"He's gonna die." Albert stood up from his seat, watching on the big screen as Dylan, his best friend, raced to his death. As members of The Secret Agency, they had the right to deal with a problem as they saw fit. Howevet, this wasn't always a good thing as many naiive young boys and girls ended up risking their lives. This was due to lack of experience and knowledge, among other things. Nevertheless, a rule had been set; once someone has made a decision, no agent should act against it. This was to nurture a sense of trust and responsibility within the agency. Albert watched as Dylan became one of those naiive young children. He held his breath as Dylan entered the heavily guarded fort of the underground king. He froze as Dylan was immediately shot down. Ten archers, eight snipers, and four pistols. They all aimed for him and they all reached their target. Poor Dylan lay in the enemy's threshold, with 22 holes littering his 22-year-old body.

"He's dead."