Vivienne snapped the file shut and tossed it aside with a flick of her wrist, her face a mask of composure that belied the storm brewing within.

Thomas maneuvered the car with practiced ease while Anna glanced back uneasily and asked, "Ms. Vivienne, what do you make of the information in that file?"

A chill flickered in Vivienne's eyes. "What do you think?"

Anna was taken aback, suddenly feeling like she had touched a nerve.

Percival wrapped an arm around Vivienne, his touch as comforting as a warm blanket on a cold night. "Easy, no need to get all worked up."

Vivienne remained silent, her gaze lowered, thoughts hidden behind a veil of introspection.

The reach of GTO had become far too invasive.

And the real mole had burrowed so deep that they were untouchable.

This person was not just a threat to the safety of the average Joe; they were toying with national security.

An unsettling intuition gripped Vivienne; her mother's death might not be solely tied to GTO's head honcho. Perhaps the final blow, the ultimate betrayal, was orchestrated by the Vanguard Agency itself.

As she remained lost in thought, Percival's voice, honeyed with affection, broke through, "How about I take you out for a grand feast?"

Her train of thought was derailed by his suggestion, and Vivienne considered his offer seriously before agreeing. "Alright, let's go." After dinner, Percival dropped Vivienne off at her place.

He watched her enter her home before sliding back into the car. "Head to HQ," he instructed Thomas.

Thomas did not question it; it was time to return to headquarters to sort things out.

Back in her room, Vivienne checked her phone and saw a cryptic text from an unknown sender. [It's not him.]

At headquarters, Leopold and Soren stood guard outside the deputy director's office, having dispatched all other agents.

As the only two captains left on duty, their expressions were far from relaxed.

Now donned in the crisp uniform of the Vanguard Agency, Percival entered the headquarters and waved at Leopold and Soren.

The two captains exchanged glances, then stepped away, joining Thomas to ensure no one else could enter.

Percival paused at the office door before knocking.

Inside, Micah removed his reading glasses and called out, "Come in."

Percival entered, his face stoic as he faced Micah without a word.

Micah glanced up briefly. "You're here?"

His tone was even, betraying no emotion.

"Thanks for waiting," Percival said, his deep voice carrying an undercurrent of solemnity.

Micah let out a chuckle. "You're getting bold, detaining me like this."

Percival took a seat opposite Micah, his lips parting slightly. "It's more like protective custody."

"Get on with it then, ask away," Micah said, leisurely sipping his coffee.

Percival leaned back, his long legs crossed, fingers rhythmically tapping on his knee. "What are you investigating?"

Micah's hand paused, eyes shrouded in steam betraying a flicker of surprise.

Percival's fingers ceased their tapping, his gaze piercing. "You brought me into the Vanguard Agency, trained me under my mentor, and watched me rise through the ranks. Don't you trust me, boss?" Moved by the question, Micah remained silent.

Percival's eyes held the same respect as they always had, despite his icy demeanor, which was not directed at Micah but at the real traitor.

At first, both he and Vivienne had suspected Micah. After all, Micah was Percival's direct superior, the one who could most easily alter the outcome of any operation.

But over time, he realized that Micah seemed to be acting deliberately and was always trying to communicate with his superiors.

This changed Percival's view of him.

The moment that fully convinced him and Vivienne of Micah's loyalty was when Percival was trapped in a mine. If Micah had hesitated even slightly or tried to obstruct the rescue, Percival would not have been saved so swiftly.

Micah finally laughed, put down his coffee, and nodded with satisfaction. "Good, the many times I took the blame for you weren't in vain."

He had deescalated things countless times when Percival disobeyed orders, took too big of a risk to complete the mission, and caused trouble, among other things. The only punishment he ever gave Percival was to ask him to write a reflection letter.

Percival finally allowed a slight smile to crack his stern facade, sliding a file across to Micah. "The Morning Glory has been leaked. The authorization came from you."

Micah was taken aback. "I've never signed this document."

He recalled receiving a classified document the night before. It seemed unimportant, merely requiring his signature.

But unbeknownst to him, his signature was transferred to approve the usage of "Morning Glory."

The document had come from headquarters, beyond his and Percival's clearance level to investigate the sender.

"It seems someone wants me to take the fall. I'm becoming quite the scapegoat," Micah said with a carefree laugh, well aware of the murky depths within headquarters.

Percival's gaze darkened. If he had not contained Micah in time, leading the higher-ups to believe that Rivenwood's own had detained him, Micah could have been sent to a military tribunal without a chance to defend himself.

Micah studied Percival's stern face. "You did the right thing, keeping me under watch. It will make those above us lower their guard."

Percival looked up. "Tell me the truth."

Micah let out a heavy sigh, his hand resting on his leg. "All these years, there's been only one thing I've been investigating the truth behind the death of your mentor, my partner Lark." Percival's eyes flashed. "You also believe my mentor's death wasn't an accident!"

Micah nodded, a grave expression settling on his features. "Exactly. Lark was one of the toughest and most formidable agents we had. The idea that she took her own life? That's a pill too bitter to swallow. No, I'm convinced she was framed."

"Someone in our HQ had it out for my mentor," Percival said, his fists clenched tight, anger flickering in his eyes.

"Right. And whoever did this is sitting pretty high up the food chain. It's not someone we can just stumble upon. It's been a decade, and I've only uncovered the tip of the iceberg. Just when I thought I was getting closer, I found myself framed and in deep trouble."

Micah let out a sardonic chuckle. After Karen's death, he had tirelessly submitted reports to the higher-ups, demanding an in-depth investigation into the cause of her death and the related mission failure. But every single request had been a dead end, all rejected on the grounds of insufficient evidence.

That was when Micah knew that if he wanted to unearth the truth, he would have to penetrate the very heart of power.

So, for the past decade, he had been climbing the ranks, steadily making his way up. His body was marked by injuries, preventing him from front-line duties and making his ascent even more challenging than Percival's.

But perseverance pays off. He had finally made it to the position of Deputy Director.

The Director was often out on field assignments, leaving Micah to call the shots at Rivenwood headquarters.

Yet, even with such authority, he could still not achieve the results he sought.

The agency was too corrupt, too murky.

Thankfully, he now had Percival and Karen's daughter, Vivienne, by his side. Their combined efforts promised a much brighter future than Micah's solitary struggle.

The first time he laid eyes on Vivienne, Micah felt as though Karen had left behind a treasure in this world.

A treasure that one day would expose the darkness of the agency and restore Karen's good name.

Pulling open a drawer, Micah retrieved a file. "Percival, this appeared in my office out of the blue on the day you were rescued from that mine. Take a look."

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