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Veiled Deceit

Chapter Seven: Mission-Final.

Chapter Seven: Mission-Final.

Jul 19, 2025

“Beware the coward lying amongst yourselves!


For they are the ones to lead you astray. 


That be the best, for the next is always death.”


-from ‘Deceit’ by Princess Sibylla of Endro





“Anastasia, do you copy?” 


“Copy. This is Anastasia.”


“In position.” 


“Standby. Over.”


“Copy” 



For most citizens of Endro, chilly, misty nights were all the more routine. With the fog from the alpine peaks cascading onto the ordinary stone roads, even the lofty castle with its towering majestique succumbed to the obscurity. 


The wisps in the sky dissipated to fully display the glitter splayed across the midnight canvas, each light clear as diamond with the crescent moon ever so smiling at its dreaming children. 


Yet, for all the corrupted shadows who dared peek through their musty caverns after hours of torturous light, it was time to dance. Such was the life of Anastasia, the black sheep of Endro’s Private Intelligence Agency and she despised it. 


Sepia eyes scanned the territory; one of the houses on Endro’s outskirts, straw and wooden ceilings, red brick walls which were filled with cracks and a small floral garden at the back- an average home, but the individual who resided was far from such normalities. 


Anastasia sighed, tilting her gaze to the white beauty of the night, a silent prayer encompassing her. 


Let this be the last. 


Her moment of longing was interrupted as a flicker of light shone from the opaque windows in the living room pacing back and forth. 


“Aquamarine, target is present. Repeat, the target is present.”


A crackle before an elderly woman responded.


“Hostiles?” 


Her eyes glazed over the area. 


“None. Await signal.”

 


She reached into her jacket’s left pocket, pulling a small rectangle mirror and angled it carefully with the moonlight. A beam flashed over the target’s roof, seemingly travelling in an endless direction until it collided with another figure atop the windmill. 


“This is Aquamarine. Signal received, initiating procedure.” 


“Copy.” 


Anstasia disconnected once more, sighing in slight fatigue. Now came the fun part of the whole operation: waiting. She checked her sniper gun’s position and aim once more, before rolling onto her back to be enveloped by starlight. She hummed her favourite rhyme, listening as the hums rolled into softly whispered words in which only the wind was to bear witness. 


Twisted songs you sang to me. 

Where’d you go, my fantasy? 

Did you fly back to your book?

Or rather you fell to your-


“He’s running!” 


Without hesitation, Anastaisa slipped seamlessly into position, her eyes instantly capturing the sprinting figure through the lens. 


“Got him.” 


A silent shot was heard, then a scream of agony and a dull thud. She smirked. 


“Target disengaged.”


“In my sights.”


As the tension dissipated at the successful operation, she felt her tone slip into colloquialism, eager to tease her upfront partner. 


“Why thank you dearest, most oblivious and especially pious Agent Aqua~” 


“For goodness sake, GET TO SCRUBBING A.A. Sheesh, always with the antics.”


“I doubt batteries can scrub.”


“GET. TO. IT.” 


Anastasia laughed while she packed her gear and left her post. 


It’s always so easy to rile her up. 


Finally arriving on solid ground, she approached the now broken-down door, her camera at the ready for further evidence of the target’s crime. 


Starting from the living room-which looked like an indoor hurricane swept through- she scoured through all the nooks and crannies for anything incriminating. 


Where oh where-ah. 


Her gaze fell on one of the wooden doors on the first floor, barely scratched compared to its shaggy companions almost as if it was a prized possession. 


Or to protect something you want hidden. 


Pressing her ear against the door whilst tracing its outline, there were no outright dangers. She pulled the trigger and shot the knob, kicking it off its hinges. If her mentor saw her now…however, it was well past midnight and Anastasia did not give a damn. 


Fortunately, there were no ticking weapons or traps set up. Rather, piles of tattered and clean sheets flooded the room, red twine and rough sketches pasted everywhere. 


Anastasia beamed like the sun, obsidian hair reflecting the surrounding candlelight as her camera flashed furiously.  


Bingo.






“Well done lass, this is sure to put him in the wringer. Though you could have avoided the sass.” 


“Why, whatever could you mean Ma’am?” 


Faded umber eyes rolled at the remark as a bird’s nest of midnight hair and scarred, patched skin sat across from Anastasia in the truck. This scowling pinnacle with a reputation surpassing her bullheadedness happened to be executive of Sector 43A in the P.I.A or- as known to Anastasia- her mentor and partner-in-spying, Executive Aquamarine. 


She always had a bare minimum amount of envy for her codename and style ever since she was brought in as a novice. 


They just had to stick me with a name like amnesia.


While abandoning the bittersweet thought, she revelled in the fact of being the only one to antagonise her and get off scot free. Anastasia never forgot to get that point across, even at present. 


“Come on Ma’am, me and sassiness are a packaged duo and I know you love my antics.” 


She snorted.


“That seems to be an overestimation. I could live without them.” 


Anastasia mimed as if being shot in the heart, gasping. 


“Betrayed! How could you say such blasphemy? Ack!”  


She nursed her knee, stifling any curses that could escape.


“That is what you get. This as well-” 


She rummaged through her leather backpack, pulling a smooth, large envelope from the mess. Anastasia’s eyes widened in slight surprise as she opened its seal.


“What a wonderful way for them to accept my resign-” 


She choked on her words as she became petrified at the document inside. 


To: Agent Anastasia 


Description of Mission: Protect & Preservation


Party Members: Solo


Location: Tellowania College 


Directive: 

Pass as an instructor in the institute, detect and eliminate ANY suspicious individuals. Tipoff was received about foreign delegates threatening breach of-


Anastasia ceased to read as horror crept into her tone. 


“W-what? They promised!” 


Her head shot up to face Aquamarine who met her incredulousness coolly. 


“Today was my last straw, remember?” 


The paper shook in her grasp as rage and fear fueled her thoughts, but she could not care less about formalities. Right now she was spiraling, and did not plan on stopping.


“I complete this mission, get my salary then quit. So why the hell am I getting a new mission?” 


Aquamarine sighed, her barriers breaking as regret flashed in her eyes. 


“I know what was promised to you. No-really I do. But this came from the Apostles themselves and it cannot be changed.” 


“Excuse me?! Absolutely not, I refuse to accept this.” 


Anastasia shouted, tossing the paper to the floor. Damn be the consequences, she could not do this again. She. Was. Done. 


Aquamarine sighed heavily. 


“They…predicted you would act like this. Here’s their response.” 


A small, white letter was brought to light. Its miniature scrawl only propelled her rage sky high. 



We’ll get straight to the point. 

The P.I.A is not a charity or a service. 

We are bound by our nation and you to us.  

For too long have your talents been shunned by the community AND by yourself.

Time heals all wounds but never the soul, so do not shatter yours. 

Unless our money is of no use to you anymore? 


Accept the mission. 

That is final. 

Failure will not be accepted this time nor a massacre.  


-The Apostles  


“They dare threaten me with him? After all we’ve done? After all he has done for their shoddy faces?” 


“Anastasia!” 


“I’ll say whatever bloody curses I can! How long do you expect me to be your murder dog? How long do you expect him to pay for their ignorance?!” She shrieked. 


“We do not regard you as such-”


“Ha! Oh really?” Her eyes dilated as her voice dropped like the temperature in the van.


“Then what of the ‘incident’ a decade ago? Ring a bell?” 


Aquamarine clamped shut, her eyes gazing upon her in submissive shock as tension filled the distance between them. For a while, the only sound was from Anastasia heaving for air as if she was a drowning woman. 


Might as well be one if I’m with them. 


“Anastasia…” 


Her eyes locked with her mentor’s.

Failure against pure acceptance.


“You were the best of us, and still are to this day. Of all the recruits-”


“Get to the point.” She snapped. 


“Officially, you’re an adept agent for this mission and it suits your needs.”


“Unofficially?” 


“All our optimal agents are out on classified expeditions, meaning you are the spare. Just how far do you expect denial to get you through? You’re a spy and sniper, get a grip.” 


“Oh I’m sorry, this is coming from who exactly? The woman who refused to step into the forefront for, how long was it again? I do not seem to remember.” 


The Executive’s eyebrow twitch, face growing red in seconds at Anastasia’s smug smirk. 


“Did I hit a nerve?”


Both women seethed, their defiance meeting at a stalemate. Afterall, like the mentor, like  student. None or the other dared to back down, yet this petty act was utterly futile in the end and they both knew it. Hours passed in seconds as the truck jerked into a halt, the trunk doors blown wide with agents restocking and cleaning the area. 


With a few stomps, Anastasia was left to her own devices and salted hurt. She almost missed the packaged Aquamarine tossed behind her back. 


“The decision is final. You’re going and if not,” Aquamarine glanced. “Then imagine what will happen to him.” 


Then she was gone, back to her enigmatic caverns once more. 


Cursing furiously, Anastasia tore open the envelope which revealed another set of irksome papers, make up kits,  and an ID card. She examined it carefully. It was smooth and white, with the photo the mirror image of Anastasia, light brown skin, same eyes and hair. Another card fell out, the cursive instinctively recognisable. 


While she read it, fondness and resolve burned bright once more. 


One last ride, for the golden days.

I do not expect you to return to base- nor should you venture here again (it's pathetic). 

Use this chance wisely.

Godspeed on your way, A.A and wherever you go next. 

You were always my best student.

-Aqua.


She started at the dim hall where the Executive and agents walked through, then back at her mission once more. Anastasia knew, the world of espionage and infiltration would always be a black mark on her back, but maybe...this might be her chance to cut loose. Her only chance.


One last time, just for you. 

Then I'm free.

Please, please hold on for me, brother.  




 













shri_raa
shriraa.sha

Creator

Hehe two more people to go!!!! 🥳

Thank you so much for reading!!! See you next Sunday for an interesting encounter with all our cast (they all are GREAT at communication...trust)

Comments (11)

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svl yisanliu
svl yisanliu

Top comment

Ugh poor Anastacia, but also, she's going on a mission. Things are about to get heavy

1

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The states Raschul, Endro and Neora now rest on a teetering peace after agreeing to send their most esteemed delegate students to Tellowania College as a form of treaty, but everyone knows, this peace is just a cautious masquerade, each dancer poised to kill. Evermore so now that this sliver of hope rests among five professors:

Raymond Gracis. The walking imposter and an illegal experiment, who never knew to be human, let alone himself.

Elena Despini. Roped in a conspiracy far beyond her perception in the game she's now part of, can her cowardice perhaps be her saviour this time?

Leila Ravens. Tainted, shattered and betrayed enough times to gain mastery over the art, this error won’t be last and she’ll make sure to chase it down.

Mahan Victaros. Two lives entwined as one, yet so distinct from the rest. They both clash in a fight to death, but both sides are too appeasing to let go.

Anwir Anansi. The ghost amongst the living. Even if the books mark him wrong, his yearning is an undying thirst to quench.

Whilst being at each other’s throats and running from their own haunting shadows would they be able to foster that hope into a reality? Or would their own agendas and loyalty unravel them from the inside, and stretch all those still innocent?

[UPDATES 2 CHAPTERS/2 WEEKS ON SUNDAY! :D]

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Chapter Seven: Mission-Final.

Chapter Seven: Mission-Final.

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