Because Arseny was isolated due to the towering mountain ranges that made its border, the expansive Wilds, and the dragons, they were not prepared for the military and technological advancements of the outside world. War came in 1720 and decimated their armies. To retaliate and advance quickly, Arseny developed an organization dedicated to collecting information and safeguarding the country from outside espionage. The Arsenian Society of Surveillance and Reconnaissance was born shortly afterwards. It worked closely with the government, bringing back vital information Arsenians used to build up their technology. With such a close partnership it began the idea, and the practice, that the Director of the ASSR worked for the Prime Minister.

Black, insulated wires lined the walls of the stone passageway to power the lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. Alter hunched to avoid scraping his head. The rough, uneven corridor carved hundreds of years ago was not without a modern flair. If a person knew just the spot to press, a separate passage would appear and lead them under the canal to the opposite river bank. They turned a corner. An iron door blocked their way.

Alter went to unlock it when a voice called out, "Arwen?"

"Yes, Maks?"

"I'll open it."

A man wearing a grey peacoat and black tie stood before them. His face bloomed into a smile upon seeing Arwen, then vanished when he saw Alter.

"What are you doing down here?" Alter asked.

"I wanted to check where my usually punctual guests were."

"We were held back by an unforeseen situation in our last outing," Arwen said.

Maks scrutinized Alter, "So that's how you were injured."

Alter stopped walking. "How did you know?"

Maks patted Alter's thigh, the spot still sore, "Figure it out yourself."

Alter glanced at Arwen. Arwen just shook his head and smiled. Maks Meier- youngest Director of the ASSR. And its shortest. His head barely passed Alter's waist, and Alter straightened to make sure of that. He imagined putting documents on the highest shelf out of Maks' reach. He'd watch with delight as Maks' cheeks reddened with fury realizing he would have to ask Alter for help. Then, Alter would taunt him more by pretending to give the papers and then snatching them away. He stopped fantasizing when he saw Arwen smile at him. Arwen had always denied his psychic abilities, but wore that same expression whenever Alter distanced himself from reality. Perhaps it was just his paranoia.

"To be frank, I also just escaped a rather distasteful obligation," Maks said, "Caspara took over the press conference."

"How goes the narrative?" Arwen asked.

Maks walked backwards as he recounted the story, "A burglar broke into a house and forced the homeowner to open his safe. He was killed in the scuffle. The thief discovered evidence against organized crime and instead of fleeing with the loot he alerted the ASSR. Newspapers have nicknamed him the Principled Thief, an irony certainly lost on the people who coined the term." He unlocked the trapdoor and continued, "It took us a day to move and sort through the documents and corroborate some of the information. The ASSR are now assisting your efforts through raids and arrests."

The Director's office was relatively small. A single desk surrounded a chair on all sides but the right, from the perspective of the occupant. A cabinet next to the open side held awards and framed photos of various people. The backdoor was located in the top left corner of the room and if Alter leaned forward, he could look out the window to the right and see Parliament sitting on the banks of the Alte, also the name of Arseny's capital in honor of the river flowing through the city. The plaza, a large open space in front of the government building, was a recreational area lined with shops and restaurants. Families crowded the square on this brisk weekend evening, visiting nearby museums, theaters, parks and other landmarks, or simply enjoyed the good weather. Flocks of pigeons wandered around, sometimes menacing passersby, sometimes begging for food, but more often than not flew off in a flurry as screaming children charged into their midst like bulls.

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Arwen commented, "We've already eliminated the most dangerous groups, but are there any casualties on our side? The enemy is sure to retaliate violently."

Maks adjusted his tie and proudly said, "Our efforts in mitigating injuries were successful."

He described the ASSR's activities but Alter stopped listening. A car approached the Plaza's center. He frowned. Only ASSR vehicles were allowed in the square. How did it bypass security? The car's passenger door opened. The person pulled out a-

"Get down! Get down!" Alter roared, tackling Maks and Arwen.

The window shattered. Bullets punctured the wall. Frenzied shrieking intensified. Tires screeched. Sirens wailed after them. ASSR officials attempted to restore order. The worst had passed. Arwen stood, shaking glass shards off his shoulders. Maks popped up, pale face flushed scarlet. He quickly forced down the blush but his eyes still erupted with volcanic rage.

"Excuse me," he growled, rushing out.

Alter and Arwen sprinted down the stone passage.

Arwen said, "Maks was the target. It's highly improbable they knew we were there."

There shouldn't be any casualties amongst the public if that was the case.

"An attack on the Director is an attack on me."

If it had been just Maks in the office, sitting near the window. Alter dashed forward to blur his thoughts, extremely thankful nothing terrible happened. Arwen heaved himself onto his office floor.

Someone shouted. "Prime Minister! Sir, are you alright?"

Arwen opened the door and laid a hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"I'm quite alright, Caspara, thank you. What's the situation?"

She briefed them as they walked in the empty halls. Parliament held no sessions during weekends.

"An unknown car drove into the plaza and fired on Headquarters, aiming for the Director's office. Officers are chasing the car and its occupants as we speak. The wooden crate they left in the Plaza is being investigated. We have the perimeter secured, the public evacuated."

"Any casualties?" Alter asked. Caspara didn't respond.

They left the building and hurried down the steps, passing officers clad in white. The square, once a place for cheerful mingling, was now a desolate wasteland strewn with the remnants of a desperate stampede for safety, chairs toppled, trash littered everywhere. Blood trickled like a slow running creek around the cobblestone as the last of the bodies was carried away. Alter saw Maks besieged by worried colleagues intent on stopping him from leaving Headquarters, but when the man saw Arwen nearing the crate he broke through the barricade and rushed towards him.

"Arwen! Stop. It could be a bomb. Our specialists will handle it."

An officer with a blue feathered dragon on her shoulder walked up to the crate. Urvogal Dracoaves. What was thought to be an ancestor of modern day birds. The dragon hopped off, nostrils flaring, and circled the crate twice and squawked, shooting a small plume of fire out its mouth. The dragon arched its neck and opened its beak. The officer dropped a piece of raw meat down its gullet.

"All clear!" She picked up the box, almost buckling from the weight that caught her unaware. The officer hesitated, then walked to the group instead of the evidence room. Maks stepped in front of Arwen.

"There's a note."

"What does it say?"

"It's addressed to... to Arwen's Dog."

All eyes focused on Maks.

He adjusted his tie and said, "It's not proper protocol but may I open it now?"

"Of course."

Maks cracked the lid.

A watch and a neatly folded map rested where the brains of two severed heads lying on burgundy cloth should've been. A knife made deep jagged cuts in their hairlines but whoever mutilated them found that method tedious and smashed their skulls with an axe, gripping the moist insides to rip their heads open, a crack splitting their noses. Trails of dark red tears from the silver ASSR badges jammed into their eyes coated their cheeks. The crate trembled as the officer gasped for fresh air but inhaled more of that putrid odor.

Maks shouted, "I want a team deployed to the southeast border now! Send every station a coded telegram immediately."

Alter put the box on the ground, then embraced the officer.

Beyond the pandemonium, only Alter saw Arwen lift his arms and say, a cruel smile etched on his face, "Let there be blood."

The slain ASSR officers were part of the Border Guard stationed near the southeast frontier Arseny shared with the Kingdom of Lorendum. The station was razed in the early hours of morning. No survivors. Similar attacks hit others throughout the country, but few sustained the level of damage the first one did. Instead of fighting for their life, an officer of the southeast station transmitted a warning, alerting their comrades of the assault. The fallen were buried with the highest of accolades.