As we make our way to Marcus' office, my stomach churns. I don't want to watch the footage of me taking someone's life. I don't want to see the pictures of the aftermath.

As we get to security, I go through the motions of being searched and handing over my electronic devices. It doesn't take long, and soon, we are walking into his office.

I take a seat and wipe my clammy hands on my dress. Dread nestles in the pits of my stomach, making it churn uncomfortably. Marcus sits down and starts typing on his computer.

"I'll warn you; this isn't going to be pleasant," he tells me.

"Got it," I reply with a sigh. "What exactly am I about to watch?"

He gestures for me to stand and come around to his side of the desk. I do as I'm told. When I get there, I see a picture of my target on the computer screen. Immediately, I feel a cold sweat break out across my body.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"The dead man," Marcus replies, his jaw clenched. "This man wasn't supposed to exist. We did everything to keep his identity a secret and keep him safe from harm." Marcus rubs his temples and lets out a long sigh. "But they found him anyway. It's hardly a surprise really. With the state of our politicians at the moment, it was only a matter of time until one of them let something slip to the wrong person and spoke carelessly about classified information."

When he says that, I think back to Mr. Salt at the restaurant and how I found out about the weapon maker thanks to the listening device I planted.

"It is just another example of the incompetence of our leaders," Marcus continues. "Now, they're scrambling to figure out who is to blame for this slip in security instead of actually focusing on catching the assassin and putting in measures to make sure this sort of oversite doesn't happen again."

"Assassin?" I ask.

"Yes, a Second Realm assassin," Marcus replies, shaking his head. He leans back in his chair, staring at the image of my target. Then, he looks at me.

"They're winning, Ivy," he tells me, his voice scarily calm.

"Winning what, exactly?" I ask, frowning. "Because all I know about the Second Realm is what is told to be on the news about them mobilising tropes and weaponry around the portal. Now, I'm not saying I don't believe that is the case, but I'm not sure I completely trust what our media is telling us. Especially if it's coming from the mouths of the very politicians who are too busy bickering and making a fortune instead of helping protect their nation."

Marcus lets out a sound that is a mixture between a scoff and a laugh.

"It's propaganda all right," he says and looks me in the eyes. "It's no secret that our realm is in trouble. Pollution and overconsumption are destroying us. The problem is, because people can't see it in their day-to-day lives, they don't believe it. So, getting funding to build equipment to help this problem, as well as asking the everyday person to change their ways to lessen their impact in this realm is near impossible. Add to the mix politicians who only care about their pockets and power..." he trails off shaking his head. I think back to the conversation I overheard with Mr Salt and Owen discussing a company that works on building technology that will help with the climate crisis.

I can't even remember the name of the company. I haven't seen it anywhere. There's nothing in the news or any adverts. There have certainly been no conversations about it with my colleagues.

That's how irrelevant this company and their aim of fixing the environmental problems are to these people.

"The Second Realm has the resources we need," he says, his lips pulling into a tight line.

So, he's admitting it then. His Realm are the invaders.

"And the truth of the matter is, is war makes people money. It is also cheaper than investing in solutions for our own problems. Why make machines that provide sustainable energy when we can just invade and take oils and coals from another realm?" he asks sarcastically, shaking his head.

I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself not to snap back at him. If he knows that his realm is in the wrong, why is he helping them? The more I think about it, the more my angry heat begins to rush through me.

"But this realm is in trouble, and if invading another realm for its resources is the way to help fix it, and save the lives of millions of my people, then I will do what I have to do."

He doesn't look at me and it sounds more like he's convincing himself rather than me. I want to ask him what about the millions of lives in the Second Realm. What about the people who will lose their families to the war, their homes to the invaders and their own lives once this realm puts them to work on oil rigs or in coal mines?

The words are there on the tip of my tongue, ready for me to hurl at him. But I hold back and wait for him to speak.

"The Second Realm are putting up more of a fight than the powers of this realm thought were possible. What they believed would be a quick and simple invasion has become increasingly more complicated and expensive. I have to give it to them, Athaine's military and secret services are brilliant. They saw this coming decades ago and they've had deep sleeper agents in these lands for forty, fifty years. Maybe even longer. These agents have either worked their way up through our political ranks or have been slowly building identities for new agents ready to step into. These identities are a work of art," he says, and I notice the slight awe in his voice.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, frowning.

"They spend decades creating a person. Birth certificates, financial records, friends, family, photographs, education, taxes..." he trails off shaking his head. "So, by the time an agent becomes this person, the identity they are stepping into is completely rock solid. They appear just like everyone else. From records we can track back to their 'birth,' to families and friends who know them. They have random security footage from fifteen years ago of them buying a chocolate bar in a corner shop. They have a parking ticket from that time they accidentally parked in the wrong spot at a train station. They have a paper trail so solid, that they can pass our most extensive background checks."

"That's terrifying," I reply. He nods his head in agreement. "And your job is to hunt them down?"

"That's one of my many roles in this operation," he replies.

"But if their identities are so well made, then how is finding them even possible? I mean, it could literally be anyone?"

"Because even the best agents make mistakes. Their cover identities may be faultless on paper, but people themselves aren't. There are always clues. There are always tells. It only takes one tiny, insignificant error for everything to unravel, and when it does, I'm the one waiting."

His words make the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I gulp.

"All agents know it's only a matter of time," he continues.

Before I can reply, he turns back to the screen. "I won't show you the photographs of the aftermath," he tells me, and I almost let out a sigh of relief. "But I will show you the assassin as he makes the killing blow."

Marcus pulls up another image, and I recognise it instantly as floor twenty-seven of the under-construction building. We go silent as we watch the figure get into position. It sends chills down my spine as I watch myself calmly assemble the gun.

I want to look away as I get into position. It takes all my effort not to start hyperventilating in front of Marcus.

What if he's showing me this just so he can gauge my reaction? What if he is waiting for me to make that tiny error he's waiting for?

Marcus isn't looking at me though. Well, not me as I am now. He is staring at the screen, unblinking.

"Do. Not. Move."

Hearing those words again makes my blood run cold. Memories of that night bombard my mind, and as I watch my own actions on the footage, I can't help but feel as though I'm having some strange, out-of-body experience. It makes my head spin with disorientation.

I can't look away as I expertly take out the guard. Beside me, Marcus leans forward, staring at the footage intensely. I run back for the gun.

"For Athaine," my altered voice says and then the gun goes off with a deafening boom. I flinch. I can't help it.

Marcus lets out a shallow breath and shakes his head. We remain in silence as we watch the footage of me fighting the rest of the guards. Some of it happens off-camera. I feel relief wash through me as I realise that the strike that caught my face hasn't been captured, meaning Marcus has no idea that one of the guards injured me. If Marcus had seen that, and then looked at the bruise on my face in the same spot... well, that would have been it for me. That would have been that tiny error he was talking about.

I stop fighting and expertly pack up the weapon. Then, I pause, not looking at the camera. I almost whisper along as I say the words Cobalt instructed me to. Then, my figure is running away.

Marcus pauses it and turns around to me.

"What did he say?" he asks me. I step forward and rewind the footage. Closing my eyes, I make it look as though I'm really trying to hear clearly.

I play that little clip over and over again.

"If we can get him," I begin, frowning and making it look like I'm really concentrating on trying to translate. Then, my eyes widen as though it's suddenly clicked. I turn to Marcus.

"He said, 'If we can get him, we can get you.'" I clear my throat.

"And?" he pushes.

I lick my lips nervously, making it look as though I'm scared of the message. "Leave our Realm alone. This is your only warning."

Marcus shuts his eyes and lets out a long breath before rubbing his eyes.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"I don't understand," I say, "did the assassin leave the cameras on just to relay this message?"

"Yes. Every other camera was disabled. They wanted us to see this."

"But why risk that?" I ask.

He looks into my eyes. "Because this is it."

"What do you mean?"

Marcus leans forward and replays the shot. I flinch again. Once it's over, he turns to me again.

"This shot was magnificent," he says, the awe clear in his voice. "Whoever this is, is someone incredible. Look at the way he fights. It's effortless, easy, almost." Marcus gulps and shakes his head. "The reason why they risked this small amount of exposure, is because this person is the Second Realm's most effective and dangerous weapon. They are so confident in this person's ability, that they don't even see there being a risk of having this person's kill caught on camera. The warning isn't just coming from the words the assassin speaks at the end. Everything about this is to show us that they are dangerous, and they aren't playing anymore."

Marcus turns and looks at me, his eyes meeting mine.

"It's terrifying," I whisper. He nods his head in agreement. "Do you think they'll come for you?"

"Probably," he replies with a shrug. "But I'm a lot harder to kill than the average person."

I look back at the image on the screen and let out a long breath. "I assume you've watched this multiple times before I was brought in?"

"I have," he replies.

"And did you see anything that could help you catch this man?" I ask.

"One thing," he says, leaning forward. My heart pounds in my chest as he says that and I feel the colour drain from my face.

He clicks on the screen and replays the footage of me fighting.

"Do you see that?" he asks, his voice low as he stares at the screen.

I frown and lean closer, watching as I expertly duck out of the way of the gunfire before swiping the gun from the first guard.

"The way they move," he whispers. He pauses it and turns back to me, a calm smile on his face.

"They may be disguised as a man," he says, "but I'm not completely convinced."

My eyes widen and I look back at the screen. "So, you're saying that..." I trail off.

"I think that this new weapon of the Second Realm is most likely a woman."