Anya tried to forget the girl next door ever existed: She moved to a new apartment in spite of not being at all implicated in the incident, and did everything she could to try and forget her. Her blank face staring up at her from where her father had thrown her from the window of her apartment still was fresh in her mind.

It was all her fault. If she hadn't drove the girl away by questioning the government… she likely would have been alive now. The thought made her feel nauseous.

The streets of Berlint had gone dark. Most people tended to get off the streets long before the sun set, but Anya was still walking along the sidewalk as the streetlights slowly clicked on, one after another. She barely registered it. She wasn't intimidated by the darkness.

"Heeeeey." She did not stop as the drunken soldier waved over.

"Pretty lady… want some bread?"

She ignored him, turning her head to the side. His disgusting thoughts on what he wanted to do to her filled her mind, and she had to stop herself from visibly gagging.

"I'm talking to you!"

He lunged for her, his fingers outstretched. Anya whirled around, her arm shooting forward like a bullet.

"Agh!"

She had always been a fighter: the punch connected squarely on the man's nose. He staggered backward, clutching his bleeding face as Amya turned back around.

"You… under arrest!"

The man fumbled at his waist and procured a giant weapon. In her mind's eye she could see herself, through the man's eyes, as she walked away from him. He shakily steadied his arm, and pulled the arm.

Instantly she whirled, the bullet flying harmlessly past her as she drew her own gun. The man barely had time to react when she blew his head off.

Instantly, they was panic: the soldiers who had been drinking after hours in the bar he had come far had gotten to their feet, and in a hurried frenzy made their way towards her. Anya had no choice: She turned and fled. She raced down the street, her head bent, desperately trying to think of an escape plan-

"Here!"

She turned, and without thinking about it leapt through the open window. It slammed shut behind her as she rolled, the gun held firmly in her grip.

"Don't move." The man ordered, as he crossed the room and checked the door. "Did anyone see you?"

"I don't think so."

"If anyone asks you're my wife."

Anya felt a intense wave of anger wash through her, which she tried her best to suppress. She couldn't let her past dictate her current circumstances. "Who are you?" She asked, although she already knew.

"I'm a dentist. Or at least, I was."

He was actually a spy from the west. This was nothing more than his cover.

"Fine." She said. "I pawned off my ring to pay for groceries and you're mad at me about it."

"You're a natural at this." He told her, as he finished checking the lock and turned to face her, his face stoic. "What's your story?"

"The same as yours, I imagine." Anya said dryly. "The war has been hard on us all."

"Yes." He repeated. "On us all."

"Ostania needs to be destroyed."

He was younger than Twilight had been when she had first met him. He was blonde, more muscular, and would likely have been handsome had it not been for the wear and tear of the world. But this was a man trained by Westalis in an age of total war… he hated Ostania with a passion that her Father never came close to matching.

"I hope you're not expecting me to perform my wifely duties for you." Anya said snidely. "I'm not a whore."

"I don't want anything from you." The man said patiently. "I'm only here to help."

"She has to know something about the military and their patrols… one doesn't strike out unless they assume they can get away with it."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Well aren't you a gentleman." She said "But I'm not going to sleep with you."

He sat down, leaning against the wall as the sounds of the approaching soldiers marched outside. She could barely make out his form in the night. He did not attempt to approach her. She knew his thinking: He was trying to make her feel at ease by keeping his distance.

"I'm not interested in that." He said. "We're both Ostanian… why shouldn't we help each other?"

He was reading her for a reaction.

"Because help doesn't come free." Anya said. "What do you want from me? Really."

He looked at her, considering his next move carefully.

"You killed that man." He said. "Why?"

"I just told you, didn't I? He wanted something that I wasn't willing to give."

"No, there's more to it than that." He said. "I was watching you… you moved like a gunfighter. You were like… a female Bondman."

She couldn't believe it. A strange noise erupted from her throat, and she realized that she had let out a small laugh.

"A female Bondman." She repeated. "Wouldn't I be Bondgirl or BondWoman then?"

"His daughter, maybe. You would be carrying on the family legacy."

She stopped laughing. Again she found herself feeling a little off, and angry. All of this double talk and spy stuff was making her think of Twilight… and nothing made her angrier. But somehow she felt a strange elation… someone other than her remembered Bondman.

"Maybe I am his daughter." She said, keeping her voice mysterious. "He had to have at least one."

"One? With all of those women he was with?"

"They never showed any of them."

"But it had to have happened, right?" He considered her. "Who would be your Mother, then? Princess Honey?"

"No, they showed her too much." Anya said. "We would know if she had kids."

"Who would your mom have been, then?"

Her thoughts immediately turned to a specific character. A woman with a black dress, who only appeared in two episodes. She only ever fought Bondman, but in her mind they lived happily together with their daughter in between episodes.

"Maybe I was adopted." She suggested.

She was feeling a lot more relaxed now. She had always wondered how Twilight was so easily able to evade every social situation with ease, and charm any woman he came across. It was embarrassing, she thought wryly, how she was now falling for the same tricks.

"No, you're too much like him, remember?"

"Hm." She closed her eyes, her thoughts focused on his. He knew that he had succeeded in getting her to drop her guard, but he wished her no ill will. He would simply get whatever information he could glean from her and leave. She wondered if she should try and go with him.

"Have you ever killed a soldier from Ostania before?" He asked her. He was watching her very carefully. She knew that he was expecting a lie, so she told the truth.

"Yes." She said. "You have to, if they come after you." She shifted about uncomfortably on the floor.

"So you're a criminal."

"I'm just trying to survive."

She opened one eye and looked at him. "You must have done something just as terrible."

"No." The man answered. "Everything I do is justified."

Anya opened both eyes. She sat up and looked at him. She frowned, as she read his thoughts.

"Why are you so interested in the military?" She asked. "If you've lived here for any length of time you would know all about them."

"Oh, I'm from the country. I came here to escape the fighting."

"You had no reason for doing so?"

"No. None."

He was reaching for the gun holstered in his jacket. Anya realized in horror that she had triggered his suspicions, and that he wouldn't think twice about killing her. She wondered if she should let him do it.

"I wish I could leave this city." Anya said, her voice bitter. "I can't imagine someone wanting to live here."

He lowered his hand.

"Things are bad everywhere you go." He said. "And it's all because of the war."

Anya closed her eyes again, nodding along amicably.

"I wish it would end." Anya said, her voice quiet.

"There is a way."

Anya opened one way back open to look at him. He was staring at her, hunched over in the darkness.

"Have you ever heard of the Atomic bomb?"

Anya pretended as if she had not. She had learned all about it by reading his mind.

"The Ostanian government developed this weapon to deal a crippling blow to the west." The man said. "It was never used because it was thought to be too dangerous… they use radioactive materials, you see, and can poison the environment. It is thought that enough of them could destroy the world."

"The world is already destroyed." Anya said dismissively.

The man leaned forward.

"But if one were to set off the weapon in a populated city… one that houses the majority of politicians pushing for the war… that could conclusively end it all."

Anya kept her eyes firmly closed.

"You want to use this weapon on Westalis?"

"No." The spy from the west said. "I want to use it on Berlint."

Anya did not move.

"Imagine it." The man whispered. "Every soldier, every politician. Every corrupt businessman. Gone. In a mushroom cloud. It would put an end to the war in an instant. The East would be forced to surrender."

"It would kill millions of people."

"That." The man said. "Is a risk I am willing to take."

They drew their weapons and pointed them at each other.

"Who are you?" The man demanded. "You're no civilian. I knew it the moment I lay eyes on you. I thought you might be one of ours, but-"

"I'm just a girl trying to survive." Anya said. "But you're a Spy from the West. And one that intends to harm innocent people. I can't allow that."

"You hate the Ostanians as much as I do." The man breathed. "You have to help me. Whatever resources you can provide, I'll take them. I can end this war in a matter of weeks, if I can simply find the bombs!"

"This isn't an operation planned out by the west." Anya said. "You came up with this on your own."

"Why would I not?" The man spat. "The Ostanians keep dragging us back into this war that none of us want anything to do with! This war needs to end, one way or another."

"Do you think destroying Berlint will end this conflict?" Anya demanded. "The Elite will simply leave the city, leaving the masses to suffer!"

"You're nothing but a street urchin." The man sneered. "You have love for this city and its people when they have done nothing for you! Think, girl! What have they ever done for you?"

She closed her eyes. It had not even been a couple of days since she had last seen Becky Blackwell. She had been so kind, so considerate, so worried about her…

And this man wanted to destroy the city both of them loved.

Anya had been in fights before. But this was different. She could feel a boiling, passionate rage building up within her.

"You want to end this war." She asked, her voice ice cold. "But I'll be the reason you never get to see it."

The man fired. She casually adjusted her head so the bullet went flying past it and fired as well. The man staggered, blood flying out of his head, as he slumped by the window, his head bent. She found herself wondering how she had ever thought him attractive.

She had been angry too long. She had taken out her anger and frustrations at the state of the world and her personal life on other people who had only wanted the best for her. And now… seeing how deeply the hatred and contempt both sides of the war had for each other, she was beginning to understand that if things kept going the way they were the things and people she still loved would cease to exist.

"Hear me, Donovon Desmond." She murmured. "There will be peace."

She raised her head upward and screamed.

"DO YOU HEAR ME!"

There was no answer, but she didn't need one. She had always been alone, after all. With a new determination, she left the room, leaving the dead man's body in her wake.

His would not be the first.