Days blurred into nights for Alaric. Sleep offered no solace, only a relentless barrage of nightmares filled with Selena's lifeless eyes and the echoes of his own screams. The metallic tang of blood lingered in his dreams, a constant reminder of the five lives he'd taken within the fractured dimension.

Food sat untouched on his bedside table, its aroma a mockery of his lost appetite. He retreated further into himself, a solitary fortress guarded by a wall of grief. Even his parents, worried but unsure of the specifics surrounding Selena's capture (Vermin Claws was all they knew), couldn't penetrate his emotional barricade.

One afternoon, while his parents were away on errands, a sharp rapping on the door jolted Alaric from his self-imposed isolation. He shuffled towards the sound, his movements sluggish and devoid of their usual vitality. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a man in a crisp black suit and an unsettlingly wide smile.

"Good day, Mr. Alaric Cruz," the man greeted, his voice smooth like polished marble. "I am Agent Jake Cristobal, from the Hunter's Embassy. I'd like to have a word with you regarding the recent rift activity, the Vermin Claws incident, and… the unfortunate demise of your friend, Selena."

Alaric's gaze narrowed, even beneath the concealing eyepatch. His remaining eye widened in surprise, a spark of suspicion flickering within its depths. Why was an agent from the prestigious Hunter's Embassy at his doorstep? What information did they possess about the events within the rift? And how did they know about Selena, about the truth buried within the collapsing dimension? A tangled knot of questions formed in his gut, each demanding an answer.

Agent Cristobal's unwavering smile seemed to mock Alaric's confusion. It was a façade that sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn't a friendly visit. This was something far more complex, something that threatened to unravel the fragile peace he'd managed to forge within his grief-stricken heart.

Agent Cristobal gestured towards a nearby bench, its worn wood contrasting sharply with his pristine suit. Teenagers on the adjacent basketball court shrieked with competitive fervor, their prize a coveted bottle of iced water on a scorching summer day. The idyllic scene felt a world away from Alaric's turmoil.

"So," Cristobal began, his smile dimming slightly, "how are you holding up, Alaric?"

Alaric's posture remained rigid, his voice devoid of warmth as he replied, "What do you want, sir?"

"No need for formalities, Alaric," Cristobal chuckled, a touch too forced. "Call me Jake. The truth is, this isn't an official embassy visit. I came for… personal reasons."

Confusion creased Alaric's brow. "Personal reasons?"

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Cristobal leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I was inside the rift with you, Alaric. When Selena..." he trailed off, leaving the grim sentence unfinished.

Alaric's remaining eye widened. How was that possible? He distinctly remembered facing Barrera and his goons, the Vermin Claws, alone. "But… I didn't see anyone else. There were only the Vermin Claws, Barrera…"

"Ah," Cristobal interrupted, a sheepish grin replacing his earlier seriousness. "That's because I was... undercover. You see, I'm an agent with the Hunter's Embassy. Infiltrating the Vermin Claws here in the Philippines for the past year and a half has been my mission."

He chuckled, pointing a finger at himself. "And during that little scuffle in the rift? Remember the Vermin Claw who fainted dramatically when you threw a punch? That was me."

Awkward silence descended as Alaric's mind raced. A faint memory surfaced – a lone Vermin Claw collapsing theatrically, a clear act designed to avoid a fight. A blush crept up his neck. "Ah, yes," he mumbled, sheepishly confirming Cristobal's story.

Cristobal cleared his throat, the playful facade fading. "Look, Alaric," he said, his voice turning serious once more. "There's a lot I need to tell you about the Vermin Claws, about Selena, and… about what happened inside that rift."

The weight of Cristobal's words settled on Alaric's shoulders, a heavy mantle that threatened to crush him. After a tense silence, Cristobal finally broke the ice.

"Alright, Alaric," he began, his tone serious. "The main reason for my impromptu visit? The Hunter's Embassy wants you."

Alaric's head snapped up, disbelief etched on his face. "Me? Why?"

Cristobal raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Alaric? You single-handedly took down the Vermin Claws, Barrera, and even the mighty Locust. Of course, the embassy sees you as a potential asset. A valuable addition to their ranks."

A flicker of suspicion ignited in Alaric's single eye. "Or," Cristobal continued, his voice dropping a notch, "they could see you as a bigger threat."

Panic clawed at Alaric's throat. "What do you mean a threat? And how did they even know about me?"

Cristobal chuckled, a touch too dry. "Being an undercover agent means always being prepared, Alaric. Spy cam, you know the drill. Even inside that collapsing rift, I recorded everything. Your fight, the takedown of Mr. Barrera and Locust… the whole package, including that rare skill of yours, rift opening."

He leaned back, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "And when you left me and the other unconscious Vermin Claws near the embassy? Let's just say they received a rather… informative video shortly after."

Alaric shot up from the bench, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He glared at Cristobal, his one eye blazing with a mix of anger and fear. The agent, however, simply held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Woah, woah, woah, Alaric," Cristobal chuckled, a nervous tremor hiding behind his smile. "Hold your horses, I just spilled the beans about their interest in you, not your exact location, relax!"

Jake, sensing the rising panic on Alaric's face, chimed in with a reassuring grin. "Don't sweat it, buddy. The video I sent them? Totally muted. No way those snoops will hear a peep of your conversation with Locust. Plus, your Vermin Claw mask? It's like a superhero's secret identity – totally anonymous! They'll never know your real name, never find you."

Alaric's brow furrowed. "Hold up, Jake. Why the hero complex? What's your angle in hiding me?"

A mischievous glint twinkled in Jake's eyes as a playful smirk spread across his face. "Let's just say, Alaric, I get a kick out of a good adventure. And let's be honest, a reawakened Untouched? That's the most exciting thing to happen in this dusty town in ages!"

A sly grin stretched across Jake's face, the playful glint in his eyes intensifying. "Listen, Alaric," he began, leaning forward conspiratorially. "How about a deal? You keep your secret identity under wraps, thanks to yours truly, and in return, I get to tag along on your adventures. Witness the rise of a reawakened Untouched firsthand? Now that's the dopest thing anyone could ask for in this sleepy town! So, what do you say? We partners?" He extended a hand towards Alaric, palm open in a gesture of camaraderie.

Alaric stared at the outstretched hand, a mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling within him. This whole situation felt…unexpected. Who was this thrill-seeking stranger, and why was he so invested in Alaric's newfound abilities? Could he trust him? A barrage of questions bombarded Alaric's min d, each one a tiny hammer chipping away at his initial fear.