Adelheid. The largest port in the country was lively in light's dead casket. Steamships sailed into the harbor waiting to be docked and unloaded of cargo. Seagulls, arguably the crows of the sea, circled overhead, and the occasional ship's whistle stifled the racket they made. This city was named two centuries ago after its founder- a woman whose sharp business acumen grew this small town into the thriving vital port it is today. Alter always found the coast intriguing, so different from the central lands where air was still and crisp, carrying clumps of decaying leaves and sweet perfume from flowers. The air here, however, was flavored with salt and burnt seaweed. The ocean breeze battered the 'aroma' into the face, rousing the mind in an invigoratingly smarting way. Alter resisted the urge to kick off his socks and shoes and curl his toes into the soft sand and splash around in the water because it was an objectively silly thing to do and because Arwen would look on disapprovingly, he assumed. The city was a three hour flight from the capital, but Alter never had time for leisure, and when he did visit a coastal city, his work kept him in conference rooms hidden from the cheerful sun.

Calm yourself, he scolded, This is the ocean, nothing more, nothing less.

Alter pivoted on his heel. Nothing special.

And yet, somewhere deep in his heart was the hope that one day when his work was complete he would return and greet the sea. The two hid in the shadows to avoid workers working frantically to store all sorts of goods in their proper locations. Alter looked at the map. It flaunted a mark of arrogant provocation and the building it indicated was located in an area far from the main hubs of activity.

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A trap.

They refrained from informing the ASSR so only they would investigate it. The fewer deaths the better. And fewer eyes meant the massacre would not spark backlash.

Arwen climbed atop some barrels leaned against the building's side.

He whispered, "Ready?"

"Give them death."

Alter took a few steps back and crashed through the wall, wood splinters raining down on him. Glass broke above as canisters diffused smoke.

Alter picked fragments out his collar, "You couldn't break a different window?"

Arwen clapped Alter's arm and ran past. "You couldn't step aside?"

They separated to cover the entire building. Alter forced his ears to pick up even the tiniest noise. Boxes stacked high and thick smoke blocked moonlight. Sight was near impossible. More than once he barely avoided colliding with boxes. But that wasn't the only problem. He heard nothing. No footsteps, shouts, shots, or heartbeats. Nothing. He met Arwen in the center.

Alter lowered his rifle, and said, in disbelief, "Empty. The place is empty."

Arwen put his hands on his hips. "Cowards!"

He prepared to leave, but Alter felt uneasy. Perhaps playing a game was the enemy's way of tormenting them? Alter stood in front of some boxes.

Two butchered officers, what next? What was in these boxes?

He tore off the lid. Pyramids of dynamite greeted him. Alter whirled to see Arwen pacing near the tallest box stack. He ran.

Hiss.

Fire ignited a fuse somewhere in the room.

"Arwen!"