HOLY HELL this series has finally passed the 200k mark! that is truly insane! WHAT?!

I've never written anything like this before so I NEVER knew it would get to this point, so I just want to say a huge THANK YOU to all of you for reading this story, and giving me your support, encouragement, and even critique, I have to say its been an amazing journey!

Thank you all! I wish I could say I had something special planned for this, but alas, its more angst! Enjoy xx

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Anya had always slept like an animal. She startled awake easily, but would have no memory of it in the morning, and she shifted positions at least a dozen times a night, but in the unexpected safety of Damian's dorm room, her body was somehow able to settle. She wormed her way into Damian's embrace, and unconsciously kept her face close to his, just like she did when they had fallen asleep together. But while her physical body relaxed, her mind was in an entirely different state, restless and agitated from the events of the day, and Anya dreamed that she was back outside WISE headquarters, back to the moment where she failed the test.

It smelled like rain. Heavy storm clouds gathered in the air.

Twilight placed his hand on her shoulder as he escorted her out, possibly to stop her from running away, but the moment they stepped outside, Anya shook him off. She didn't want anything to do with him. She didn't want to see him ever again.

Twilight had never seen her like this, and he was almost afraid to speak, and draw her ire, but he was also her father, and if his experience as a parent taught him anything, it was that it was important to talk things out in times of crisis.

"Anya, I know you're upset…"

"Upset doesn't begin to cover it," Anya seethed, and while Twilight thought that she was paralysed with rage, she spun on her heels, and threw the first punch, aimed directly at his face.

It took him by surprise, but Twilight's reflexes were carefully honed by years in the field, and he scraped his foot back, stabilising his weight, before he caught her screaming fist in his palm.

As her fist collided with his palm, a shock of air burst like a thunderclap and wind swirled around them.

If she were only a few years younger, it would have been easy, but the years under Yor's watch meant that Anya packed a real punch. Her lean frame hid carefully-toned muscles, and Twilight gritted his teeth as went for him again, this time swinging her other leg towards his abdomen in a ruthless kick.

Again, he blocked her, but only barely, and the sudden blow nearly knocked him off his feet.

"It's not fair!" she raged at him. "Damian deserves to know! He's going to find out soon anyway! All of this is so - so…"

Twilight easily caught the next punch, but only because her despair slowed her down, and this time Anya didn't bother to put strength back into her limbs and fight him like she wanted to. Tears openly streamed down her face, and she glared at Twilight, her broken heart on her sleeve for all to see.

"I have to tell him, it's not right! None of this is okay! You can't expect me to just sit there and pretend it's all fine!"

"Anya-"

"Did I tell you he's my boyfriend now?" she cried, while Twilight's fingers still encircled her wrists, holding her up, and her shoulders shook with tears. "Am I supposed to keep lying to him about his father? I can't do that to him! I can't keep doing this!"

Twilight watched while his daughter cried, and somehow, she had lost enough energy that she didn't resist when he pulled her closer into a hug. He dropped his head closer to hers, keeping her close, and it took a long while for Anya to notice that Twilight held her so much more tightly than normal, and his own face was contorted into a mask of shame.

"This is what's necessary, Anya. Believe me, I know it's hard. I know. I've done this a thousand times and it never, ever gets easier, but we don't have a choice."

Was it her imagination, or did he sound like he was holding back his own tears?

Anya sniffed a little more as she took it in, and left it a long moment before she spoke. "You're not mad that he's my boyfriend?"

At that, Twilight jolted, and he sounded genuinely surprised. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because I hid it from you," Anya mumbled into his chest.

Twilight allowed himself to breathe easy for a moment, and gently patted her head. "We already knew. We were just waiting for you to tell us."

"Oh."

"We just want you to be happy," said Twilight, and he meant it, but the immediate tightening of his chest told him that it was the wrong thing to say.

"Happy? Like this?" Anya sniffed and rubbed her eyes, unable to look at him. "He's good, Papa, I swear! We can trust him, we can tell him everything, and then we don't… I don't have to lie to him anymore. It's horrible. I feel like the worst person in the world."

Twilight empathised, but he shook his head firmly. Though she couldn't completely see him since he held her close, she could feel the movement through his limbs. "It's not about trust, Anya. I have no doubt that he's good, as you say. He's done so much already for you, after all - but this is bigger than just you two. It's about the fate of the world. You have to know that."

Anya's refusal to say a single word spoke volumes to him, and he felt his heart wrench in his chest.

"I know it's hard," Twilight continued, "but we can't say for sure what would happen if we told him. It could jeopardise everything we've worked for. Do you understand that?"

Again, Anya said nothing, but despite that, both felt an unspoken understanding that Anya was taking it all in, and slowly consolidating everything that they talked about.

"How did you do it?" she rasped, clearly on the edge of another bout of tears. "How did you keep it all a secret?"

He stroked her hair in a soothing motion. "How did you hide your telepathy all this time?"

"I…" Anya croaked. "I just wanted to stay… as a family."

"I was the same." Twilight's features softened on her, in understanding, but also in reminiscent pain. "I kept reminding myself… why I do all this," he sighed, and for the first time, Anya saw the exhaustion in Twilight's eyes, betraying how much he had aged since he adopted her.

One mission. Twelve years.

Anya blinked, and suddenly Twilight looked older. Strands of silver hairs shimmered against the blond, and the lines in his face had deepened, although not significantly. Even the blue of his eyes had paled somewhat, haunted by all the things he had seen over decades.

"There were times when I wanted to tell you both, or at least Yor, and tell her why I come home late every night, why I sometimes have to leave suddenly, why I have to leave you with her, why you sometimes don't hear from me for days, why I come home bruised or beaten, but I had to remember that I have a role to play in protecting this country, and keeping it a secret was my way of trying to protect you - both of you."

Anya understood, but she had nothing left to say. Her heart had bled completely dry, and in that moment, she couldn't fight any more. It was too painful. Better to numb herself to it. She couldn't fight him, couldn't forgive him, couldn't bring herself to hate him, couldn't do anything. She was utterly powerless to stop the fractures in her soul, slowly consuming her, slowly breaking her apart.

—

Anya's eyes opened slowly. After blinking away the bleariness, she was surprised to see that Damian was already awake, and looking at her with a soft smile, his forehead almost as close to hers as it was when they both fell asleep.

"Morning," she yawned.

"Good morning," he whispered back, and gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, and Anya hummed with delight.

"Did you… sleep okay?" said Damian warily.

Anya's brow furrowed as she remembered her dream from the night before. The memory of what happened with her father. "I guess. I just dreamed of the fight I had with my papa," she sighed, trying to push the memory down. "What about you?"

"I dreamed about you," he said without hesitation.

Anya perked up instantly. "Oh?"

And then Damian smirked at her. "I won't tell you why though," he chuckled and he gently flicked her forehead.

"No fair," Anya giggled, and then mumbled into her pillow: "I wish we didn't have to go to school and we could stay in bed all day."

"Me too."

Something flared in Anya's consciousness, and she sat bolt upright in the bed. "Oh no! We're at school!" She whirled to Damian with panic in her eyes. "What am I going to do?!"

"Relax," said Damian, and pulled her back into bed with him, and Anya crashed back onto the mattress with a loud fwump. "Becky's going to bring you her spare uniform," he twirled the lock of hair in front of her eyes, and it sprang back, wild and untamed, "and a hairbrush."

"You texted Becky?!"

"Yeah," said Damian nonplussed, like it was obvious. "What was I supposed to do? Call your parents? Tell them you stayed overnight in my bed?"

"Hm, yeah, fair enough," Anya nodded. "What did she say?"

Damian stretched his arm behind him to locate his phone, still charging on his bedside table, and he took a moment to carefully uncouple it from the cable for he handed it over to Anya so that she could see the exchange.

Hey. Can you bring a spare uniform to school today, and a hairbrush.

Why? Xxx

Anya crashed here. Don't tell anyone.

OMG! Did you guys finally get down to business?! Xxx

I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you bringing it or not?

Ugh FINE! I'll bring it! But you'd better explain yourselves tomorrow! CIAO xxx

"That's so Becky," Anya chuckled, and tried to keep the laughter in, "she always gets so excited," and then she gave Damian a sideways grin. "You could have denied it, you know. Now you've probably added fuel to the fire."

Damian shrugged, but a cheeky grin played on his face, too. "I know, but I couldn't help it, it was too funny."

"It was," Anya agreed. "I'll tell her the truth later though."

She said it quickly, before another dark feeling could cross her heart, and make it obvious that she was telling yet another lie. She could tell Becky some of the truth, that was for sure, the same amount that she told Damian, but Anya was slowly facing the reality that she would forever have to lie to everyone in her life, especially to her closest friends. Anya swallowed, and tried to push the pain down once again.

She had already been lying to them all for years, about her adoption, her real age, her telepathy and past as a human test subject. What were a few more lies, compared to all of that?

(Maybe if she could convince herself it was okay, then it wouldn't have to feel so painful.)

She cast a curious glance across the room, and a deep orange light streamed in from behind the curtains, bathing everything in an amber glow.

"I still have some time before breakfast, if that's what you're wondering," Damian smiled at her, and the rays from the sunrise tinged his hair a wonderful deep auburn colour. "Enough to have a bit of time to ourselves."

Her heart faltered in her chest as she remembered a piece of Eden lore. "Doesn't the matron barge into people's rooms to wake them up?"

Damian shook his head, and his hair rustled the pillow. "She does that to the juniors, but the seniors are expected to be more responsible," he leaned down and kissed her, and smiled against her skin, "and that works in our favour."

Anya bit her lip, trying to hide her widening smile. "You're being really cute today."

"Can you blame me?" He pushed a lock of her hair away from her eyes, and let his hand glide down her lovely hair until he rested it on her back. "I get to wake up to my amazing girlfriend."

"Awww!" Anya squealed, and wiggled closer to him, and put her arms around his side in return. "I just want to stay here with you forever."

"Me too," Damian sighed, and pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her strawberry scent.

"Are you smelling me?!" she gave an exaggerated gasp.

"Mm-hmm," Damian didn't even bother to hide it.

"Damian!"

"What? You smell nice," he said honestly, and then tucked his chin over her head, and closed his eyes. "You can't take this moment away from me."

She really wished that she could stay like that with him forever, but alas, Eden College had its strict rules (even if they definitely broke an entire book of them already), and all too soon Damian had forced himself to part from her warmth, and get dressed for the day.

"Everyone's going down to the breakfast hall just now, so it might be an ideal time for you to sneak out. Becky said she will meet you in the girls' locker rooms to give you her uniform," and then he gave her a look. "Please don't encourage her crazy theories."

"You're one to talk," she chuckled. "You didn't even deny it when she texted you!"

Damian pretended not to hear her. Instead, he leaned down to where she sat on the bed, and pulled her in for another kiss.

"Anya, thank you for coming to see me. I loved it. It was amazing. I'd spend every night with you if I could," he inhaled a deep breath. "Do not do this again."

"I won't, sorry," she giggled.

It was a relief to see her laugh, but that only reminded Damian of everything from the night before, and his smile slipped.

"Are you feeling better, at least?"

"Ah, yeah," Anya blushed. She had half-forgotten about how she had tumbled through his window in tears. "Thank you for, um, everything."

He gave her a key. "Use this to lock the doors when you leave, don't get caught, I'll see you soon," he kissed her again for good measure, this time lingering more than he needed to, but neither had any complaints about it. "I'll save you some breakfast, okay?"

"Wait." She caught his arm as he started to move away. "You'll come to dinner this Friday, right?"

"I said I would, didn't I? I'm looking forward to it," he said honestly, before he left.

Once Damian left for breakfast, Anya locked the door behind him. She couldn't have anyone barge in on her while he was away. Anya took her time trying to go through her hair once again using Damian's comb, but it lacked the muscle of those extra bristles, so she pottered around, and did some stretches while she waited for the space outside to empty out a bit more. She sensed that there were still too many people outside for her to sneak out properly, but in the meantime, she was in Damian's room.

She cast a cursory look around, curious to see what she could look at. She didn't see anything that looked like photos of his family, but there were plenty of framed pictures of Damian and his friends, and even a few of them as a five together, which made her smile. Even though he and Becky seemed to have some sort of bickering rivalry, it was obvious that he still counted her among his list of friends.

The corner of a loose photograph stuck out from behind one of the frames, and Anya pinched it gently, and pulled it out. When she saw what it was, her breath caught in her chest.

It was her. Well, the photo was supposed to be her and Becky, smiling for the camera at one of the school fairs, although Becky's arm around Anya's shoulder were still visible, but Damian had apparently only kept the half of the photo with Anya in it. Anya liked the way that she looked in the photo, laughing like she didn't have a care in the world, but even more than that, she liked the shy boy in the background with a blush on his face, pretending not to look at her.

Lost in thought, Anya almost didn't notice when the photo slipped from her fingers, and fell to the floor. It floated under the bed, and Anya grunted as she got down on all fours, and reached out for it, but in the darkness her fingers landed on something thicker, smoother, and she slowly pulled it out.

She blew the dust off the thick manila folder, distantly noting that it had probably been down there for at least a few months. Anya carefully flicked it open, and her eyes were instantly drawn to the name at the top of the file printed in black ink.

Adrian Kuning. A small photo, attached by a paperclip, featured a boy with long blond hair and blue eyes.

Her heart beat like a drum, pulsing toxic waves throughout her body, and she gripped the file hard. The last time she saw that face, he had lured her into a trap, and got her sent back to the lab. She almost didn't care how much he had helped Damian and her mother in getting her back, if she ever saw his face again, she didn't know if she would be able to hold back from punching him.

Anya forced herself to relax her grip, and used a few deep breaths to calm her raging heart. There was no point getting angry. Adrian was gone, and she would never see him again.

It was strange that Damian had this document after all this time. Why did he keep it? Did he just forget about it?

She scanned it out of curiosity, wondering if there was anything important about it, but there were more than a few pages to look through. It was strange that he had been to so many schools in such a short space of time, that he had barely any grades to go on, and his personal information was unusually sparse, but Anya just knew that if it was her father looking through the document, he would have already found something important, because he was the best Westalian spy on this side of the border…

Anya turned another page, scanning down what appeared to be financial information, until her eyes snagged a certain name and she froze in recognition of it.

We know that he is linked to certain companies, all under the umbrella of a company that he controls…

A vision of Twilight pushing a list of names towards her.

She blinked hard, feeling the tears stinging at her eyes once again.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

She should hand it in to Sylvia.

She could burn it. Pretend she never saw it.

She was going to be sick.

If she didn't want to use Damian in the mission, if she didn't want to hide secrets from him anymore, she had to make sure she kept him as far away from all of it as possible…

… but how could she keep it far away if she found the evidence in his room?

If she handed it in to Sylvia, did that mean that she was still using Damian for the mission?

Did that mean that he could never truly be separate from Operation Strix?

Anya clutched the file to her aching chest, where her heart had split in two, and she wondered if she would ever escape from this torture.

Ewen eyed Damian warily as they made their way down to breakfast. "Hey bossman, you doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Damian snapped, before he took a purposeful breath and dragged his hand over his face. "Sorry. I'm just… I've got a lot on my mind right now."

"Is it Forger?" said Emile innocently.

"What? No!" Damian almost flung himself physically away from his two friends, and only when he saw the deadpan looks on their faces did he let his shoulders relax. "Is it that obvious?"

They nodded in unison, and Damian sighed to himself. Somehow, it was always Anya that got under his skin. Damian didn't realise that he had let his guard slip. He had to be more careful.

He had woken partway through the night, after a very strange dream, when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and Anya had been shivering and whimpering quietly. It didn't take him long to guess that she had been having a nightmare, and a word slipped out of her that had goosebumps flaring across his skin. "Damian…"

It came back to him then. He rarely dreamed as it was, but this was unlike a dream he had ever experienced before. It felt like a memory - but it didn't belong to him. He didn't recall ever having an argument with Dr Forger. Or trying to punch him.

It felt like he had intruded on something private, and the more Damian thought about it, the more it dawned on him that he had just seen something that he wasn't meant to. As with a normal dream, some details faded from his memory immediately upon waking, but bits and pieces remained, along with a dark feeling that clung to him like smoke, and two clear facts:

One: Anya knew something about Damian's father, but for whatever reason, she was unable to tell him anything.

Two: If he wanted to avoid a repeat of her panic attack from the night before, then he couldn't ask her about it.

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Damian…

He didn't know what any of it meant, but if it caused Anya to become that upset, then he didn't want to make it worse for her, so asking her directly was a no-go: he already saw how distressed she became when he tried to pry, however gently, and Damian had a feeling that if he tried to ask about her father again, he might make things astronomically worse. And if he couldn't ask her, and she couldn't tell him anything…

He would just have to figure it out himself.

So, he pretended, just long enough that he could cover up the questions in his head. He took time to think about other things, better things, before she could wake up, and he could focus on being next to her, because he wanted to treasure as much time with her as he could - and because he couldn't explain how, but he had the horrible feeling that there was a ticking clock somewhere, and he was running out of time.

Anya spent all day wondering what to do.

She felt the file burning a hole in her school bag. She put on a smile, hoping that Becky or Damian wouldn't notice the way she held it too tightly, or the way she kept glancing down at it, as if it were a ticking bomb that was about to go off at any second.

It was poisoning her, and if her mother had taught her anything, it was that you have to expel poisons as soon as possible.

So it was torture when she found herself back at WISE headquarters, sitting across from the Handler.

Anya had tried to act normal throughout the day, but at lunchtime, she saw Dusk at the edge of the school gates, reading a newspaper, and when Anya got closer, he left the paper on a nearby bench.

It was a move she had seen played out a thousand times, and she didn't hesitate to pick up the paper that he had left behind, turning to the marked page. It didn't take long for her to unravel the cipher left before her, and the message sparked fear in her blood.

Debrief at HQ 5pm.

She had hoped she wouldn't have to face the Handler again so soon, not after her embarrassing performance the day before. Her hands shook as she clenched them on her knees, and she had to wipe the sweat off her palms a few times.

Would it be possible for her to keep the file after all? To feel like she hadn't just used Damian to get information on his father?

She didn't have many other options, but if she could plead her case to the Handler, maybe it wouldn't end so badly. Maybe she could keep her family together without feeling like she had to sacrifice a part of herself. Maybe she could leave with everything intact.

Aya's voice shook as she broke the silence.

"I know that I… failed. I understand why but, please, don't take him away from me…"

Was she talking about Twilight, or Damian? She wasn't sure any more.

The Handler appeared as composed as ever, but even though she wore the earbuds to block her thoughts, Anya could sense something simmering below the surface, although it was hard to tell exactly what.

Was it pain? Shame? Regret?

Sylvia cleared her throat. "Do you understand why I did what I did?"

Anya pinched her lips together and said nothing.

Sylvia took off her hat, placing it carefully on the desk in front of her, before she dragged her hand across her face, exhausted. "It isn't a test of loyalty, if that's what you're thinking. It's not about forcing you to make a choice between people, between your father and your boyfriend." She looked up at Anya, terrible exhaustion in her eyes. "I'm looking for a different kind of loyalty. Loyalty to the world, to peace. Can you put peace between countries above a singular person? Can you be trusted to carry the fate of the world, even at personal cost?"

Anya clenched the fabric of her skirt. "What's going to happen to us?" She said it in a very quiet voice, almost afraid to say it out loud. "You'll have to tell the higher-ups right?"

Handler tapped her heel on the ground. "I don't know."

A dark feeling spread in Anya's chest. "Do they know about me?"

Handler shook her head. "For now, your existence is a secret. The only ones who know about you are Twilight, Dusk, and myself."

She flicked open her lighter, aiming for the end of her cigarette, and took a deep drag.

"I had hoped that if I recruited you for WISE, then they would be lenient on Twilight when everything gets out. He got himself into a real fucking mess. I mean," Sylvia exhaled in a hollow laugh, which came out as a short puff of smoke. "He married an assassin from the Garden! He adopted a telepath, who knew that he was a spy the whole time! He's been on the same fucking mission for twelve years! His adoptive daughter is in a romantic relationship with the son of the target! You can't get messier than that!"

"Sorry, I guess," Anya mumbled, not sorry at all.

Sylvia sighed heavily. "I apologise. I'm getting ahead of myself." And despite only having lit it a moment ago, Sylvia stubbed out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "What I'm saying is, we don't have a precedent for this. The longer I keep it from the higher-ups, the worse it will be for all of us."

"So that's why you wanted to recruit me?" Anya didn't know if it made her feel better or worse.

"Don't get me wrong, you're talented, and your power serves you well."

It seemed that Sylvia wasn't finished fidgeting. She flicked her lighter on and off, open and closed, and Anya watched as the flame danced in her black eyes.

"But I had hoped it would, shall we say, sweeten the deal?" Sylvia laughed again, but there was no feeling behind it. Like she just didn't have the energy anymore. "But maybe I was getting ahead of myself, since I can't exactly bring you into the field unless I can trust you to do what's necessary. I thought that if Twilight's adoptive telepathic daughter was a spy for WISE, maybe there would be a way for this not to end badly. Maybe it would…"

She groaned, and in that one moment, Anya realised that it wasn't just Twilight that was getting older. Getting tired of it all. The same weight of the world pushed down on Sylvia's shoulders, and though she had never cracked under the pressure, she was only human, too.

"Tell me something," Sylvia adjusted her glasses as she appraised Anya, sitting before her. "If you thought you failed, why did you come back?"

This was it. This was the moment Anya had been waiting for.

Could she put aside her personal feelings for the mission?

She had battled with herself on whether or not to bring it, but she had chosen her path when she chose not to reveal everything to Damian. Now it was time to prove her commitment - if only to get it over and done with, so that the mission could be over as fast as possible.

The two broken halves of her heart hardened in resolve, and Anya made a decision. She slid the file across the desk, and Sylvia flicked her gaze up sharply.

She flipped it open. "What's this?"

"I thought… it might be important," Anya sighed.

Sylvia cast a quick, calculating glance over the contents, and immediately raised her eyebrows at Anya. "How did you get this?"

"It was in… Damian's room…" Anya mumbled, and a blush sprinkled across her cheeks. She didn't exactly want the Handler to know everything she got up to with Damian, and she especially didn't want any chance of Loid finding out -

Sylvia's voice pulled her back into the room. "Do you know where Adrian is? If we could get him to testify…"

"I don't know," Anya snapped. "I'm sorry." She added the apology as a courtesy, but it was already obvious that she felt some residual hatred for him.

Sylvia flopped the file back down on the desk, and folded her arms across her chest. "Why did you bring me this if you failed the test?"

Anya closed her eyes, as if trying to shield herself from the facts in front of her.

Why indeed?

It certainly crossed her mind that she could burn it and pretend it didn't exist. That she could ignore Sylvia's summons, and try to carry on as before, but Twilight's words to her were becoming increasingly clear.

We don't have a choice.

It would be better if Operation Strix was over as soon as possible.

Anya opened her eyes. "It's… what must be done," she said mechanically, her voice flat and unfeeling.

Sylvia sat in silence for a moment, before she stood slowly from her chair, and leaned over with an arm extended, and Anya didn't know what else to do but to shake her hand.

"I look forward to working with you."

Anya's blood ran cold, and her hand froze in place. "What?"

"Congratulations, Starlight," said Sylvia, her voice clear and even. "You passed."

Anya's heart pounded in her chest, reverberating in her ears, and her stomach fell through her like lead. Her legs became so heavy that even dropping Sylvia's handshake and taking a step back felt like wading through molten glass.

Her chest hurt. Something pressed down on it hard, and it made her breath come out as a wheeze.

Anya expected to feel good. She thought it would feel good. It was supposed to be good, right? If she passed, that meant that her family could stay together, that she wasn't in any trouble, that she could work alongside Twilight, and help him with the mission. It meant her life didn't have to change.

It was supposed to feel good.

Why didn't it feel good?

"Welcome to WISE," said Sylvia, final as a gavel, sentencing her to life.

She had wanted to hear those words for so long, had fantasised about it, and hearing them was supposed to bring her a sense of joy, or even achievement - but there was only a hollow ache where she knew her heart should have been.

.

.

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There was a lot to do in this chapter. Everyone's tired of everything, and we got all sorts of trust issues going on, Damian's got his own questions, and Anya's heart has taken a huge hit...

For the second time in a year I will update in TWO weeks instead of the usual one: this is because I'm going on holiday! On an island with questionable internet haha, BUT I promise the next chapter is going to be worth the wait. It's going to be the family dinner... and Yuri's going to be there 😅 It's going to be chaotic as hell and I CANNOT wait hahaha

See you on Saturday 22nd July!

Thanks in advance for your patience