I immediately realized Aroha would not like to see me like this, my hands and entire body stained with blood. In a swift motion, I swiped all the blood off, trying to conceal the evidence of the recent struggle. Aroha's bedroom door swung open, and she looked towards the stairs' direction with concern and curiosity etched on her face. Her eyes soon locked onto me, and I could see her initial fear dissipate, replaced by a subtle relief. She stood back, maintaining a cautious distance, acknowledging that the situation wasn't entirely over. Some part of her was undoubtedly scared of the dead body of Deception on the stairs, yet she wanted to ensure I knew she was safe.

I turned around to survey the aftermath and noticed the two individuals who worked under Deception still lying on the ground. I took two steps down the stairs, and my gaze focused on the one on the left, who seemed to be twitching. It wasn't the involuntary movement of an unconscious person; he was awake. With a stern tone, I warned them, "Stay here until the police arrive; you're under arrest." Both of them used their hands to grab the floor, attempting to orient themselves. The one on the left was in the motion of heading through the glass, while the other seemed determined to go through the wall. The one on the left took a single step before I swiftly grabbed him by his collar. Simultaneously, the other continued his attempt, but even with the added force from the first one against me, I managed to grab him by the back of his hoodie. Looking at them closely, I thought that Tony must've knocked these guys out. They appeared disoriented and lacking the strength to resist.

One of them turned, desperation etched on his face as he pleaded, "Let me go, man! I'm going to die if the Alliance figures out we failed!" I coldly twisted my head to face him directly, the bright light vesturing me. "Are you the one who can give me the best information?" I demanded. He screamed, "Yes, I know a lot about the Alliance!" Meanwhile, the other yelped, realizing he had no utility in this negotiation. I, without uttering a word, let go of the one I'll call 'hoodie' for a moment. The brief relief on his face was short-lived. I swiftly pushed down on his collar, and a sharp crack echoed in the dimly lit space as I dislocated his shoulder. He crumpled to the ground, writhing in agony. The pain seemed to be overwhelming, and he struggled to contain it.

In the background, the other captive made a futile attempt to free himself. With a slicing motion behind him, he cut the collar of his shirt off. However, his sluggish movements rendered this act inconsequential. Seizing the opportunity, I ran towards him, my footsteps echoing ominously. With a swift and calculated motion, I grabbed the back of his head and slammed him face-first onto the ground. The impact created a small crater, and the air seemed to resonate with the finality of the act. He lay motionless, yet another life extinguished. Satisfied, I muttered under my breath, "Good, rotten bastard." The room was now filled with an unsettling silence, broken only by the sporadic movements and pained moans of the one still grappling with the dislocated shoulder.

I yelled up to Aroha, my voice cutting through the tension, "Hey, when's the police going to get here?" The irony of the situation struck me as I heard the distant approach of a helicopter, no more than a mile away. That must be them, I thought. I walked back towards the one with the broken shoulder, each step echoing with anger. He wanted to kill Aroha, and he successfully caused Tony's death. That was enough to make me forget about his well being. Kneeling in front of him, I inquired, "What should I call you?" He hesitated before responding, "My codename is... Hawk. That's what my team calls me." I couldn't help but make a dark joke, "Well, your team won't call you that anymore, huh?" His worry was high as he shifted his gaze to the left.

Deciding to delve deeper, I stopped kneeling and sat down criss-cross applesauce in front of him. My hands rested on my knees as I probed further, "Who ordered this hit on me?" Hawk answered quickly, his voice carrying a hint of shyness, "The Head of Assassination, man." He pointed towards Deception, "He was the main fighting force with us. We were supposed to be backup for any police force or mid-level Gifted. You were classified as a representative level opponent." Intrigued, I asked, "You knew he was a representative? He had someone else's body. Also, who is the Head of Assassination?" Hawk revealed, "I was entrusted by him with his identity..." The concept of trust in an organization like this seemed dubious. He twiddled his thumbs nervously and continued, "The Head of Assassination is the one who oversees all assassinations in the Alliance. He's hundreds of times stronger than representatives; you stand no chance." Unfazed, I flexed my right arm, "You're a bit out of line, don't you think?" Hawk squealed, raising his arms to guard himself. I had no intention of hitting him, at least not yet.

Multiple parts of the roof broke, and ropes came through, the sharp sound of fractured structure heard in the aftermath. I looked up and spoke, my voice carrying authority, "The representative is dead. I got someone you need to arrest right here." Their response was measured, a mix of attention and casual observance. All ten of them descended skillfully down the ropes, their swift movements a testament to their training. As they reached the ground, they assessed the situation with practiced efficiency, exchanging glances and communicating through their radios. I couldn't quite catch their conversation, but at this point, I didn't care. I assumed it involved body bags and investigators, the routine aftermath of such encounters.

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A super-sized officer approached me, his presence commanding attention. He extended his hand, and I grabbed it, rising to my feet as he began to explain, "We're moving you to a new location. Your mission has changed; we will brief you shortly." I nodded in acknowledgment. Asserting my own agenda, I told him, "I would interrogate this guy and then throw him to the wolves." His helmet concealed most of his expression, but I could discern a glimpse of a smile. He responded cryptically, "He'll wish it was that simple. An escort will meet you downstairs." I couldn't help but wonder—how could someone whose sole purpose is to cause harm to others be so visibly afraid of harm to themselves? The irony didn't escape me. With a dismissive "whatever" I walked up the stairs, ready to leave this chaotic scene behind.

Reaching Aroha, I grabbed her hand, a reassuring gesture. I told her, "Let us leave, Aroha." She held onto my hand, her eyes searching for answers as she asked, "You killed him, right? That guy?" I responded with a simple, "Yes." We walked towards the exit of the apartment, conveniently avoiding Tony's body. Just as we were about to leave, she inquired, "Where's Tony?"

I stopped us for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. Ah, Deception was so lucky to take out a great guy like him. If, and IF I was there, that wouldn't have happened. The weight of the unspoken 'what-ifs' lingered. I carefully chose my words, "He's dead, he died protecting us." I avoided using 'you' to shield her from unnecessary guilt. Aroha let go of my hand, not in malice but perhaps in an attempt to process the harsh reality. She resumed walking, and I allowed her the space to gather her thoughts.

As we continued, I observed a single drop of water hitting the floor. Damn it! This day has been abysmal in more ways than one. The unsaid frustration and sorrow lingered beneath the surface, threatening to engulf us. I wrestled with the unsettling realization that the police alone couldn't guarantee our safety. I needed allies, and I needed them now. The thought of recruiting someone from the school crossed my mind—Megumi, perhaps? No, he's too weak, and I can't risk dragging him into the line of fire. Just as I grappled with these thoughts, my phone rang, a sudden interruption to my contemplation. It was Megumi. He texted me about my absence today, likely curious. I quickly crafted a plausible excuse in response, my mind racing with the need to ensure Aroha's emotional well-being.

Going down the elevator after Aroha, a police escort awaited us on the street, the sleek black car exuding an air of sophistication. The officer introduced himself with a courteous smile, "Hello, I'm Ethan. I'm here to escort you to your new living quarters." I offered a nod of acknowledgment, "Thanks." The door of the car was opened, revealing Aroha already inside. The interior was luxurious, but the atmosphere was far from celebratory. Ethan opened the front door, settling into the driver's seat. With a low hum, the engine roared to life, and we began our journey.

Glancing back, I couldn't escape the sight of the destruction left behind in the building. A heavy sigh escaped me as I facepalmed over my right eye, the weight of the recent events settling in. The realization hit hard—I was going to have to attend Tony's funeral, facing his grieving family who would undoubtedly harbor resentment towards me. I grappled with the haunting question: would he have died if I had never been given this mysterious book? The burden of guilt intensified; I had taken a life, willingly or not. Lost in my contemplation, a sudden light emanated from in front of me as I mentioned the book. A peculiar glow that no one else seemed to notice. It was a stark reminder that the answers I sought lay within the mysterious pages of that ancient tome, and only I could perceive the mystical illumination it emitted.

The book materialized, dropping into my hands, and I couldn't help but feel bewildered. I distinctly remembered leaving it back in the locker before all this chaos unfolded. In my mind, I questioned, "Is this part of the book upgrade?" The response echoed, "Yes. The book will now be stored in a separate dimension which you could summon at will." A newfound convenience, at least in managing the enigmatic artifact.

While the mystical dialogue occurred in my mind, Aroha sat by the window, her demeanor weighed down by an overwhelming sadness. Determined to lift her spirits, I spoke gently, "Hey, Aroha. This isn't your fault." She turned to me, her eyes brimming with tears. In a burst of emotion, she yelled, "Of course it is! If I was stronger... or if I called someone else, Tony wouldn't be dead!" I countered, "If you didn't call Tony, you would be dead or kidnapped again! He fought to keep you safe on my behalf. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine!" Unleashing her frustration, she threw a punch that landed on my cheek, an impact that neither hurt nor fazed me. Undeterred, she continued to yell, "Don't say that about yourself, idiot!"

Gently, I grabbed her wrist, my voice softening, "I'll say anything if it makes you happier! The undeniable truth is is that Tony chose to protect you! He could've left if he really wanted to. He chose to go there as fast as he could! Live on for his sake, damn it!" Overwhelmed with emotion, Aroha began to sniff and sob even more. She fell into my chest, and I held her close, offering the support she needed as she cried.