(As night falls on a deserted excavation site in a canyon, which has been dug all the way to the underground, the Sparks arrive with their car at the exchange point. The group get out of their car and approach the mysterious masked man, who has his hands behind his back as he patiently waits for them with a group of masked soldiers.)

  Mistrick: (muttering) God, you look even more stupidly mysterious in person.

  Stone: (ignoring her, to the masked individual, firmly) There we are. (looking around) What is this place?

  ???: Just an excavation site. It’s for my own plans. In any case, I think I should let you in on what to expect.

  Jackpot: (crossing his arms) Do please tell.

  ???: (glancing below at the open pit) If a certain scenario occurs, those two will come here in an attempt to stop me. You’ll be waiting below to intercept when the time comes. My soldiers and I will not make our presence known unless absolutely necessary. We’ll be waiting for you to get the job done. If you can’t capture the Beacon, at least hold her off until I get my business done. Don’t fail me again. I’m known to be relatively patient, but that patience will eventually run out.

  Stone: Understood, sir.

  Boltix: (baffled) So you just brought us here based on mere speculation? What if they never show up?

  ???: (firmly) They will show up. Either as opponents… or as captives.

  (Meanwhile, back at Reno night, the Grand Mirage casino makes way for multiple, well-dressed guests, men in suits and women in elegant dresses. They interact together in the bustling area, and Sylvia notices that at her office while glancing at blurry pictures of Flare and Focus.)

  Sylvia: (thinking to herself) Those two might come after me. Aegis certainly has some intel on my activity, and I must assume that their operator does as well. (faintly smirking) In any case, I’m ready. If it comes to this, I will capture them myself and probably secure a higher share of the bounty. Even if I get captured instead, I know how to bail myself out… and secure the bounty regardless. Right now, I might as well enjoy the night.

  (She puts those pictures back into her drawer and heads down the stairs and into the ground floor in her stylish blue blouse to welcome the guests. Two guards stand outside at the entrance, and Flare and Focus glance at the scene from afar.)

  Flare: Casino, huh? That sounds so Reno.

  Focus: That’s not just any casino. That’s the Grand Mirage. The most popular casino in Reno. You’ll find everyone with wealth, power, and high social status inside, all here to have some entertainment. (deadpan) That’s why you don’t see minors roaming around at Reno nights.

  Flare: (raising an eyebrow) But why should we care? What’s it got to do with anything?

  Focus: The person who runs this casino… is also — according to Aegis’s intel — the Sparks’s handler in the criminal underworld. Sylvia Anderson. Under the grid, she provides assignments for the Sparks and offers their services to whoever can pay the hefty bounty for it. If anyone knows who hired the Sparks to go after us, it would be her. That individual must have surely contacted her beforehand. She might have lots of other intel as well that can come in handy.

  Flare: (grinning) So the plan is to burn down the building, capture her, and beat the info out of her! Like the sound of it!

  Focus: (blankly) That’s… almost similar to the plan I was gonna lay out. Surprisingly enough.

  Flare: (excitedly) Then let’s do it! YOLO!

  (Flare lights up her palms with fire with an excited smirk, but just as she was going to dash off and wreak fiery havoc, Focus grabs her by the back of her shirt and holds her down with an unamused expression as she keeps on trying to run off. He even lifts her up and sets her down behind him as she crosses her arms with an annoyed expression.)

  Focus: (unamused) Are spur-of-the-moment acts of complete recklessness inherently associated with fire powers, or is that just a “you” thing?

  Flare: (annoyed) Hey, you said that we’ll burn the whole place down!

  Focus: (deadpan) Technically, you said it, and I only stated that this is similar to what we’re going to do. It’s not my fault you keep skydiving into conclusions. Now how about you settle down and hear me out?

  Flare: (pouting) Go ahead.

  Focus: (firmly, glancing at the entrance) First, we need to get into the casino. However, that alone will be challenging. I don’t suppose any of us are over the age of eighteen. We can’t even show otherwise. We need a valid disguise, something that could help us get inside. (turning to Flare) Any ideas?

  Flare: I have like… four.

  Focus: (deadpan) Anything that doesn’t involve setting off a fire alarm?

  Flare: (blankly) Okay, I’ve got nothing.

  (Focus sighs deeply then crosses his arms, attempting to think of something, but then he and Flare glance at each other, apparently thinking of the same thing. After a while, they come back, Focus sitting at Flare’s shoulders and putting on an unbelievably large robe on the two of them, which effectively covers Flare. Focus also has a fake beard on, and the way it looks on the outside, the disguise is plainly awkward, with Flare struggling to walk normally. Seeing that this wouldn’t work, Focus throws away the fake beard and the robe then gets off Flare’s shoulder, setting foot on the ground as Flare is finally able to set her back straight.)

  Focus: (unamused) Okay, this isn’t gonna work. Forget about being underage, we’d appear even less believable looking like an eight-foot behemoth from Middle Earth.

  Flare: That was your idea.

  Focus: (blankly) Did I say otherwise? That was self-deprecation.

  Flare: Wait, what if I’m on top?

  Focus: (unamused) Aside from the fact that we’d still look like an eight-foot behemoth from Middle Earth, your features aren’t developed enough to display maturity.

  Flare: (flustered) Whaddaya mean by that?!

  Focus: (deadpan) I was talking about your jawline. It should be more angular at maturity. What else did you think I was talking about?

  Flare: (blankly) Um… nevermind. Just… nevermind. So… uh… how will we get in now?

  Focus: (sighing deeply) I’ll handle this.

  (Focus so boldly and daringly approaches the entrance and the two guards standing in front of it, with Flare following him in bafflement. The guards see him approaching with an unbothered expression, his hands on his pockets, and they’re immediately alerted by this.)

  Guard 1A: (yelling at Focus) Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!

  Focus: (blankly) What everyone else is doing at this time of the day. Just about to get in and waste my time gambling irresponsibly.

  Guard 1B: (gritting his teeth) Oh, yeah?! Back off, kid! This is grownup stuff going on inside!

  Focus: (raising an eyebrow) Do I not look like a grownup?

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Guard 1A: (glancing at him from up the down) You? Really? Heh, you look closer to twelve than eighteen. You’re not even dressed for the occasion. Why should I let you in?

  Flare: (muttering) Um… that isn’t going too well.

  Focus: (muttering) Hush now. Lemme cook. (glaring at the guards) Okay, I’m giving you two the option to either believe that I’m over eighteen… or I prove it to you. Both choices will have consequences, but they’ll heavily vary in severity, trajectory, and recovery duration.

  Guard 1A: (glaring at him, mockingly) You’ve got some spunk kid, I’ll give you that. What if I choose the latter?

  (Focus narrows his eyes at him then lands a quick yet powerful punch at his gut, sending him skidding back. The guard angrily swings his fist at him for a punch, but Focus doesn’t even flinch, grabbing his fist and twisting it, causing him to wince in pain. He attempts to swing his other fist at Focus, but he grabs it and twists it as well, doing it so painfully that the guard is forced to his knees. The other guard attempts to land a punch at Focus, but Flare steps in the way and kicks him in the chin with a smirk, sending him skidding back. He pulls out his communicator to call for backup, but Flare quickly grabs it and tosses it away, leaving Focus to handle the other guard.)

  Focus: (unbothered) So… what did we learn?

  Guard 1A: (wincing in pain) That when… someone says that they’re eighteen, I should… believe them?

  Focus: And?

  Guard 1A: And… and dress codes are complete hogwash?

  Focus: Attaboy.

  (Focus lets go of the guard’s fists then kicks him in the face, sending him falling on his back, then he and Flare head for the entrance, the guards unwilling to stop them this time. Focus calmly heads inside, and he and Flare find themselves inside the bustling Grand Mirage casino. Flare glances around in awe at the lavish interior of the casino, with multiple guests conversing with one another and making their way to all sorts of games. However, Focus rolls his eyes at the way she so calmly walks and takes her hand, hurriedly heading somewhere out of site, to her annoyance.)

  Flare: (annoyed) Hey, what’s the matter with you?!

  Focus: (muttering quietly through gritted teeth) Keep it down, will ya?

  Flare: (muttering quietly in annoyance) Why’re you so paranoid?

  Focus: Everything about us just screams for attention. We can’t have that when our assignment is clear.

  Flare: Yeah, sure, whatever. Alright, now we’re in. What next?

  Focus: Just wait… then follow me.

  (Focus peeks from the corner and glances at the activities going on in the casino with a firm expression, then he notices two waiters approaching and immediately hides back, letting them pass by. Afterwards, he motions Flare to follow him, and she firmly nods, the two of them quietly and slowly trailing the two waiters. The waiters eventually head to the staff room, where most waiters gather together, one of them pulling out a key to open the door, but then the two quickly get struck in the nape by Flare and Focus, knocking them unconscious. They quickly drag the waiters out of sight into a corner and lay their backs on a wall.)

  Flare: (baffled) What’re we doing?

  Focus: We need to look the part for this event if we want to move around without drawing attention. Best we can do… is dress up as waiters.

  (Flare nods, leaving Focus to quickly undress one of the unconscious waiters. He hands Flare a white, buttoned shirt and a black cardigan with a black tie, along with black trousers, and she puts that outfit on over her usual attire. Focus then undresses the other waiter for his own disguise, quickly taking off the white shirt, black cardigan, and black tie, but as he goes on to take off the black trousers, he sees something and quickly puts the trousers back on with a flustered expression, which alerts Flare, who was just putting on the trousers over her orange shorts.)

  Flare: Um… what was that?

  Focus: (muttering, flustered) This guy went commando. (muttering to himself) But boy, it’ll be difficult to forget such an erotically massive man-sausage. Makes me wonder what those two would’ve h going on in the staff room.

  Flare: (flustered as well) What was that?!

  Focus: (petrified) Nothing! I’m just gonna… keep the trousers on… and head out with my own pants. Wouldn’t make a difference, right?

  Flare: Yeah, sure, you do that.

  (Flare and Focus are finally done, and they step out of their corner, leaving behind the two unconscious waiters in their undergarments [except for the commando guy, of course, he had to keep his trousers on]. As they glance at what’s going on in the open, Flare struggles to put on her tie, and Focus sighs deeply before adjusting her tie himself.)

  Flare: So how exactly are we supposed to capture Lyvia?

  Focus: (unamused, helping her put on her tie) It’s Sylvia.

  Flare: Yeah, her. (excitedly smirking) And when’re we getting to the burning part?!

  Focus: Since we’re waiters, we can conveniently serve up drinks to the guests, and those include none other than Sylvia. (pulling out a pill) This sleeping pill will dissolve into her drink. Once she takes a sip, it’ll take effect, making her dizzy then eventually putting her to sleep. I’ll make sure to take her along once that happens. If that doesn’t work… (pulling out a syringe) then this will do the trick.

  Flare: (grinning) Oh, so that’s why you bought those stuff! I thought you were gonna use it on me and put me to sleep whenever you get the chance! I would’ve burned you alive if that was the case!

  Focus: (deadpan) I’m not that petty.

  Flare: (placing a hand on her chin) Wait, but what will I do? (exasperated) And where’s the burning part?!

  Focus: You’ll accompany me as I get the job done. Once we get our hands on her laptop or wherever she keeps her data, you’ll burn the place down and let everyone else evacuate. This will help cover up our escape.

  Flare: (smirking) That’s more like it! Going out with a bang!

  Focus: (sighing deeply) Nothing reckless. Just do what I say.

  Flare: (crossing her arms, pouting) As long as you let me burn some stuff.

  (Focus sighs deeply then heads into the open, with Flare following him. The two calmly move around in a uniform manner, careful not to attract any attention, with Flare attempting to copy Focus’s steps with an unamused expression. Focus glances around with a sharp expression, seeing the guests partake in several sorts of casino games, from poker to roulette to blackjack, which brings a dismissive humph out of him. He then notices a waiter emerging from a certain door with a large plate of drinks, calmly offering those drinks to multiple guests, a cup for each. He and Flare promptly head to that door and through it, finding themselves in a small dining hall where several waiters collect drinks for all the guests, and they too head there.)

  Bartender 1A: (handing the two of them their plates full of drinks) Distribute them to the guests. Make sure everyone gets their own.

  Focus: (firmly) Understood.

  (Flare and Focus head off back to the casino hall with the drinks, and the bartender glances at them one more time as they leave, a slightly skeptical look on his face. The two hand over some cups to a bunch of attendants, being casual about this, and after a while, Focus carefully places the pill on one of the drinks, watching it dissolve and disappear. The color of the drink adapts a lighter shade of red as a result.)

  Focus: The lighter red drink is what Sylvia should drink. Put that in mind.

  (One of the guests is just about to reach out for the drugged drink, but Flare subtly reaches to him with her own plate of cups, and he decides to take another cup. Focus glances around in search of Sylvia, getting to witness a game of roulette. The roulette wheel spins under the glow of the chandelier lights, and a crowd gathers around as the croupier, in a crisp black vest, sweeps his hand over the table with flair. Sylvia makes her way through the bustling floor and stops just a few steps behind the table to watch.)

  Croupier: (calmly) No more bets.

  (The wheel slows, the silver ball bouncing and clicking against the red and black slots. The suited guest at the table leans forward with bated breath, his chips stacked tall in front of him. Sylvia’s faint smirk grows as she watches intently.)

  Guest: (muttering) Come on… come on, red seventeen…

  (The ball clatters around and slows bit by bit until it lands neatly into a black slot, and the crowd gasps in disbelief. The croupier clears his throat as the previously confident man realizes his loss.)

  Croupier: (announcing) Twenty-eight… black.

  (The guest slams his palm against the table as his chips are swept away. He buries his head in his hands as a wave of groans and laughs ripple through the crowd. Sylvia simply tilts her head, amused, her smirk unchanging as she watches the man’s misery.)

  Sylvia: (thinking to herself) Fortune really is the most ruthless dealer of all.

  (She turns away, letting the croupier reset the wheel for the next round, and stands from afar, sipping on her drink. Focus finally gets a glance at her and takes this opportunity to approach with Flare, but then — to his shock — Sylvia glances at him from afar, her smirk widening, which plants a seed of reluctance in Focus, who slightly steps back upon noticing that. Sylvia then calmly goes up the stairs, and Focus watches that through gritted teeth.)

  Focus: (thinking to himself, gritting his teeth) The way she glanced at me… it’s almost like she recognizes me… like she’s been waiting.

  Flare: (frowning) Something about the way she looked at us makes me feel worried. Are you worried, too?

  Focus: (grimly) Probably. Guess we just have to proceed as planned. We have to do this quietly and quickly.

  (Flare and Focus head up the stairs as well, both having finished up the cups at their disposal, all except for the drugged one at Focus’s plate. They stand at the doorsteps of Sylvia’s office, and to their shock, they see that it’s left open for them, with Sylvia calmly on her chair, glancing at them with a sly grin, to which Focus reacts with unease.)

  Focus: (trying to hide his unease) Your drink… ma’am.

  Sylvia: (grinning) Thank you. Please step forth.

  (Focus firmly steps into the office and sets down the cup at her desk, and she glances at it before slowly grabbing it. Focus stands still in anticipation, waiting for her to take in even a sip of that drink, but to his shock, she tosses the cup away with a smirk, then the door slams shut on Flare. She attempts to barge in, even using her fiery fist to break through, but it doesn’t work. Focus grits his teeth as he sees the desk so shockingly split into half and let Sylvia pass through, who stands up in front of Focus with a widening smirk.)

  Sylvia: (her smirk widening) I’ve been expecting you… Focus.