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It was the shouting down the hallway that jarred her from her nightmares. They had returned with renewed vigour and all Elle could think about at night was the sleeping pills on her nightstand which she had refused to take. Now she wished for them. Throwing back the covers, Elle slid out of her hard cot.

Raspy breaths and coughs sounded from the end of the room. She grabbed her crutches, grunting as she pulled open the door. Thank the gods she had refused to take the sleeping pills again. Elle couldn't afford to be in a sleep-induced state. Streams of agents raced down the hall, leaving her baffled.

Someone screamed. This prompted Elle to limp as fast as she could on a bad foot in the general direction of the panicked horde. Cerid flashed in her mind and she moved faster, praying to all the gods that Jax hadn't done as he had threatened to in the library the night before. As an official agent, she didn't think twice before passing underneath the carved arch, out of recruitment.

Her foot threatened to buckle as sharpness jabbed her chest with every breath.

The crowd's speed slowed. Agents clutching shawls around their shoulders, having pulled on their uniform. Some held weapons. Elle pushed past them all, making a path for her by whacking people with her crutch. They arrived at the bottom floor of the Vault.

She hadn't been this far down before. glancing up, through the glowing beacon she could see the balconies that she had stood on—a simpler time. Every agent fitted onto the massive floor. It would take her a good few minutes to sprint across. Elle wasn't tall enough to see over the sea of heads, so continued her barging.

"Move a bit, sorry—there, coming through. Move."

Elle made it to the final few, lifting her gaze. People had stopped. The assassin didn't bother to contain her horror at the sigh before her. Air whooshed out of her pained lungs as her hand flew to her mouth.

There, suspended from a rope in the centre of the Vault's floor was a man. Elle immediately knew him to be Jax. Brown hair, cut short. Mangled face. They had tortured him. Her heart plummeted further, she couldn't feel it beat anymore. His tan skin had drained of colour, tinged blue. A draft wafting through the cavern caused his limp body to spin, allowing her to fully see the extent of the damage to his face.

Elle's empty stomach heaved. Both of his brown eyes had been gouged out, leaving only dark sockets. Pits of black that damned them all to the Hells. They had sliced open his cheeks, extending his mouth in a bloody smile.

She retched again and vomited. Spitting on the floor, the assassin wiped her mouth, grinding her teeth together. His clothes had been ripped and torn, leaving him indecent in death. That stupid, stupid boy. Was she shaking? A look down noted her whole frame shook.

Someone nearby stepped over the vomit and gripped her arm, holding her up. Elle barely registered the copper hair before Leo turned her into his chest. She felt his uneven breaths and hiccups as he soothed her back, both of them shaking.

Cerid had mentioned the punishments. How only the most traitorous and evil were killed and displayed in the pit of the Vault. Stuck on the stone floor until taken down and carelessly thrown from DETRA.

The smell of rotting flesh burned her nostrils. She pressed her face further into Leo's soft shirt. The body must have been there for hours before someone stumbled upon the surprise.

A spectacle. That's what Jax was now. A fucking display case to warn, to threaten. He had tried to kill Cerid, alone. DETRA were ruthless with their public punishments.

"DETRA are some sick bastards." Leo choked on the grief coating his voice as he held her tighter. No one around them heard his comment. Jax's murder was her fault. She let him go, didn't stop him as he stormed from the room. They could have worked together, compromised and perhaps he wouldn't be hanging there.

"Take him down." Her voice broke.

"I can't, I can't." Leo stroked her hair, pausing as he looked around. "Let's get you out of here."

Elle let him lead her away, her sluggish movements not helped by crutches and cast. When she glanced back all she could see was his empty eyes glaring. Blaming her. Jax Gailsen: cocky, arrogant, determined simply didn't exist anymore.

Elle could have sworn she caught sight of silver hair flashing on one of the upper balconies as a man looked down on the spectacle. She really was going mad.

Keeping in time with their steps, Tristan strolled up to them casually. Though when Elle glanced at his face, his tense grimace was anything but. They stopped in one of the empty hallways. Kath rounded the corner, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. Her pink hair was dulled and lifeless.

Leo set Elle down before enveloping Kath into a big embrace, muffling her sobs.

Elle just sat there, cheeks dry but stripped of colour. It felt like her emotions had been thrown into a churning ocean then dumped back ashore in a messy heap. No one cared whether they were seen together. Let them think they were a group of agents grieving. She met Tristan's eyes and saw the same emptiness reflected there.

She was a failure. The assassin realised this with a start, then the more the thought about it the more she knew it to be true. She had failed protecting Cerid, the lives of countless innocents stained her hands. Jax. She had failed Mikel in more ways than one. She had failed her family

What achievement had she made in her life? The assassin had known nothing but steel and pain since she arrived at the Order and could hardly recall the brighter, soft memories of her childhood before.

No one would remember a sharp-minded, swaggering assassin by the name of Elle Hallor. Like Jax, she would float into oblivion with all the other nameless passers-by.

If no one cared or relied on you, then no one would get hurt.

DETRA are some sick bastards. DETRA killed my friends.

DETRA are dangerous.