Banksy was on edge.

It wasn't completely unusual for him to feel a certain amount of apprehension before a job, considering the fact that getting caught often led to a rather savage beating. And that was if his captors were feeling generous. Considering these were Sons, he doubted very much that would be the case. However, this feeling of unease was brought on by something else and after a few minutes of walking in the quickly fading light of day, Azalea took notice.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, glancing to her side. "You haven't said a word since we left the hotel."

"It's nothing."

"It is obviously not nothing," Azalea said as she came to a stop. Banksy continued walking until she reached out and caught him lightly by the arm. He allowed himself to come to a halt.

Azalea stepped in front of him. "I think I know. You're upset with me, aren't you?"

"I'm not upset with you," Banksy said quietly.

"Yes, you are. You must be. After what happened I know that it must have been painful. I should have said something before I left. It was wrong to leave it… to leave us like that."

"You think?" Banksy snapped before regaining his composure. "That isn't what's bothering me. Not right now, at least."

"Then what is it?"

"It's you," Banksy said as he gestured at Azalea. "It's everything about you. How you talk, how you move, how you're dressed."

Azalea's eyebrows went up. "What's wrong with the way I am dressed?"

"Nothing." Banksy shook his head. "You look... you look really nice."

She smiled warmly. "You're too kind."

"But you shouldn't," Banksy said. A deep frown was set in his face. "You told me you worked for Origin. But if you worked in their lab, you wouldn't be dressed like this. At least, not if you were going to sneak me in. You're dressed like someone who owns the lab."

Azalea's shoulders slumped and she let out a soft, sad laugh. "Oh Banksy, you are still clever as always, aren't you?"

"Maybe not as clever as I thought," Banksy replied. "But still, I'm not stupid, Azalea. I still want to help you, but you have to tell me the truth. This is the only chance I'm going to give you. Otherwise I walk."

"I see." Azalea ran a hand through her hair and took in a deep breath. "It's true, I wasn't being completely honest when I said I worked for Origin. In truth, I have a personal relationship with Sani."

"Personal relationship?"

"Yes, he is my fiancé."

"Fiancé," Banksy repeated dully. He had been prepared for many answers. He had gone through hours of pre-thought out conversation on the train ride over, just waiting for a chance to talk to Azalea alone, away from Romeo. However, in all of his possible and prepared scenarios, he had not ever once thought of this possibility.

Azalea lifted a finger to her cheek. "Well, I suppose I should say he was. I have no doubt once he finds out what I have done he will cancel our engagement immediately. While I knew he wasn't the most honest of men when we began our courtship, I had no idea the type of monster he would turn out to be. Needless to say, even if he doesn't break our engagement, I have no plans to be tied down to such a horrible and brutish man."

"Fiancé," Banksy said. "You were going to marry Harold Sani."

"Yes, I was. A mistake, I admit."

"And now you want to steal from him."

"I do."

Banksy reached up and rubbed at his temples like he had seen Cross do countless times before. He felt no sense of relaxation and his hand dropped down to his necklace, trying to find some sense of solace.

"You realize the kind of trouble this can bring, right? The Sons, they are more dangerous than you know."

"It doesn't matter. I can't let them do this without trying something, anything. I will not let that happen."

"They'll come after you. The Sons won't forget." Banksy warned.

"Don't worry. I know how to disappear." Azalea smiled at him, but it was tinged with sadness. "I know I have no right to ask you to help me after how I hurt you, but please Banksy. If not for me, than for everyone who might suffer if I fail… If we fail."

Banksy did not answer for a long time, his fingers playing endlessly over his rings, feeling the vestiges of magic coursing through the metal. Azalea stared at him with hopeful eyes, silently waiting for his answer.

"Alright," Banksy finally said. "Let's go."

"Thank you," Azalea whispered as her shoulders slumped in relief. "Thank you Banksy."

"But I need you to tell me one last thing," Banksy said as his fingers tightened around his necklace. "You and me. I know… I just know, okay. So we don't need to… I just need you to tell me," Banksy swallowed hard. "Did you mean any of it? Or was it all just part of the game?"

Without hesitation Azalea reached out and cupped his cheek. "Oh Banksy, I swear. I swear I've always cared about you. When this is all over, I promise we can sit down and I'll explain everything. Just the two of us, alright?"

Banksy hesitated before slowly nodding.

Azalea smiled and he allowed her to lead him to their destination. As they approached the large building, he checked his pocket watch. Their little chat had put them a few minutes behind schedule, but he doubted it would make all that much difference.

Azalea had given them all the pertinent information in the hotel room before they had left. It was a simple enough plan, despite the high level of risk involved. Azalea would get Banksy into the research and development building. From there, Banksy would need to disengage a few locked doors that Azalea was unable to get the keys to, and finally crack the safe containing both the magical boosters and poison compounds that Sani had created. If everything went well, it would be over in less than an hour. Romeo would wait behind and prepare to create a distraction, or intervene if Banksy failed and somehow set off the alarms and draw the attention of the guards.

Romeo had kindly offered to simply blow up the safe, he assured everyone in the room it would be much faster than cracking it, but he was vehemently rebuffed. After a bit of pouting, he had begrudgingly agreed to the plan as well.

So far, everything was going according to plan. Upon reaching the building, Azalea had entered through the front door with ease by way of a key that she had procured sometime in the past. Banksy chose not to ask where, or how, she had gotten it. It was a wise choice, as he would not have cared for the answer. Banksy had quickly picked the first locked door they had come across and they were well on their way to the laboratory.

"Oh dear," Azalea stopped suddenly, reaching back and placing her hand on Banksy's chest just as they were about to turn a corner.

"What?" Banksy tilted his head to look but Azalea pushed him back a step.

"It would seem…" Azalea frowned. "Harold has added security since the last time I was here."

"What?"

"There are two men guarding that door. It leads to the laboratory."

"Is there another way in?"

"No, the laboratory only has one exit and one entrance. We're going to have to get passed them."

Banksy swallowed hard. "Are they armed?"

"Yes. And if Harold hired them to guard this area, they will be well trained."

"Should I go get Romeo?" Banksy almost sighed out the words. He hated to admit it, but he was a terrible fighter. He couldn't handle a sword to save his life and a bow was even worse. To the amusement of everyone at the guild he had once managed to shoot himself in the foot with an arrow. While he could take a considerable amount of abuse in a fistfight, he never seemed to be able to return it with much consistency. For this reason, he preferred to solve things with his mind instead of his fists, but in his line of work it didn't always work out that way.

"No, I think I have a better idea," Azalea said before giving him a sharp push back and turning the corner. Banksy reached out for her, but she was already too far away. Stuck, he peeked around the corner and held his breath as Azalea sauntered towards the guards.

"Hello boys," Azalea called out, the words came out in flawless Dumi. "I trust you know who I am?"

The guard on the left nodded. "Yes, of course, Ma'am."

"Good." Azalea smiled as she stopped in front of them. "Harold has sent me to retrieve a very important document. If you would please accompany me, I would be most gracious."

The guards exchanged a long glance before one answered her. "I'm sorry ma'am, but we are not allowed to let anyone pass after hours. Mr. Sani's orders. If you would like, I could send a messenger to Sani to get his approval first."

Azalea's smile never wavered. "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary."

The guard exchanged another glance with his partner, but neither man was able to understand Azalea. "Ma'am?"

Those were the last words the guard managed to utter before Azalea drew a long needle hidden in the waist of her dress and slid it into his neck. The guards eyes widened in surprise as his body went completely rigid and he teetered before falling to the side without a sound. His partner let out a yelp and moved to draw his sword but Azalea grabbed him by the wrist and pivoted, twisting the guard's arm harshly. A bone snapped and he dropped to his knees in agony. Without missing a beat, Azalea wrapped her thin arms around his throat like a snake. In another moment he was on the ground beside his partner, unconscious and breathing gently.

"Banksy!" Azalea called out sweetly as she ran a hand through her hair. "You can come out now."

From his hiding spot Banksy nodded dumbly but it took him a few second to actually move. Cautiously he approached, gingerly stepping over the two guards, and stopped beside her. She smiled at him. It was a smile he did not return.

"Oh, don’t mind this, please." Azalea's smile turned sheepish as she looked down at the unconscious guards. "I spend much of my time traveling alone. It would be foolish of me not to learn how to take care of myself, don't you think?"

Banksy couldn't find fault in that logic, but it didn't make him feel much better about what he just witnessed. "Azalea, you just… you…"

"I didn't kill them," Azalea said quickly. "I promise they are just unconscious. I detest killing, and violence in general. That's exactly why we are here. To stop Sani from hurting hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people." Banksy nodded, but was clearly still troubled. "I know you probably want to ask me many things, Banksy. I will explain them in time, but we must hurry. "

"Yeah… yeah." Banksy shook his head and turned to the door. "I'll get this open then."

It took him only seconds to get through and they were into the lab. Azalea had obviously been here quite often as she quickly led Banksy through the large laboratory without so much as a glance around. Banksy was unable to do the same.

The laboratory was huge, all stainless steel and glass. Liquids of every shade of the rainbow hung suspended in tubes and various petals, leafs, and plants were neatly portioned in small jars alongside crystals of every color and shape. Despite this, the room smelled overwhelmingly of ammonia and bleach. Almost like a hospital Banksy had once visited in the Capital. The smell made him sick to his stomach and he quickened his pace, keeping on the heels of Azalea as she led him through a hallway and into a final room.

"This is it," Azalea said. She stepped to the side and allowed Banksy a view at the vault.

"Oh," Banksy said as he stared at the door. The very large door. The very large door scribbled with all manner of protective runes, many of which he recognized but quite a few he did not. He felt his pulse start to quicken and his hand reached up to take off his necklace, already sliding off rings in preparation.

"Can you do it?" Azalea said quietly as Banksy slowly ran a finger along the center of the vault's door. The air in the room seemed to waver and Banksy pulled his hand away.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe," Banksy repeated. "This thing is… it's amazing. It's a work of art. It's a bit sad, actually."

"What is?" Azalea cocked her head and looked at the vault.

"They are long dead," Banksy sighed as he took a step to the left, then a step to the right, getting different angles on the door. "Whoever made this…."

"How do you know?"

Banksy stepped forward and put his ear to the door. "This is old magic, from Old Time. It was probably stored away for a long time before Sani had it installed. Perfect cover for him. Sons say they hate magic then use it. Good marriage material there."

"Could it be you're jealous, Baknsy?" Azalea grinned as Banksy tapped two rings against the door. One of the runes flared white and then slowly faded away.

Banksy glanced at her and attempted a glare, but it was offset but the subtle blush that marred his cheeks. Scowling, he turned his attention back to the safe and whispered a few words while holding a ring against the door.

Another Rune flashed in response and disappeared.

"This… this might take a while," Banksy grunted. He stepped away from the door and shook out his hands. "If I go too fast, I could trigger one of the defensive spells."

"What would that do?"

"Maybe set off an alarm." Banksy shrugged. "Maybe suck all the oxygen out of the building. Or let out a poisonous gas. Or shoot out a fireball and burn everyone in this room to ash."

"I doubt even Sani would do something so barbaric."

Banksy held up his hand, wiggling what was left of his missing finger. "Trust me. People care far more about their valuables than the life of the thief who is trying to take them."

Azalea started to respond when Banksy suddenly turned around and stared down the empty hallway. "Shit."

"What?" Azalea peered down the hallway but saw nothing. "What's wrong?"

"Wait for it," Banksy grimaced as thundering footsteps slowly became audible and a very bloodied Romeo appeared in the hallway. He gave Azalea a cheery smile and hobbled himself towards them, one of his legs obviously broken as he dragged it behind.

"So, we might have a problem," Romeo said as he leaned against the wall. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phoenix stone, or the broken remains of what was once a phoenix stone. "Sorry about the late warning. Group of them jumped me. Managed to get away, mostly."

"What happened?" Azalea reached out a hand to steady Romeo as he started to slide down the wall. "Who attacked you?"

"So, funny story there. You see, I'm pretty sure Sani knows we are here," Romeo rolled his head back towards the hallway. "Actually it's like, I'm almost completely positive he knows."

"Why's that?" Banksy asked, turning towards the vault and resuming his work at a much faster pace.

"Because, he's right there," Romeo coughed. The words came out with a healthy amount of blood and he slumped down to the floor.