes like shit. Old people's taste buds are something else, eh?"

She shrugged, cocking her head. "You might want to get back inside. More orders are comin' ahead. Word in the kitchen says Kaan might be coming soon."

That perked me up. "What?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What's up with you, Anja? You seem real concerned about that."

"What? No! I thought he'd come later than this."

I felt that Khari thought something was off, so I went into her mind.

Anja is acting totally fine and normal tonight. You won't think anything of her behavior and find absolutely nothing suspicious about her at all. If anything, she is somewhat worried about the high-profile guests showing up here. As far as we remember, we've never seen such amounts of politicians and military staff here.

Her eyes glazed over for a second, before returning to normal. She scratched her head.

"I guess you're just nervous tonight. Can't blame you. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."

At least the second half of that was true- sure, you had the occasional general or so visit, but tonight's guest list was packed. Politicians, generals- all the good stuff.

But why were there no Skull Brothers here?

Psions were here, of course - that made sense. But you'd think that such elite operatives would've pretty much had to be here, even for show.

Odd.

I walked back inside, bringing more food to the societal elite of the SAS, all the while checking my watch and reading the crowd- literally. As I delivered fancy fruits, meats, and fishes to the various clothed tables, I couldn't help but take a peek at the entourage of people I was serving. To them, I was just another of the staff. But to me, they were all targets, my next table being no exception.

There was Hassian Okereke, Head of the Office of Special Projects, basically the SAS' military R&D. Sitting right across from him was Alix Obasan, one of the first women in the SAS to reach the rank of General, and had gained notoriety for her strategies in commanding armored vehicles. And next to her, striking up a conversation in Swahili, but very far from the last, was Femi Bosede, a rising star in what whispers from Africa had hinted to the SAS producing a potential navy using Andromedon stealth tech to counteract that Grady fellow - something that'd raised the hair of the Grand Admiral, and apparently warranted him being put on XCOM Intelligence's hit list.

It made me wonder how they'd react to what was coming.

As I walked back to the kitchen for a serving of stuffed lobster, a large commotion gathered at the main entrance. I immediately sensed two SAS telepaths, probably around Psion-class, appeared on my mental radar. The crowd of guests seemed to lighten up, some crowding around the main entrance. As I picked up the order on my tray and carrying it out the door, my heart skipped a beat as I laid eyes on the target.

Hosmunt Kaan.

The little worm who escaped us in Ankara, and was now living it up alongside his new friends. The man who sacrificed his whole county just for his ego, and as we came in and slaughtered his people, he ran.

Well - I guess dragged was the proper term.

He smiled and waved to the various officers and politicians that welcomed him, cameras flashing and people cheering as he shook their hands, speaking in accented Turkish and laughing.

Not yet.

I tried to ignore him and carry on with my 'job', placing food at empty tables with silverware and the like all laid out, waiting for their users who were currently fawning over the man of the hour.

"Hell of a crowd he turned up, huh?" Kahri remarked as I finished setting up the lobster. "Gives us more breathing room to do our jobs."

"Yeah, and a bigger mess for us to clean up." I gestured to the polished granite floor, already somewhat littered with decorations and the occasional bit of food. "Lord knows what kind of mess they're going to leave."

She shrugged. "Overtime pay, anyone?"

I snickered. "As long as I get my money."

We walked back to the kitchen, ready to take up more orders. And hoo boy, did we have our work cut out for us. Rushing from table to table, serving the fat cats who kept gorging and gorging themselves on all sorts of exotic foods that I couldn't pronounce, much less heard of in the first place.

You could tell there was such a disconnect from between here and the front lines. As the guests talked and laughed while their people died on the front lines miles from here- and why?

The SAS promised a new Africa, an upgrade from beyond Africans' wildest dreams. No more corruption, no more unstable governments, comfortable lives, protection from the forces that'd taken advantage of them.

Sounds good, right?

And while there were changes, as I stood here, among the highest of high of the SAS' political and military elite, something didn't feel right.

I mean…person with light skin goes to Africa, overthrows already established government, takes over, then uses population with a much darker skin tone to fulfill their own desires while taking advantage of them for their own purpose?

Hadn't I heard of this before?

I mean, what did Africa get out of a Collective victory? Sure, independence - I guess. But would they be ruled like the Vitakara, with all of the restrictions and 'freedoms' (or lack thereof, really)? I mean, by god, did ADVENT have problems, but weren't the people of the SAS aware of Paradise? The Sectoid's machinations?

How 'free' were they really?

And at the end of the day, was this just a revitalized and disguised status quo of the old continent?

"You don't seem tired as usual." Khari said, wiping sweat off her forehead as she finished giving some generals a turkey, snapping me out of it. "You're usually winded as all hell after this."

I shrugged. "Been working out more. Can't spend all day working."

"I guess." She pulled up her sleeves. "C'mon, let's head back to the kitchen. Looks like everyone's taking their seats."

I nodded, following her back to the kitchen, which had grown oddly silent. Everyone from chefs to inventory staff were crowding around one of the building managers.

"Kaan is planning to give his speech soon." He announced. "He wants everyone to witness it. There are some tables in the back right reserved for you all. Better take your seats. The show's about to start, you all."

I cursed under my breath.

Should I make my move now? Slip away? Go downstairs and hack the place while he talks?

I looked around to see everyone walking out and beginning to take their seats.

Maybe I should wait.

"C'mon Anja, let's go." Kahir touched my shoulder. "Don't you want a break?"

I shrugged, sighing as I followed her into the main hall, taking a peek at Kaan as he climbed up onto the impromptu stage surrounded by the two telepaths and several bulky Borelians in armor I didn't recognize, with yellow and black markings.

"What's with the alien's armor?" I asked my 'friend'.

"What, you haven't heard? Fat cats like him have been getting paranoid. Apparently the Collective sent along a token special forces with repainted armor to make them feel safe and cozy. Call themselves the Quasgararch. Means 'allied protector' or something, I think." She took a seat, as did I. "Don't know why they just didn't send them to the front lines if they were so important." She snorted. "Guess Betos lost a screw or two when that guy got his brains blown out."

"Yeah." I said in a monotone manner. "Wonder who did that."

The rest of us took our seats, a small barrier between our seating and the others (class division, anyone?) as Kaan tapped his wine glass with a fork, quieting the small crowd.

"Thank you all for coming tonight." He announced. "Before we get started, please thank my residence staff for setting everything up tonight. I don't have the Collective help me with everything, thank you very much."

A smattering of bored applause followed.

"I know that I have not been involved with our little organization as the rest of you." He said. "Compared to the rest of your service, I'm quite the newcomer."

Several people in the crowd chuckled.

"Doesn't mean I haven't been working, though." He tapped his glass. "Like the rest of you, I was somewhat surprised that ADVENT was able to reel in their barbarity with this 'Scipio' operation. But do not forget that it was not simply due to the 'Iron Chancellor' and her goodwill that stopped this. It was all of us, generals and politicians alike."

"Our SAS, while young, has learned much. Yes, our origins were not as clean and polished as we'd have liked, toppling leaders much like ADVENT. And while we did have help from Macula, whose companion rescued me from their clutches, look at what we have done in a little over a year. We have created a safe-and secure- society free from the mistakes and imperialist prejudices that plagued the old Africa. Corruption, infighting, crime, poverty, hunger- we have defeated that, and moved on, in favor of a better tomorrow for all of us, young and old. With the help of the Collective, we have cautiously avoided the mistakes that have turned ADVENT into the cold, ruthless, and inhuman political machine it has become."

"Unlike ADVENT, who prefers to conquer and encroach on others' territory, we've made an effort- yours truly not withstanding-" That got a few laughs and snorts from the crowd. "To peacefully ensure an entrance into our coalition rather than ADVENT. In fact, that's how my rescuer got here, actually." He chuckled. "They annexed his country, and now he's here, fighting against them."

More laughs.

"Do our children deserve a life where they must drink bottled water because the tap is laced with toxins?" He asked calmly. "Do they deserve a life where they must leave their homes because those in charge burn down their houses, gas their clean air, and ravage the land of their ancestors?" He asked, never raising his voice or yelling, simply shaking his head. "No. We have suffered the past so our children can have a world where the old world does not plague us anymore."

Some in the crowd clapped.

"Look at how we have conducted ourselves compared to our counterparts." He chuckled. "When we captured ADVENT soldiers, did we send them off to labs to be brutalized and experimented upon? No, we did not. We, unlike ADVENT, who does not hesitate to kill and maim for their own means, treated them civilly, as prisoners of war should be. And the Collective, our allies? Look at Damascus if you need further proof. The Battlemaster, who commands the legions of aliens, many of whom have sacrificed their lives for us so we may live better lives, has certainly proved himself more civil than the Commander or Christaens."

"When we conducted war against them, we did not resort to chemical weapons or mass bombings, but rather traditional methods of warfare. Macula himself made significant efforts to ensure all we captured from ADVENT in our initial strikes were taken without a scratch. Has ADVENT done such a thing?"

Many in the crowd shook their heads no.

"ADVENT calls the Ethereals monsters, manipulators, but look how they have benefitted us. They acted against their own whenever they broke ranks- look at Isomnum and Paradise. Sana'Ligna herself, the savior of the Vitakara, had a hand in our new healthcare system herself. It's thanks to her that vaccines exist against diseases that once ravaged us, like Ebola and Marburg."

Ebola vaccines? That sounds new.

He shook his head. "We have all done much to better the SAS, as have our alien allies. Let tonight be a celebration of all that we have done, and for what we will do."

He raised his wine glass. "To a better tomorrow."

The rest of the crowd raised their glasses.

"To a better tomorrow."

I raised my glass as well, mouthing the words.

It's time to kill this asshole.

"I gotta go to the bathroom." I whispered to Khari. "Number one."

"Don't be gone for too long. I'm sure they're gonna want us to do more service."

I winked. "We'll see."

I got up, taking advantage of the bustle of people moving about to slip out of the room, trying to remember the house plans I'd studied.

Bathroom…door…c'mon.

I walked past two guards guarding the banquet hall's exit, my mind already controlling theirs the moment one of them stepped up to ask me what I was doing.

"Bathroom." Was all I had to say for them to step aside as my shoes tapped against the floor. As the doors closed behind me, I took several turns, holding my stomach as if I had to go really bad, just in case.

As I moved down another hallway in the back end of the house, I found what I was looking for. Two heavily armored guards guarded the door that surely led to what I was looking for- quick mind check proved that.

"Hey, where are you going?" One of them asked me. "You're not allowed here!"

I faked having a serious case of an upset stomach. "This is a bathroom, right?"

"No!" The other said. "This is-"

"This is a bathroom, right?" I asked, already working my magic on them with my psionics. "I'm sure it is."

The two of them looked at each other. "Of-of course. Here's the bathroom. Right this way."

I nodded as they opened the elevator. "Can I have one of your guns?" I asked. "You look really tired. Can I carry that for you?"

"Sure." She nodded as she gave me her plasma pistol. I nodded.

Thanks.

The two of them collapsed as I stepped in and the elevator door closed.

Two more down.

As the elevator descended, I checked the magazine. Fully loaded. All right. Just a little more.

As the door opened, I stepped into a room with several technicians typing away on computers. Before they turned around to notice me, I was already in control.

Give me full access. Me and a couple of friends want in. We're late guests, trust me.

I walked over to one technician, already working on the house defenses. While the technician was obediently typing away commands on his keyboard, I pulled out my phone and turned it on.

"You can speak now, JULIAN. I know you're listening."

My phone lit up with a beep. "I apologize for not speaking earlier." He said in a mocking tone. "I was just so entertained watching you interact with dozens of people you and the others are about to kill."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Ever so unoriginal." He responded. "But as amusing as you were, Junior, I found it only mildly entertaining. And as you have given me access to the entire house's infrastructure, I shall present you with a gift."

The armory door down the hall slid open with a creak. While my minion was typing away, I walked down the hall and gaped at the armor.

"Is that…"

"Top-of-the-line SAS riot gear with all the trimmings? I suppose you humans can mount a decent defense after now. Now get cracking, monkey."

I looked at the armor's curved helmet, similar to a Russian Altyn helmet the Spetsnaz used to use, something I remembered Bronis talking about. The huge, bulking, football-like shoulders and shin pads. It sure as hell wasn't my Dominator armor- but it looked closer to Titan armor then anything.

I pulled out my phone. "Rafal, come in."

"We read you. Sky deposited us outside."

"How'd he manage that?"

"Chronicler was nice enough to make a portal big enough for him to fit through. Saves us the flying time. I take it the defenses are down?"

"Wouldn't be calling you if they weren't. You gonna move in soon?"

He snorted. "You know it. You might want to take cover. It's going to get very loud in there soon."

I looked at the riot armor on the wall, along with the huge machine gun hanging next to it. "You know, I appreciate the offer Rafal, but I think I'm gonna give you guys some help."

"How so?"

I set the phone down, taking the helmet off the rack. "If you see what looks like a jacked quarterback in armor carrying a gauss machine gun, don't shoot at it."

"Why? What are you planning?"

"To clean house."

Residence of Hosmunt Kaan

"Are you sure you can see through that?" JULIAN's voice echoed through my earpiece as the helmet's visor fogged and defogged repeatedly as the elevator made its way up.

"I'll be fine." I shrugged him off, the huge machine gun in my hands rattling as the elevator moved, its box-like magazine weighing down in my hand. "You seal the place?"

"Of course."

"Good." I nodded. "Rafal and the rest?"

"They're about to hit the front gate, ETA two minutes."

"Good. That's good." My voice sounded oddly cold and quiet, dripping with contempt. As the doors opened and I walked out, the boots thumping against the floor as I moved slowly towards the main hall, I could only think back all the way to the March, back to the wonderful Middle East my family had made such a habit of visiting.

As I marched closer and closer to the doors, I saw two guards posted at the doors. As they raised their guns at me, I killed them with a wave of my hand, pulling out my phone and trying awkwardly with the suit's thick gloves to mess with the buttons.

"Would you like me to set the timer?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Twenty seconds."

The phone's screen turned red with a pixelated white skull and crossbones, beginning a countdown.

19…

18…

"Dawn, we've got you on our scanners." Rafal hurriedly said as I approached the doors, thumping away in my boots. "What's going on?"

"Killing every single one of these motherfuckers." I said.

14…

13…

The service staff will all collectively get up and move to the far back of the room. I thought. That's where they'll be safe.

9…

8…

As I began to hear commotion in the hall, I cracked the door open and placed the phone on the floor, giving it a push as it slid across the floor towards Kaan's table.

5…

4…

The telepaths sensed me- as I did them - and in less then a second, they were both dead.

3…

2…

Freeze.

The entire crowd of traitors and aliens froze.

1…

A green explosion illuminated the hall, killing dozens in an instant. Tables, chairs, and bodies were shattered as several were outright incinerated as the nearly ear-splitting explosion shook the mansion's foundation, shattering windows as well as bones. Kaan himself had no chance to react before his body was thrown across the room, his body slamming into the wall, cracking bones as his limp form slumped to the ground.

I kicked down the doors with my armored boot, taking an aim at Kaan's table. With a pull of the trigger, the aegii's head exploding into a cloud of rest mist. I turned the gun on the teleking, putting several rounds through her neck. The huge gun shook in my grip, the thk-thk-thk sound of the firearm spewing out heavy gauss rounds muted through my thick helmet.

"That's our cue!"

In the distance, the gate's structure was ripped from its foundation with a telekinetic pull as the forms of the rest of my team mowed down the guards in front. I kept watch out of the corner of my eye as I sprayed the machine gun across the linen-covered tables as several officers began to recover from the telepathic attack and attempt to pull out their own firearms, only for both themselves and their tables to get ripped to shreds, splinters of wood, fragments of porcelain and silverware flew about as the sheer kinetic force of the rounds tore everything apart.

Nothing to protect you now.

No hired goons.

No psions.

As I continued firing, several glass windows shattered as my team tossed in several plasma grenades, causing those who'd evaded my gun to try and run for the doors, only for the thundering green blasts to tear the room apart in a verdant fire causing walls to cave in and collapse as the team climbed in through the windows, opening up with their own weapons and powers.

Evelyn used her telekinesis to throw a group of politicians huddling by the stage into the wall and slam them down onto the floor in a brutal show of psionic force. Cataldo opened up with his large cannon, riddling the wall and floor with holes, taking out a group of officers trying to scurry for a comrade's fallen gun.

As my gun ran out of ammunition, I turned to look at the service staff, hiding in the back. They'd escaped the massive destruction we'd wrought upon the mansion, as their part of the dining room was a ways away from the main crowding of tables.

"Dawn? You okay?" Rafal ran over to me, using his sidearm instead of his sniper to score a bloody headshot on a general trying to return fire.

"Besides burning up in this thing?" I snorted. "Fine."

"Hell of a job you've pulled off!" He shouted. "I think someone in the SAS is going to get yelled at." he tossed a grenade at a relatively untouched table, the explosion sending bodies flying. "Is Kaan dead?"

"Dunno." I pointed over to his limp body at the far end of the room. "Maybe. What do we do about the staff?"

He shrugged. "Have 'em leave if you want to. Check that none of the targets decided to slip in with 'em."

I nodded, pulling out the spare pistol I swiped and walking over to the staff, who all yelped and shielded themselves as they saw me walk over.

"Relax." I put on my best 'calm voice. "No one here's gonna get hurt." I pointed at the shattered remains of the entrance. "You all can go."

They all still stared at me with widened eyes.

"I'm serious. Go, scram!" I waved my gun at the door. "Go!"

They looked at the entrance reluctantly, then took off like a Black Friday mob as they ran outside as I psionically probed their minds to make sure none of the targets had gotten away. As they took off, I saw Kahir stop and look at me. I don't think she could tell who I was as the thickness of the helmet along with its modulator, but I looked right into her eyes for a moment.

Run. Get away from this place.

She took off with the rest, disappearing onto the road.

I turned back to my team, who was cleaning up, poking and shooting the decrepit and bloodied bodies scattered over the place. In less than a few minutes, we'd turned this place from a glittering, fancy place with gold leafing walls, shiny marble floors, and glimmering crystal chandeliers to a burnt-out, wrecked husk of a house.

Part of me was surprised the whole place hadn't collapsed on itself yet.

"Are they gone?" Rafal asked. I nodded. "Well then. Hey, guess who's still alive." He gestured to Kaan, whose head was slightly moving.

"Shit." I said. "You get anything out of him?"

He shook his head. "You're up. After that, he's all yours."

I nodded, walking over to the broken man, watching blood drip out of his mouth as it stained his suit. I took a knee in front of him,

"X-x-XCOM?" He stuttered. "All-all the way here?"

I said nothing, only staring in contempt at him.

"Your audacity of destruction-" He coughed loudly. "Never ceases to amaze me. You tear an entire city down just for me, and now my very home. You could not hold off raping this continent, you western imperialist filth-"

I grabbed his throat with an iron fist, squeezing his neck as I entered his mind. "Shut up."

Let's see…meetings, meetings, meetings…

Knaag, Tyres, and Keeper appeared quite a bit, flashing through my mind like a movie.

"I'm not sure if I can process all of this." I released my grip on him. "Can we extract him?"

He nodded. "Ana, put him to sleep."

The Russian woman nodded, pulling something out of her armor, priming it, and jabbing it into Kaan's neck. After a moment, he slumped over, and Ana slung him over her shoulder.

"We should go." She said. "SAS has got to have heard all of this chaos."

Rafal nodded. "Big SKy to Rafal, we need imminent extraction. We don't want to overstay our welcome here."

"Acknowledged, Squad Overseer. I'm inbound."

Residence of Hosmunt Kaan

The Skyranger's engines roared as it took off from the burning mansion, its structure slowly collapsing onto itself as it was engulfed in orange flames. I sat right at the back, as close to the door as possible, watching it burn, the staff already long gone, fleeing into the night.

For some reason, I couldn't help but feel a teeny bit pleased at what I'd done. It'd take years to fix and replace what we'd torn down today- time the SAS probably wouldn't have.

Or would they?

For as much pushing as we did, the Collective could've easily pushed back again even harder the next day. Obviously, T'Leth was the deciding factor there, because when it came down to something that powerful against everything the Collective had…

Well, it tended to put things in perspective, now didn't it?

But, like every other mission before, as much as I took pleasure in taking revenge on the creme de la creme of the SAS, in the context of the galactic Collective, it was barely a blip on their radar. If they wanted to, the Collective could've just as easily put an alien in his place. Be it one man, one city, the Collective could usually shrug it off.

All of these missions, here and there, were pushing just a little more.

Buying time, obviously.

But for what?

If these Ethereals and their Sovereign were so damn smart, why hadn't they already won? Or better yet, how come they hadn't used their millenia of intelligence to realize how underprepared they were for our Sovereigns, or dealing with them for that matter?

Which brought up another thought.

How really committed to the Imperator's cause were the rest of his kind? How many were true believers, and how many went along either in apathy or to further their own agenda? How many are at the point of sunk-cost and keep on going because they can't pay their dues?

But then again, it was easy to forget the Imperator was a child, after all. Younger than Caelior of all people.

So why did they trust him to lead for all this time?

The Imperator's path was pretty clear: fight the Sovereigns, misguided as he was, and copy them whenever possible. Conquering species like yours truly, using them as cannon fodder, and copying Sovereign Avatars like a Chinese ripoff, such and such. Hell, it could even be argued that he had inadvertently become a puppet of Mosrimor.

And what had it gotten them?

Where had it gotten them?

How could they not have realized what he was doing?

Where it was going?

Why hadn't they replaced him or overthrown him?

Why had they not acted when those who obviously had a point were just…thrown away? Cast aside? Ignored? The Collective wasn't anywhere close to a cult of personality, I knew that much.

And as the door closed, Kaan's bound and limp body slumped on one of the seats, I knew I might have had an answer.

The Ethereals had failed.

When I looked at Aegis and Caelior, I didn't see a failed species. I saw people who had changed. Adapted. Mostly, anyway.

But an argument could easily be made against the two. Had Earth never been found or existed, would Aegis had ever actually acted on his digressions against the Imperator? If Caelior had never been beaten, truly, would he have changed his mind?

Methinks otherwise.

Like Kaan, they tried to change, but at the end of the day, they were still stuck in the old ways. Kaan's dream of an independent Turkey and a second Ottoman Empire (seriously?) failed, so he went to Africa, where he would, like the West before him, with his co-conspirators, use the people of the continent as a tool for his own means.

Sure, one could be argued that the Ethereals had changed. They were no longer isolationist xenophobes - mostly. But they still put themselves on top of the pedestal, as they always did. Their barbarity of the Mutons compared to the bloodlust of their own history, the campaigns of Gharn Mgyis and Krenall Systems coming to mind.

Two campaign of genocide a certain sword-wielding fellow had participated in.

They hadn't learned, they hadn't grown.

They were still stagnant.

And they were learning the wrong lessons.

And they were going to drag down all of us with them.

They couldn't be trusted to have the reigns of the galaxy anymore.

They had to step down.

But you want to know the weirdest part?

I didn't know who should take that mantle after them.

Or even if there should be one at all.

A/N:

Hi everyone. Hope you enjoyed this little 2-parter arc. It was a ton of fun to write. For those of you who don't know, the reason Xabiar hasn't updated Advent Directive in a while is due to him taking time off to complete the Hades Contingency revision. As such, with this hiatus in AD, the story this relies on, I have decided as well to take a hiatus. It's going to end for certain when Xabiar goes back to writing AD, so it'll definitely be sometime in March.

No worries, though - just because I'm taking time off doesn't mean I won't be doing something. I've got a couple plans in mind for New Blood that I think you readers will like a lot. Arcs, plans, battles- all in good time, I promise.

As for me, I'll be focusing more on my personal life and school life. Academics right now have been a bit shaky recently, more than they've ever been. Adding on to that, I'm looking into applying to study abroad, probably in Germany, so…yeah, lots of stuff going on!

Again, I know I've probably said this a lot, but thank you to everyone that reads. Whether you review, comment, DM, or give a quick skim, every input helps.

I want to mention one comment in particular, a bookmark on AO3 posted a little over a year ago, from the reader 'Corn_Muffins'. Here's what they said:

'In my opinion, the best of the side-stories for Xabiarverse. Any doubts or negative preconceptions I had about Dawn being introduced to XCOM in the main story are completely and entirely dispelled through WeedTester's portrayal of her character, her lot in life in XCOM, doubts, fears, and character relations. It managed to expand on other characters much more too, and in some ways subverted my expectations for the better.'

You HAVE to read The Advent Directive and the rest of the trilogy by Xabiar to understand this. But, once you do? This should be on your list to read next.'

I can't tell you all how pleased I was to see this comment. Seeing Dawn go from a surprising introduction to a loveable, fleshed-out character is something I'm immensely proud of. I didn't do it alone, of course. Xabiar, King, Mooloor, Gemini, Egg, DarkHorse- every single person, mentioned or not mentioned, who've helped me write this, you've all done a great job, and I'm thankful for it. I know I've had some highs and lows, good and bad moments, et cetera, et cetera, but thank you for sticking with me.

Vigilo Confido,

OfficialWeedTesterGuy

To be continued in:

Spicing Things Up