"Ready to roll?" Bell asked Sylva from his station in the control room.

"Yep, all set," Sylva nodded, fine-tuning the drone footage and adjusting the point-of-view camera worn by the RAA infiltrator posing as a regular army member from the Southern Coalition. These guys were disguised demons, with painted hair and trimmed horns, their appearances tweaked for the mission.

They were packing only basic gear: muskets, black-powder revolvers, and breech-loading rifles for this covert operation. Alongside those, they had silenced subsonic pistols, thin plate carriers, and ballistic armor concealed beneath their coalition’s uniforms. The RAA was teaming up with SPEAR and the 120th Air Assault Division for this gig.

The objective? Pin the blame on the coalition while drumming up a reason to liberate Saven from their grip. They aimed to sway the civilian population to favor the Federation over the coalition. With the groundwork they'd laid, it was gonna be a cakewalk.

"Section 1-2 Gamma, radio check, over," Bell transmitted.

"Radio check's good, Overlord. Heading to checkpoint Alpha, 1-2G out," Aya responded crisply.

=Section 1-2 Gamma - Aya Hoshino - Joker=

Aya and five others from the RAA strolled down the bustling streets of Saven, earning hostile glares from the elves they passed. Aya wasn't surprised; you couldn't expect a warm welcome from those who saw you as their oppressors. But she had a mission: to take out Falael and pin the blame on the coalition.

Whether it looked like friendly fire or a power grab, as long as it sparked war or convinced the people of Saven to ask for Federation support, the mission was a success. Though Aya suspected the real motive was either Hussar or Hanna feeling betrayed, with Bell itching for a personal vendetta against that elf for bringing trouble to Saven.

"Are those slaves?" Wood asked, nodding towards a group of elves being herded onto a slave ship at the port.

"Pretty clear, huh?" Aya replied, her gaze fixed on the grim scene. She had to resist the urge to intervene; blowing their cover wasn't an option.

"No limits to the depravity, I guess," Wood remarked, watching as the slaves were loaded onto the ship one by one.

"Ever wonder why Falael lets this happen?" Aya mused.

"Colonial powers often collaborate with local authorities to maintain control, turning a blind eye to atrocities," Wood explained. "Or maybe he's dead. That's why we're here, to find out."

As dusk enveloped the city, Aya's team, led by her, edged closer to their target, blending into the chaotic streets of Saven. They couldn't help but wonder what atrocities had unfolded here. Meanwhile, other soldiers patrolled, seemingly indifferent to the abuse suffered by the elves. Were humans really this racist?

Using a discreet radio, Aya reported their progress, "Overlord, 1-2 Gamma, approaching checkpoint Bravo. All clear so far, over."

"1-2 Gamma, copy that. Keep us posted, over."

"1-2 Gamma out."

They were just five hundred meters from the town hall now. The streets of Saven grew more crowded as they approached, the town hall standing tall as the heart of the city's administrative functions and, tonight, the focal point of their operation. Inside, the town hall buzzed with activity, but noticeably absent were any demons, replaced by an influx of humans.

As they neared the gates of the town hall, a group of soldiers halted their progress.

"Halt! State your business," a soldier demanded, blocking their path.

"We're here to deliver a message from Captain Sokol," a male POO disguised as a coalition captain replied confidently, brandishing a letter stamped with official insignia, swiped from a ship three days prior.

The soldier eyed them suspiciously, scrutinizing the "captain" before glancing at the letter. The tension hung heavy in the air, every second crucial to their mission's success. With practiced ease, the "captain" presented the letter, his demeanor betraying no hint of deception.

After a tense moment, the soldier nodded, stepping aside to let them pass. "Proceed," he grunted, motioning for them to enter the town hall grounds. Aya and her team exchanged quick, relieved glances as they moved forward, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the cobblestone path leading to the main building.

Pushing open the large door, they found the town hall transformed into a bustling command center, filled with high-ranking officers but devoid of any elves, despite Falael's supposed command of the town according to Federation intelligence.

Aya's team seamlessly blended into the busy scene, slipping unnoticed among the soldiers and aides. Their target: Falael's room. Moving with caution, they made their way through the corridors, endeavoring to appear inconspicuous. Aya couldn't shake the feeling that Falael might have been dead for some time, his continued existence serving no purpose. Yet, she knew they could only confirm it by seeing for themselves.

"Let's proceed, shall we?" Wood suggested, positioning the group to block the view of the door from any passing guards. Aya gripped her silenced Glock tightly as she slowly pushed open the door. The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, and the stench of death assaulted their senses. Aya instinctively covered her nose as she entered.

Closing the door behind them, Aya switched on her flashlight to illuminate the room. There sat Falael, motionless in his chair, with an untouched glass of whiskey resting on his table. Aya approached cautiously, scanning the area for clues.

Near the chair, a spilled glass lay on the ground, accompanied by a letter and quill on the table. Aya read the contents of the letter: an elf's resignation as mayor of the town. It seemed odd—why would he resort to suicide over a resignation?

"What do you make of this?" Wood inquired, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Aya pondered the scene before her. The untouched glass of whiskey and the absence of struggle suggested that this was no ordinary suicide. The scent of decay indicated that the body had been here for some time, further complicating matters. It appeared to be a carefully orchestrated poisoning, designed to deceive.

As Aya mulled over the situation, she realized that the key was not who committed the act, but why. This was a scene crafted with precision, each detail serving a purpose.

"Take a look at this," Aya beckoned to Wood, indicating the inconsistencies. "If this were a suicide, where's the weapon? And if it was poison, where's the bottle? Nobody poisons themselves with a single glass of whiskey and then makes it vanish. And what about the two glasses? How do you explain that?"

Wood scratched his head, at a loss for an explanation. "Keep going, because I'm stumped."

Aya's mind raced as she analyzed the evidence before her. The scene was carefully crafted, yet there were intentional clues hinting at foul play. "This just doesn't make sense," she muttered to herself. "If Falael was keeping the elves in check, removing him would only invite chaos. Why would someone want that unless...?"

"Without Falael, the elves lose their leader, making it easier for the coalition to push their agenda unopposed," Wood interjected, realization dawning on him. "So, you're suggesting the coalition orchestrated this? Killed one of their own to tighten their grip? Honestly, that seems far-fetched."

"Agreed, but it reminds me of something a soldier once said back in the States," Aya replied with a grin.

"And what's that?"

"We're so lucky they're so damn stupid," Aya chuckled.

Wood couldn't help but crack a smile at Aya's remark, the tension momentarily eased. "Fair point. But if not stupidity, then what? There's more to this than meets the eye."

Aya nodded, her focus sharpening. "Whoever did this wanted a specific reaction. Maybe not just to tighten control, but to justify drastic measures under the pretense of restoring order. Or perhaps to tarnish someone's reputation, create a martyr, or provide an excuse for military intervention." She paused, then smirked. "Nah, I’m just fucking with you, ma'am. Honestly, I have no idea."

"You cheeky bitch," Wood chuckled, then scanned the room again, considering their next move. "In the meantime?"

"We document everything. Collect samples of the whiskey, the glass—anything that could be analyzed for poison or fingerprints. We need solid evidence. Regardless, Bell will have plenty of justification for invading Saven. The atrocities committed here—the rapes, the slavery, the destruction—it's all on record."

"Alright, let's exfil," Wood agreed, and they began to make their way out.

With swift precision, Aya snapped photos of Falael's lifeless form from various angles using her phone. Meanwhile, Wood carefully swabbed Falael's mouth and collected samples from both the spilled and untouched glasses of whiskey, assisting Aya in documenting the crime scene.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from outside the building and their room.

"Section team, Overlord here. Heads up. Civilians are approaching the town hall armed with makeshift weapons and torches. Looks like a protest or demonstration forming outside. You need to find an alternate exit, ASAP. Overlord out," the radio crackled.

Aya peered out the window, confirming the town hall's encirclement by an angry mob, hemmed in by soldiers guarding the senior officers. It seemed the people had finally risen against their oppressors.

But there was another issue brewing just outside their door.

"We've got a situation," Wood announced grimly as she glanced outside.

"What is it?" Aya asked, tense.

"A suspicious guard. We need to handle him swiftly," Wood replied.

"Roger," Aya nodded, ready for action.