“In the field, you are not to allow normal people to know of the Dirige’s existence,” her voice grew small, but angry; she wasn’t kidding around and she seemed positively enraged at Lilyia questioning the mission. “A local agent who plays the part of a farmer or something like that cannot ask questions like: ‘hey, what direction did all of our dead start marching off to?’ without it looking weird or raising suspicions or causing their family concern. We live a double life,” her eyes narrowed at Lilyia, “and we never bring normal people into it without consequences.”

Circe stopped speaking, her brow furrowed, and she visibly displayed confusion all over her face; she never interrupted Lilyia, however. She let the woman speak, but, as she did so, Circe also made it a point to start shuffling through ‘Worldly Details’ and ‘Terran Discrepancies’, smiling to herself as she continued listening to Lilyia speak.

“No,” Circe’s voice finally pounced into the conversation immediately following Lilyia’s … back-story, as the case appeared. “You’re confused; delusional, maybe.”

There was not an ounce of kindness in Circe’s voice and nor did she display the typical feel-good vibe or trust that one would assume to follow such a revelation from their partner; in fact, Circe had a distinctive lack of all such feelings.

Three pieces of paper were removed from between the two files, the two manila folders dealing with the Real World’s records and the occasional discrepancies found within them.

“You’re twenty-seven,” Circe reaffirmed; practically recalling the entirety of the older woman’s dossier, it hadn’t much information, but it did list her given age and name. “Hetzer was established in MY country, Greoul, five years ago, permission given from the reigning monarchy, and financed by a third-party merchant company, Oarland and Leg’s. Three years ago, the population doubled, as Tau told both of us during the mission, and the reason why this was so odd--why we were so shocked--was because of the town’s young age,” this would be where the young woman would smile victoriously, but no such smile was had; she was just angry. “Unless you really did lie about your age, Lilyia Daae, there is no possible way you were sixteen and in Hetzer, that or you’re now a time wizard, or something.”

Circe sighed, “and if you’re seriously trying to get me to believe someone as clueless as you are about Dirige life was in-training ten years ago, when my parents were active agents, and nobody--not even the superiors--have recognized you, your name, or anything about you… I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to report you and motion to have you expelled from the agency.”

Perhaps not entirely the reaction Lilyia was expecting, but Circe was not joking around; she stood up and stuffed her hands in her pockets, the files were strewn about the floor, now, and she paid no attention to the boxes containing the larger portion of what she had brought. Inescapable truth? No, more like rookie seeking attention.

“You are not a super recruit,” her voice came out as a growl, an honest-to-god growl, and rage begin to churn in the deepest, darkest pit of her soul. “You are a rookie and I don’t have time for any of this; I have a mission."

She rolled her eyes and made to turn towards the door.

“It’s not enough that you have no grasp for Seele Übertritt and somehow, mysteriously transport souls to Purgatory, Heaven, and Hell with your freakin’ roses, but now you spit on all the other agents and the organization with your… I don’t even know,” she gave up and walked towards the door, opening it, and hovering just in the frame: “If you’re not gone when I return,” she continued, voice calm, but cold. “ … Just be gone, Lilyia. You're not cut out for this.”

And she left; who would know if she ever saw Circe Brandt again?