A high-pitched whine drew her attention from the TV and suddenly, vivid images flooded into her mind.

A dark alley. A pool of blood. A man, struggling against three others, bones broken and hands bound. A shout. A gun, aimed towards his leg. A flash and he screamed —

"Papa!" Anya shrieked and jumped out of her seat, before rushing towards the door with Bond. She could vaguely hear her Mama calling her name in surprise, but all Anya was thinking about was to go out, out of the building, two blocks from here, where her Papa was—

"Anya!"

A hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, shaking her out of her haze. Strong arms lifted her up and she was met with concerned red eyes.

"What's wrong?" Yor asked, noticing her daughter's agitation. "It's already late, why so suddenly—"

"Papa, Papa's in there!" Anya hiccuped and struggled against her mother's hold. "Mama, help—Papa, he, b-bad men want to c-capture Papa and... and…"

Yor's eyes narrowed. But not because of Anya's words; she looked up and scanned the roofline with sharp eyes instead. As if looking for something suspicious.

A masked presence , Anya heard her thoughts. But they can't fully hide their killing intent. A hitman?

Anya shuddered. Her Mama was a kind assassin, but Anya had seen real bad men. They were worse than the villains in Spy Wars, worse than the adults back in the facility, way worse than the drunk caretaker in the orphanage. A real bad man does not hesitate to kill people. And Bond had shown her a horrific future of her Papa against bad assassins.

She had to help her Papa. They had to help him.

But her Mama must have thought otherwise because she decided to carry her back home instead.

"It's dangerous outside," Yor said, forcing a smile. "Why don't we wait for your Papa at home? I'm sure he—"

Bond whined loudly, interrupting her, and nudged Anya's elbow. Once again, static images appeared in her mind.

A gag. A dagger. A slashing cut, across the eyes. Face contorting in pain as blood, blood, blood poured out of him. A dart, stabbed into his neck, and he finally stopped struggling—

"A-Anya!" Yor yelped when Anya bit her arm. It didn't hurt, but Yor was forced to let go of her daughter. Anya plopped onto Bond, and the large dog immediately ran towards where the future scene would occur. "Anya, wait—!"

The wind whistled sharply behind her, followed by a harsh metallic clang. Anya peeked over her shoulder to see Yor blocking some projectiles aimed towards Bond. The hiding bad man had made a move.

Anya faced forward and squeezed her eyes shut. It'd be alright. Her Mama was strong. She had also heard the assassin exclaiming in surprise when Yor took out her signature daggers. Her Mama would be alright.

But her Papa wouldn't be alright if Anya didn't hurry.

"Faster, Bond!" Anya urged her dog. Bond barked and increased his speed. Tears inevitably leaked from her eyes as the future scene continued to rewind in her head.

All of a sudden, Bond jerked sideways. Something whizzed past her as another projectile hit Bond's leg. Yowling in pain, Bond stumbled and fell, and Anya was forced to tumble down with him.

"Bond!" Anya screamed and scrambled towards him. Thankfully, he was still alive. He pulled her sleeve towards an alley as clanging sounds resounded in the background. Anya gasped when she spotted red on his white fur. "Y-You're bleeding, Bond!"

Bond whined. He was clearly terrified, his body trembling and his tail tucked between his legs, but he still limped further into the alley towards where the Forger patriarch was. Anya wasn't any better; the painful scrapes all over her exposed skin made her tear up even more. But her Papa was in danger. He was the first true family she had ever had, and the thought of losing him forever was unbearable.

"H-Hide here, Bond," Anya pushed the dog behind a dumpster. She patted his head when he nudged her in protest. "You're h-hurt. You can b-barely walk. Anya…Anya will s-save Papa instead."

Anya straightened up. She rubbed her teary eyes before making her way deeper into the alleyway. It was okay. She had seen the future. She could change it. She could save her Papa and he'd be back home with her and Mama and Bond.

Everything would be alright.

.

.

.

Except, it didn't.

Anya wailed, because her Papa was limp and bleeding and unmoving . A fight broke out in the background once her Mama arrived, but her Papa had his eyes closed and he refused to respond no matter how much Anya shook him and called his name. She cried and cried and cried, begging for him to wake up, because she had known the future and she could change it, but it ended up worse.

And it was all her fault.