Angela rapped the pen on her desk impatiently. She gazed out at the empty space in front of her, as she replayed the nightmarish scene in her head over and over again. She could remember the sharp crack resounding throughout the air, the panic that soon incited when the body was discovered. She could remember the models and actors and duelists scrambling out of the way, their agents determined not to let anymore of their artificial innocence vanish. She could remember how frantically everyone was trying to report, all the while endeavoring to get away from the body, trampling down other colleagues if only to try and escape the dreadful atmosphere. She could remember the security guards scouring all over that building, endeavoring to find the perpetrator, to determine what the connection was between this victim and all the rest.

Judging from what'd happened just last night, as well as the articles she's read this morning, it seems that now, the entire city was in panic. Yet another politician had died, this time on screen, and people were beginning to demand some sort of explanation. They kept asking why this was happening, what their society did to piss a madman off. Some were already going to Sector Security, trying to get some sort of protection for their friends and family. Others, in the meantime, were busy interrogating the families, asking what they knew of the incident. The whole thing was uncalled for, but in the end, it was the only thing the public knew how to do, aside from rioting.

And it didn't stop there. The entire ordeal brought up civil issues as to how the Bureau was organized. With the recent conspiracy theories floating around, people were also asking if this was a planned public execution by the government. Many independent parties were signing petitions to restructure the system, while a few others demanded that the current officials step down immediately.

And yet, what stood out the most to the reporter, was that, unlike the last victims, this one had no connection to Goodwin.

It'd only been a few months ago when he took office actually. No connection to the criminal underground, no scandal to keep him down, nothing at all to stop him from attaining whatever position he wanted. Despite everything that's happened, he was perhaps the most noncontroversial candidate of them all, so much so people wondered if he had any enemies at all. Always humble, always friendly, and though there were a lot of people who thought him annoying, no one could hate him. His family life was seemingly perfect, and in the event that he did make a mistake, he always made up for it with a piece of legislation he slapped down in front of the office, one that satisfied everyone. And he was mature too, diplomatic, in a sense; he did everything as he was supposed to, but he always added his own flare to it. He was daring, risky, and, in Angela's opinion, handsome. Everyone loved him. He was the only one Angela refused to cause any trouble for, or even pry for information.

So why?

Why did he die?

The victims' names kept swirling in her mind, their faces becoming more and more pronounced with each passing day. Explanation upon explanation piled up in her thoughts. Automatically, she started scanning through them, trying to find the best way to sum up this whole mess. Perhaps it really was the work of a terrorist. Or maybe there was something scandalous going on in the criminal underbelly of the city, and Angela needed to start with the former Satellite areas. Perhaps she needed to turn away from the families, and steal the bodies from the funeral homes altogether, if only to get some answers as to what had happened before they died. Though her way might be a bit unorthodox, it was the only thing Angela could come up with for the moment.

The entire thing was so funny she could just throw up.

Her eyes flickered down to her cellphone. Lately, she'd been receiving so many updates from that kid, Yuki. He sent her everything he'd seen so far, from the notes he's made, to the analyses of each and every article about the topic he's come across, to even the newest ways of looking at things. It was a testament to how hard he actually worked, and although the updates have gotten slower over the last few days, it was more than Angela could've pulled off in a few months. It helped to know that the kid was interested in the case, and since he was taking initiative in writing and rewriting his observations over and over again, it was safe to say the reporter found a helper in him; wonderful almost. She respected his ability, to the point where she actually considered putting him down as the co-author of the article.

As she scrolled down Yuki's newest findings, some about the recent developments in the investigation, others about the victims' backstories, her mind kept returning to the recent murder.

No; according to her editor, she shouldn't call it a murder, since it didn't seem to fit with anything in the files.

"Label it a suicide," was what the editor stated.

Angela stared back down at her phone, reading through the countless number of articles she'd received just moments ago. As she kept on, her finger moving rapidly through the screen, her eyes scanning the words with the upmost certainty, she allowed her brain to continue its pointless wandering, jumping from one lead to the next.

Sector Security was leading the investigation, wasn't it? Goodwin used to lead them, and though rumors of scandals did leak to the public, somehow, Goodwin managed to put them down. Angela was never one to stay for old news, so like the rest, she left, searching for a newer, more exciting story to share with the world. Though everyone loved a good scandal every now and then, there came a time when those things just got old, and the public stopped paying attention. Perhaps it's because they knew politics was a dirty battle, and whenever someone got caught trying to play its rules, they all turned a blind eye. Maybe it's because everyone loved Goodwin, and no one wanted to believe he was just like the rest of the corrupted filth running the city. Though there was nothing that could've possibly separated him from the other officials, with the exception of Jack Atlas, he managed to maintain the public's affections. Angela was, one more than one occasion, suspicious, but eventually, she simply allowed her paranoia to die, and forced herself to focus on more relevant topics.

Despite all that, the reporter found herself returning to the topic at hand. Goodwin was definitely covering something up, but that was only for Atlas being from the Satellite. Besides that, there was nothing particularly noteworthy to take down.

But when she caught sight of one, single sentence, hidden deep in the report, she froze.

This was it.

This was her lead.

The phone rang, just a few seconds after.

She narrowed her eyes, screaming inwardly in frustration. She swiped up the phone up, and placed it against her ears. "Hello?" she demanded.

"…Ms. Raines?" a girl asked timidly.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"It's ah…it's Alexis. Jaden's friend."

Alexis…

The kid's friend.

For some reason, whenever Angela called Yuki, Alexis would always be there. As of this point, since Alexis seemed to be the mediator between the two, Angela had to accept the fact that the girl was working with Yuki and she. Personally, though Angela really didn't like the girl, in the end it was clear Yuki wasn't going to work at all unless Alexis was there with him. So, however reluctant the reporter was, she just had to accept the girl's presence.

And it was through that logic she managed to calm a bit. Angela leaned back in her seat, her restlessness beginning to fade from her system. "Right," she sighed. "What is it?"

"Um, Jaden says we'll be able to get a picture of the bodies. Tonight."

A curious light shown through her eyes. Questions started filling her mind, but no sooner had they appeared did Angela shut them down. "Do it then. Tell him I expect to see those pictures first thing tomorrow."

"Got it." And with that, Alexis hung up.

Angela breathed a deep, heavy sigh, before looking over the articles again. That was another thing about the two; somehow, they managed to get everything done, no matter how impossible it may seem. They were willing to go the lengths Angela wasn't, break any rule for the sake of the truth. As long as they kept their actions hidden, Angela wouldn't have told anyone about them, anyone at all. Besides, who knows? Maybe she could use them to get some leads on some other stories she's been following.

"ANGELA!"

She jolted, then looked up; the cameraman. "What is it?"

"Get out here! We've gotta go now!"

She narrowed her eyes. Slowly, she stood up and grabbed her microphone. "Why? What happened-?"

"Someone just hijacked LH Mall!"

She froze. "What?"

"It's true! It's the killers! The ones everyone's after!"

Bodies.

That was the first thing Akiza saw.

There were bodies scattered all over, twitching, crying out breathlessly, with that same, frightened light in their eyes. Warm tears fell from their still, glassy pupils, the red bleeding out from under them. Dark stains coated from their white, clean clothes, as the silence filled their lungs, the air eagerly escaping from them.

And she could only watch.

She could barely move.

She couldn't even breathe.

"ON THE FLOOR!" one of them screamed.

She could feel someone gripping her tightly, their small hands trembling in horrifying fear. She blinked, before looking down.

A young boy, probably a few years younger than Leo. A boy, with wiry, brown hair, a freckled face, and big, dark eyes that reminded her of Alexis. Scrawny, small, unable to probably even fend for himself; he was probably waiting for his mother when the men attacked.

She could hear the people around her shaking, their quiet whimpers determined not to catch the attention of the men nearby. Fearful gazes stared out at the enemy, as the men grouped them all into a single cluster, just near the countertop for the restaurant. When the men had them sat on the floor, the same people could only curl up next to each other, unable and unwilling to move. Cold sweat dripped from their foreheads, the liveliness dying down, as the men came toward them. Akiza stared at the people around her, shocked by the situation. And before long, she joined those crowds, those same, tiny hands gently leading her to the floor.

There were bodies.

And there were the men.

As she gazed on them, their cold, callous eyes staring back at the crowds, she saw nothing reflected in their pupils, no color, no grey, nothing but black. Pale skins contrasted sharply to their black uniforms, the bruises beneath their eyes so incredibly similar to their dead eyes. They all glowered at the hostages, their arrogance taking form of a nightmarish sneer, which danced upon their lips. Rifles were strapped their backs, ready for anyone and anything, enthusiastically twitching, just waiting for the chance to blow someone away. Bald, with bright blue veins protruding from their skin, they were all so very unstable, those men. Akiza couldn't even look at them without shuddering.

But what caught her eye was the chokers on their necks. Made up of what appeared to be thin vines, the choker wrapped delicately around their throats, adorning them so sophisticatedly she couldn't believe she was looking at the same people. The chokers were all tied up neatly into one, single red rose, which was sitting toward the side of their necks. She stared at them for a while, then remembered the young boy, who was trembling at her side.

Then, the very same man who'd talked to her just minutes before, sauntered toward the front of the crowd. The same man, with that crimson rose straddled to his throat, who was covered in only black, stood in front of them, like it was nothing.

Automatically, Akiza looked down, and bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't bring her duel disk, and she didn't trust herself with her powers yet. From what she could see, all the men here had guns; whatever she did, they'd do it twice as fast. Who knows how many people have already died just from one simple mistake?

And yet, the man still came up, and smiled a casual smile at everyone.

He allowed the panicked crowds to quiet, his menacing aura slowly drifting from one corner of the area to the next. As soon as the last of the stragglers came, he breathed in a deep, melodic breath, and placed his arms behind his back. "Good afternoon," he said politely.

No one answered.

"Before I say anything more, I wouldn't recommend trying to escape. We've the whole building surrounded, and my little friends are keeping the police at bay. So you could say we're all at a standstill." He cast a brief gaze to the victims lying on the ground, then flickered his eyes toward the crowds, taking in their horrified expressions. After a few moments of quiet, he continued on. "I'm sure you're all wondering the same thing. But rest assured, everything will be fine; cooperate with us, then we'll let you go."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Now that that's out of the way, allow me to introduce myself," he said demurely, as he bowed to the crowd. "I am Jean Beaumont, knight to the Black Rose Coven, and a candidate to the title itself."

Coven.

Akiza just stared at him then. She could hear the whispers erupt from the people around her, their confusion marred by Akiza's familiarity. She looked down at her arm for a split moment, before fixing her attention on Jean. Any moment now; any moment her arm would glow. She knew for a fact that the power of the Crimson Dragon will help her out of this. "What're you talking about?" she demanded.

It was perhaps the first time the man really looked at her. He regarded her for a single, split second, before chuckling, and turning back to the crowds. "And in case you're all wondering, the young lady sitting here has nothing to do with us."

He looked out into the terrified hostages, as he took one step closer, his footsteps rebounding against the silence. "As to why we're here…well, that, for a simple fact, is obvious."

Blank gazes stared back at him.

"Come now; I know you're hiding him."

"What the hell?"

Jean flickered his eyes back to Akiza, who was now standing defiantly against the pressure. She could feel everyone's eyes boring her back, some in awe, others in shock. But nonetheless, they were all staring at her, watching, waiting. She took a deep breath, and regarded Jean evenly. "You killed nearly half the people here, all just for one person-"

He cocked his head. "And what of it?"

She clenched her fists. She stole a quick look at the mark on her arm, before turning back. A bit more. Just a bit more time. "You're really okay with terrorizing all these people?!" Akiza continued.

"It doesn't have to be," Jean explained then. "As soon as we have this person, we'll be out of your hair in no time." He turned his gaze toward the bodies, and chuckled lightly. "We'll even help you with the cleanup."

It should be burning by now, that mark.

"Perhaps we should even start now; give me a trash bag, a few mops…"

There should be power, confidence.

"Girlie?"

That's what she felt, back when she fought the Dark Signers.

Akiza gritted her teeth. "You're disgusting."

Only quiet diffused throughout the air, but even then that didn't last long. "Let me make this perfectly clear," Jean stated, his icy tone resounding from the mall. "I am a very busy man. I don't have time to deal with little girlies who can't keep their mouths shut."

Then, from the corner of her eyes, she saw the guns aimed directly toward her.

"Now, I'll ask again. Where is he?"

Again, only silence.

Then, a shot.

When Akiza looked down, she found the very same child, who was clinging onto her so desperately, now dead at her feet.

"Where. Is. He?"

Nothing.

Jean sighed, as he closed his eyes. Moments later, he reopened them again, this time, with a playful smirk on his face. "Come out, come out, Black Rose."

Just then, someone walked toward Jean, a man, who looked so very similar to him. He whispered something in the madman's ear. In the very same second, Jean nodded, before turning to Akiza, and asking that she come with him.

That old, grey building was surrounded by swarms of cars. Reporters from every station came, some reporting on the incidence with the utmost caution, others interrogating the police, trying to get someone, anyone to say something. Worried onlookers stared ahead, praying for their loved ones safety, all the while trying to keep from storming in. Security guards kept searching the exterior, trying to find a way in without being shot to death. Bright flashes from cameras gradually died out, as the seconds dragged on, the entertainment value overshadowed by concern. They were all holding their breaths, waiting to see what would happen next.

Yusei came to a screeching halt, narrowly dodging the plethora of cars situated towards the front. He thrust off his helmet, and jumped off, as he scanned the crowds, looking for Mina, or Trudge, or anyone else who might know anything. He saw Crow gripping the yellow police tape tightly, trying to keep himself from racing in and searching the mall. He saw Jack screaming at one of the officers, demanding that they let him pass. He saw Leo and Luna in silence, trying to look as brave as possible. He bit his lip, before rushing toward the police tape, unsure of whether or not he should join them.

Aki was in there.

And he couldn't do anything.

His phone rang then.

Yusei jolted, before shifting his gaze downward. Hurriedly, he took it out of his pocket, and stared at the caller ID.

Akiza.

Without thinking, he turned away from the crowds, pressed the phone against his ear, and waited. The words were stuck in his throat; his thoughts raced passed him, without the slightest clue of what was going on. Though he kept up his calm demeanor, in the end he could only stay silent.

"Yusei?"

He fought down a sigh of relief. "Aki," he murmured. Then he snapped back to attention, the seriousness of the problem barring down at him. "What's happening? Where are you?"

"Inside," she said slowly. "I…I'm inside the mall. They're letting me call someone."

"Just…just stay there. Do you have your deck with you? Can you do anything?"

"No. They're holding everyone at gunpoint right now. They're…they're looking for someone, and they think he's here, with us."

"…Are they desperate?"

"Yeah."

Someone touched his shoulder.

Yusei turned back, only to find Trudge standing there, along with the others, staring worriedly at him. "Yusei," Trudge began.

"Akiza says they're holding everyone at gunpoint," he muttered breathlessly.

The man's eyes widened. Soon, the group came around Yusei, as they tried listening into Akiza's words.

Still, somehow, Trudge regained his demeanor, and after a few seconds later, he asked that they come with him.

And while they all asked the officer if Akiza was okay, if anything bad was happening inside the mall, Yusei never said anything.