16

CHAPTER 16 – DARKNESS DESCENDS

The last few glimmers of twilight shone through the bedroom's bay window, falling across the dark pink carpet. Ornate drapery and gilded picture frames lined the matching walls, obscured by the shadows. The ceiling and bedside lamps were switched off. So they'd been for the entire day, leaving Rinoa to mire beneath the sheets.

All was as she'd left it behind three years ago. From the spacious walk-in closet, to the imposing dresser beside it, to the vanity table further along the wall, every amenity had been left untouched in the hope she would return one day. No matter how she resented her father, the decision to run away hadn't been an easy one. Even after she'd joined up with the Forest Owls, the regular nostalgic pangs had proved difficult to resist. She'd gone so far as to renovate her quarters at the hideout in the image of her room, down to the same shade of paint on the walls. It gave her comfort through such a tumultuous period in her life. There was none now that she lay in the midst of the genuine article.

The previous day's fallout with Squall still weighed on her mind; she'd approached him with the best of intentions, only to have her consideration so rudely tossed back in her face. His aloof behavior defied her understanding. It sickened her to believe such was indicative of his true personality. Surely the quiet, reserved, yet cool-headed SeeD she'd met on the dance floor hadn't been a facade. How he'd gently smiled when they'd finished their waltz, having allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

She'd roamed the streets in a huff for hours, passing the rest of the afternoon at her old local hangouts. She did not return home for dinner; she'd had no interest in sharing the table with her father, nor the others for that matter. A diner along the main drag had served her needs. By the stroke of midnight, when she could be sure all would be asleep, she'd infiltrated the mansion via the usual route. From there, she'd quietly scaled the foyer steps to her room, where she'd laid in exhaustion and melancholy for most of the day.

She'd skipped breakfast. Only once she'd caught sight from her window of her father departing the house did she feel comfortable leaving her room. Buel had followed behind, carrying Squall's revolver-styled sword in one hand, and a holstered shotgun and ammunition belt slung over his shoulder. With the coast clear, she'd descended to the kitchen to fix herself something to eat. A visibly excited Angelo had tailed her in. She'd offered the dog a few slices of the deli meat she'd used for her sandwich, and retraced her steps back up with the plate in hand. Still, the dog followed after.

Just as she'd reached her room, the door to one of the guest rooms further down the hall had swung open. Irvine had stepped out, clad in his usual jacket and chaps, his black cowboy hat held by his side.

"Hey," he'd nodded to her, taking note of the sandwich. "I was thinkin' it was 'bout that time, myself. Didn't see ya at dinner last night. Lemme guess, havin' to eat with yer pops don't leave ya with much o' an appetite?"

"Yeah," she'd muttered. "Well, honestly, I think that goes for everyone right now. I don't want to make things… even more awkward."

Her blowout with Squall notwithstanding, her father's insistence on not letting her get involved would have left her the odd one out at the table no matter what.

"I gotcha there. Sittin' 'round a table with those four's plenty awkward fer me, too. Jus' between you an' me, I get the feelin' there's somethin' not right with 'em. Like, I don't know what kinda trainin' SeeDs hafta go through, but the way they're takin' this mission… well, let's jus' say it ain't the kinda attitude I'd expect. Ya think there might be somethin' they put in the water over at Balamb?"

"Maybe," she'd chuckled. "It'd make more sense why Squall takes himself so seriously all the time."

"To tell ya the truth, he's the only one I'm not feelin' too freaked out by right now. Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I'm kinda glad he's the one I'm paired up with tonight."

"Oh… so, tonight's the night? Already?"

"Yep," he'd affirmed, his intonation abruptly turning hollow. "This is it. The day I go down in history as the guy that knocked off Sorceress Edea… if someone'd told me this was what my whole life's been leadin' up to, I'd never have believed it."

"You're prepared for it though, right? You don't think you're going to miss, do you?"

"It ain't 'bout hittin' or missin'. I know I've got the skill to pull it off. It's jus'…"

He'd trailed off. His face took on a stern look Rinoa had yet to see from the sharpshooter; normally so full of swagger, his eyes instead showed a tinge of unease.

"Look, there's a lotta things I don't understand. I'm the one who's come into all this at the halfway point, an' so far, the picture's not too clear fer me. Like, what's her goal here? Why's she allied herself with the government? An' why've the top brass at Balamb taken out this contract on her? These are things I've gotta know before I can pull that trigger, an' it feels like the only person I can get the answers from is the one I've gotta shoot. If only there was some other way…"

Rinoa could sympathize to a degree. Though she may not have been a Garden operative, she recognized just how much pressure he was under. She too would need absolute clarity of mind to follow through with such a thing. Even so, she desperately needed him to make the shot. The mission's success meant more to her than simply foiling Deling's bid for world domination.

"I know it's a huge responsibility," she'd told him. "But we're all counting on you. This sorceress... I've seen what she can do. It practically made my hair stand up on end. She's pure evil, without a single doubt. I… I lost someone important to me because of her…"

She shifted her eyes from Irvine to the plate she held. Angelo rubbed at her side, begging for another nibble.

"Listen… Squall had plenty of issues with the orders I gave him, but he was still prepared to go through with them. Because it was his duty as a SeeD. I chewed him out for treating it like just another assignment. I told him how easy he must have it to just live his life blindly following orders. The way he is, I figured he didn't have it in him to take a stand for something bigger than himself. But now, I think I get it. He didn't have to be so mean about it, but… it wasn't him taking the easy way out. He was just standing on principle. Doing what he had to, even when he'd rather be doing anything else. It was all about living up to his own sense of honor. Just like…"

Just like Seifer.

Perhaps the two had been more alike than she'd thought, after all. However opposed to one another their personalities had been, they'd each held themselves to a moral standard that went beyond their own selfish concerns.

"'Standin' on principle', huh?" Irvine had quipped. He'd strode past her and Angelo with his eyes lowered to the carpet. "Sounds like my kinda guy. Guess the only thing left to find out now… is if there's a heart underneath it all."

Those parting words had lingered with Rinoa. They'd continued to echo in her ears as she'd eaten, and left the dish on the floor for Angelo. Squall's terrible attitude painted a clear picture of a callous, antisocial drone. His emotional detachment was a roadblock for anyone trying to work alongside him. Irvine had every reason to expect a difficult night ahead.

True to his concerns however, the sorceress was the ultimate obstacle in his path. Should she be allowed to unleash her powers, it would surely spell doom not only for their retinue, but the lives of countless innocents. She'd continued to deliberate, pondering how she could make herself useful. It was then she'd been hit by an ingenious revelation, coming to her via a piece of otherwise innocuous information she'd remembered from months ago.

She'd hoisted herself out of bed, and dashed out into the hall. It was specialized technology, sparsely distributed among the armed forces thus far. Regardless, surely the general himself would have at least one pair in his collection.

She'd reached the mansion's west wing, and gone straight for the grand armory. Within minutes of combing over the polished assortment of firearms, blades, and protective gear, she'd found what she was looking for. They now rested on her bedside nightstand. The sheen of their silver casing faded into darkness with the setting sun. She'd debated long and hard whether or not to propose her plan to the others.

It should work.

She raised herself out of bed, snatched the bangles, and shuffled over to the window. A huge procession of people stood amassed before the Presidential Residence in the distance, resembling the city's annual new year celebration. Drawing her gaze back, she peered down to the manor entrance. The doors swung open. Squall stepped out, absent his signature blade at his side. Irvine emerged moments later, adjusting his hat. The man in black fled across the bridge, and the gunslinger followed. The mission had commenced. Her time was running short.

Rinoa spun on her heel. She raced out into the hall, and bolted down the stairs to the main foyer. Quistis, Zell, and Selphie were gathered by the doorway, the latter fighting to stow her nunchaku in the back of her yellow one-piece.

"Hey guys!" she called to them, nearly tripping on the bottom step in her haste.

"Sorry, Rinoa," Quistis apologized. "But, we have to get going. We'll be on our way as soon as your father finishes up in his office."

"Hold on a sec! It's about tonight… I think I've got something that could really help you out. Take a look at these."

She extended the thick metal bracelets in both hands for them to see.

"I found them in his armory. They're called Odine Bangles."

"Odine?" Zell repeated, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "You mean as in Odine Industries?"

"Exactly. It's a brand new piece of equipment they've started producing for the Galbadian government. There was an article about them in one of the Anarchist Monthly issues. It's supposed to generate some kind of negative ion field around the wearer. They're designed to counteract and nullify the energy frequency of the magic you all use. Apparently, it even works both ways; they can be used either to protect the wearer from spellcraft, or restrain them from using their own."

"Damn, first I'm hearing about these things," Zell said. "But if they're Odine brand, I'm not gonna question how well they work."

"Isn't that the same company that produces GFs for Balamb?" Selphie asked in confusion. "I thought they were on our side?"

"They're not on anyone's side, officially. They're an independent contractor. With Esthar being shut off from the rest of the world though, you'd need someone on the inside to make any kind of agreement with them in the first place."

"It looks like the general wasn't lying about Galbadia having their own ties," Quistis interjected. "The administration isn't going to like this one bit."

"Lucky we didn't run into anyone with those back at Dollet," Zell agreed. "Guess it goes to show he really was trying to sabotage his own mission. But anyway, what's the deal? Unless you've got a pair for each of us, I don't see how that's gonna help much. And besides, I know I'm gonna want my GF handy if it comes down to it."

"It's... not for you," Rinoa started meekly, her eyes trained to the cuffs in her hands. "I just figured, if these can cancel out the magic you guys use… maybe it could work on the sorceress? You know, to keep her from using her power if things don't go as planned."

"And how exactly do you plan to get her to put them on?" Quistis snapped. She brazenly stepped to the front of her squad. "Who's going to give them to her? When? Have you given this even the slightest bit of thought?"

"That's what I wanted to discuss!" she fired back.

"We don't have time for this! Squall and Irvine are already en route to their position, and we have our own role to play. Just do as your father says for once and stay out of this! This isn't a game!"

"Who said it was?!" Rinoa defiantly spat; hadn't Squall accused her of the same thing in Timber? "It's not like I don't have a plan! Why do you have to be so high strung about this?! I'm just trying to help!"

"You mean like how you tried to 'help' Squall yesterday?"

Her heart caught in her throat. Quistis stared daggers at her. The reason for the apparent hostility immediately became clear; this argument had nothing to do with practicality or strategy.

"He… told you?"

"He didn't need to. That was a fine job you did in the park. What part of 'easily overstimulated' did you not understand?"

"You were stalking us?!"

Rinoa went wide-eyed with revulsion. Zell and Selphie wore similarly uncomfortable looks by the door, reduced to helpless observers.

"Don't flatter yourself," Quistis menaced. "I couldn't care less how much you want to make things up to him for whatever reason. It's when you start heaping even more baggage on him,knowingwhat he has ahead, that I take issue. And then you top it all off by blowing up in his face!"

"And you think it's a good idea to just let him fester by himself?!" Rinoa countered, letting all composure fall by the wayside. "As if that's going to help anything!"

"It's better than pouring gasoline on the fire like you've done! I've known him far longer than you have. I understand how he ticks better than you could ever hope to. So, I suggest you swallow your pride, and learn to leave things that don't concern you alone!"

The foyer fell silent in the wake of Quistis' shrill voice. Rinoa stood motionless in the face of it. She tightly clutched at the Odine Bangles, feeling as though she could crush them with her bare hands. She hadn't started this fight. As her fury reached its boiling point however, she vowed she would be the one to finish it.

"Sorry," she snidely apologized. She brought the bangles behind her back, and slipped them into the pouch on her rear. "Far be it from me to go stepping on your toes. I never would've guessed you'd be so easily threatened."

"Excuse me?!" Quistis exploded.

Rinoa smirked. She'd hit just the nerve she'd been aiming for.

"Don't try to hide it. Even an idiot could see the game you're playing here. For someone so worried about Squall cutting himself off from everyone, you sure like to keep him on a tight leash, don't you? It's fine, just as long as he knows he has you, right? And then, one day he'll finally understand that all he needs is his tender, loving girlfriend, or mother-figure, or whatever the hell you think you are, who's always been by his side. It's disgusting! Maybe Seifer was on to something after all! You are a fraud, playing caretaker in the hope somebody will love y-"

The slap cracked hard across her face. Her cheek screamed in pain as her neck twisted sideways. She stumbled, gritting her teeth in anguish. Her eyes had barely even registered the lunge, quick as it was.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that!" Quistis growled. "But while we're on the subject, I'd say Squall was on to something about you! Nothing but a spoiled brat with no respect. Just like your thick-headed boyfriend was!"

"You bitch!" Rinoa shrieked.

Her balled right fist met Quistis' palm in mid-flight. She immediately drew back her left for a low jab, when her legs were suddenly swept out from under her. She toppled over onto the hard tiled floor, landing on her left hip. The impact forced a hiss from her gritted teeth.

"Instructor!" Zell's voice rang out through the hall.

"Stop it, you two!" Selphie frantically yelped.

Rinoa peeked her eyes up, meeting Quistis' indignant face staring down at her.

"You will never win against me," she grumbled. "You're not a fighter. You're a liability. And I'm telling you for the last time to stay out of our business. And Squall's."

"What's going on here?!"

Rinoa craned her neck back. Her father stood in uniform with Buel, the two having emerged from the hall leading to his study.

"N-nothing, sir!" Zell called from the door. He raced forward to Rinoa's side. "Just a little accident. Nothing to worry about! Here, let me help."

He extended his hand to her as Quistis turned back around. She stopped only to retrieve the glove she'd whipped off from the floor. Rinoa rose with Zell's assistance, her hip and cheek both still sore.

"See those three to the car," her father told Buel. "I will be out momentarily."

The aide complied with a bow. Zell grimaced with sympathy to Rinoa, ducking his head as he trailed back to the door. She watched the three file outside one by one. Selphie shot her a concerned glance before stepping through. The large oak doors closed behind Buel, leaving her alone with her father. She braced herself for the impending lecture.

"What happened just now?" he began predictably. "Why is your cheek red?"

"It's none of your concern," she mimicked his intonation from the previous afternoon.

"Well, with an attitude like that, I have a reasonably good guess. I ought to give the other one a smack right now for talking to me like that. Alas, there are more pressing matters to attend to."

He strode forward to the entrance, and propped the left-hand door open with his foot. He brought his hand up to the touch-screen control panel on the wall, pressing his fingers to its surface. With several more command prompts, the mansion's security system was engaged; the moment the front door closed, each and every exit and window would be bolted shut, and the alarm system activated.

"It'll be chaos out there tonight," he told her. "This is for your own safety. Hopefully things will be different once it's all over. Just know this: whatever you may think of me, there are plenty of quarrels I have with how this nation's been run over the years. I'm not proud of every order I've given or carried out. But each action I've taken has been in the hope that one day, lasting change will come. With any luck, tonight will be the first step on the road to better days ahead. Good night. I love you… even after all that's come between us."

He stepped outside, and closed the door behind him. A click sounded as it locked into place. Rinoa stood alone in the foyer, her head bowed in contemplation. It didn't matter whether her father's admission were sincere or just another means to force her into compliance. For each and every plea she'd made, be it with him or with Quistis, she'd been dismissed as a nuisance, shoved to the sidelines, forced to stand idly by as her lover's killer took the stage before the world.

No… I'm not going to just sit here and do nothing. I am not a liability. This isn't a game to me.

She took off down the hallway her father and Buel had come from, blowing by room after room until she came to his study. She turned her focus to her mother's sculpted bust in the corner; it rested on a pedestal within a narrow semi-circular alcove carved into the wall. Her expression was much the same as her portrait further along the wall, solemn yet elegant. And yet, despite the mystique so vividly captured by the artist, it was not the painting which held the secret she sought.

She took hold of the emerald gemstone on the neck, twisted it 90 degrees counter-clockwise, put her free hand to the alcove's rear, and pushed. The wall, pillar, bust, and all slowly swung outward. It opened to reveal a dark stairwell stretching down into the void. She'd unwittingly discovered the secret passageway in her childhood; it connected to the city's sewer system. Over the years, she'd made regular use of it to sneak in and out of the house whenever she could.

The more things change…

She stepped through, turned, and heaved the wall back along its treads. It closed, leaving her in total darkness. She fumbled for the passage's side to guide herself along. Her mind was made up.

I might not be a SeeD, but… I can do this!

"Talk about a packed house," Irvine commented. His words were barely audible over the gathered masses all around them.

"It's history in the making," Squall grumbled. "It never fails to bring out that insecurity in people. That need to be there to see it happen, and be part of something bigger than themselves. It's reassuring to fall in line with the group… or, so I'm told."

"Well, one thing's fer sure: one way or another, they're in fer a night they'll never forget."

Squall swept his eyes over the commotion in the Presidential Square. Where once streams of traffic had crossed, there now stood a veritable sea of people packed together. Two giant display screens had been erected to either side of the Presidential Residence's gates. Both projected a close-up of the now vacant speaking podium high above; the picture was far more clear than that of the Timber TV station's outside monitor. Manned cameras were set up on scaffolding all around the crowd's rim, a waterfall of HD cables running down their sides. Though the communication tower would still be in use to broadcast the proceedings to Esthar, the event would simultaneously be streamed across the cable network to all other areas for which it was viable. It mattered little to Squall; whether grainy or crystal clear, the eyes of the world would be upon them shortly.

The intersecting roads to the east, west, and south were each overseen by a blockade of soldiers, acting as security checkpoints for those arriving. Squall had opted to conceal his GF in the fore of his steel-toed boot for the pat-down procedure. It had given him severe discomfort, with no leeway for his toes, and required he move at a slower pace to appear natural. Regardless, he hadn't been willing to go in without it. He'd already relinquished his gunblade, ammunition compartment, and supply pouch to the general, as had Irvine his shotgun and bullet belt; both sets of weapons and effects were to be handed off to their escort. The metal sphere was his only means of self-defense for the time being. He'd fished it out of his shoe upon taking position, and re-clipped it to his entwined belts.

He looked up again to the digital time display above the Presidential Residence. Each tick brought them another second closer to their moment of destiny.

18:58:34, 18:58:35…

"So, listen," Irvine spoke again. "I've got a question fer ya."

"What? Is it about the plan?"

"Well, sorta. It's jus'… is it true that SeeDs ain't supposed to question their mission?"

Squall abruptly swiveled his head to him. Of every potential issue the sharpshooter could have been needlessly distracted by, he hadn't expected something so poignant. It was the same dilemma he'd been struggling to rationalize over the course of the week.

"Why do you care?" he shot back.

"'Cause I wanna be sure o' the kinda man ya are. Is that somethin' ya hold yerself to fer the sake o' yer honor? Or is it jus' 'bout followin' orders 'cause it's all ya know how to do? I guess what I'm gettin' at is… if it came down to it, d'ya think ya'd be able to let that kinda loyalty go?"

He had no concrete answer prepared. He'd lived his life thus far at the whim of various instructors and superiors; whatever his feelings on the subject matter or exercise at hand, he'd always applied himself, and abided by the Garden code of conduct. The field exam had been a rare instance of insubordination on his otherwise spotless record. That he hadn't been made to share Seifer's punishment still haunted him; perhaps he would even still be alive had he been forced to remain at Balamb with him.

Obedience was a core tenant of the Garden code. Still, he did not regret his dereliction; to learn that Caraway had actually intended for the Dollet invasion to fail only strengthened his resolve. And so, his dilemma: how could he call himself a SeeD in lieu of his defiance to the army's very principles?

"Even so, I'm not entirely without sympathy for your reasoning. The last thing I want is for you all to become mindless machines, incapable of thinking and acting for yourselves. The mark of a great leader is the ability to make the best decision when the right decision isn't always clear."

"It's complicated," he finally answered. "Ask me again when this is all over. Or don't. Tonight's not the night to get hung up on these kinds of things. We both know what needs to be done."

"Have it yer way," Irvine shrugged. "Still… if ya knew yer enemy was pure evil, ya'd naturally be more fired up to fight 'em, right?"

"Pure evil?" Squall repeated.

He did not understand how the question followed from the last. There was little doubt that the sorceress was a fearsome figure, and at the very least culpable in his rival's execution. And yet, he knew nothing of her motivations, nor the road that had led her to an alliance with Galbadia. Did the partnership she'd forged necessarily reflect her moral standing?

"Right and wrong aren't what separate us and our enemies. It comes down to our different standpoints, our perspectives of the world. There's no inherently good or bad position, just two sides holding different views."

Such was the ethos of SeeD, to take no side but the one which provided payment. But even as the words left his mouth, the frustration brought on by Seifer's death refused to relieve itself. He could no longer keep himself emotionally distanced from the operation at hand. It had become personal to him. He sought retribution, and as the last ray of sunlight fell away beyond the horizon, he swore he would have it at any cost.

"Well, here we are," General Caraway announced.

The limousine gradually pushed forward to just beside the Iguion Gate's southern entrance. They'd passed through the security checkpoint without incident, owing to the privacy screen and tinted windows shielding Quistis and her crew from sight. The general's executive permission had been enough to get them through without further scrutiny. A common patrol car would have no such leeway, hence Squall and Irvine's insertion into the crowd ahead of their designated pickup. Pedestrians parted at the behest of the limousine, retreating to the sidewalks. The vehicle slowly turned, coming to a rest before the looming archway.

"This is where we part ways," Caraway continued, extending his open palm out to them. A rusted key lay within his grasp. "I must be on my way to the compound. This is the key to the maintenance door on the right-hand side. Climb the ladder to the top. You'll find the gate controls there. Best of luck."

"General, may I ask what our exit strategy is?" Quistis asked as she rose from her seat to take the key. "Even if we succeed, would we not be cornered inside?"

"Stay put, and keep the door locked," he answered bluntly. "My colleagues close to the president will make arrangements for your release in the aftermath."

"How are they ever gonna get us off the hook for this?" Zell asked incredulously.

"That is not your concern," he declared. The rear door of the limousine opened behind them. "Execute your orders as instructed, and leave the legalistic matters to us. Now, please be on your way. The people of the world are depending on you."

Quistis reluctantly bowed her head, and quickly maneuvered herself out of the vehicle. Selphie and Zell followed after, their own faces uneasy as Buel closed the door and started back around to the driver's side. The three strode onward into the crowd gathered beneath the grand archway. They hugged the right-hand wall as they inched their way forward. No matter how self-assured Caraway seemed of his plan, his refusal to give them a straight answer left Quistis with little confidence.

They soon reached the steel maintenance door ingrained into the side. Quistis jammed the key into the lock, twisted it, and swung the door open with a creak. She stepped into the dimly lit, brick-laden interior. A bulky network of gears rose upward to the ceiling, as did a steel-runged ladder set into the wall.

"Lock the door, Zell," she called back.

He obeyed as she took hold of the rusted handles, and hoisted herself up.

"They're gonnna 'make arrangements' for us?" Zell quipped. "What the hell does that even mean?! Anyone else get the feeling we're being hung out to dry here?"

"Yeah," Selphie agreed. "You'd think they'd have the decency to let us know how we're getting out of this."

"It doesn't matter," Quistis grunted. "It's our duty to execute the mission as instructed, like he said. We'll just have to put our trust in him."

She finally pulled herself up over the lip, and looked around the gateway's control room. A lever protruded out beside the assortment of gears on the west wall. A single window had been installed on the north side, providing an unmatched view of the Presidential Residence. She darted her eyes across the sea of people gathered in front, wondering if perhaps she'd be able to pick out Irvine's cowboy hat among them.

"I guess so," Zell sighed as he followed Selphie up. "All we can do now is make sure our part goes off without a hitch."

"Fortunately, we've already dealt with the biggest inconvenience," Quistis muttered. Her rage threatened to flare up again at the very mention of it.

"You know, it might not be my place, but… I think you should apologize to her when this is all over," Selphie suggested, her tone unusually serious. "That was way over the line. I get that she was disrespectful to you, but it's like Irvine said: the reason she lashes out like that is because it's all she knows how to do. It's just the way people who come from a broken home grow up. No mom, a dad that's never there for her when she needs him… it's not something I'd wish on anyone. So, please… I'm not saying to just roll over and accept that kind of treatment from her, but… maybe try to be more understanding of where she's coming from?"

Quistis thought it over as she continued to stare out the window. She'd tried to be diplomatic with Rinoa, just as she had with Seifer over the years, and in both cases been rewarded with blatant disrespect. Squall had likewise made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with her, either. She'd strived to be understanding of others all her life, only to be humiliated and disregarded time and again.

"They told me I failed as an instructor. That I lacked leadership qualities. That it was a mistake to have given the promotion to someone so inexperienced. I wasn't strict enough, didn't discipline my students the way they wanted. Seifer was all the proof they needed on that one. But that… that… wasn't the kind of instructor I wanted to be. I thought I could do things differently. I thought I could make friends with my students, be the kind of person to build them up instead of tearing them down for every little mistake. I tried my best… I really did. I wonder where I went wrong…"

"You're right. It's not your place. Now, enough talk. We're on standby. Act like it."