Agent Harrison walked into the Director's office, fighting back a deep sense of dread. The mission had been a complete disaster, probably the biggest wreck he had been involved in since that motorcycle accident five years ago. Harrison wasn't angry at the Director for calling them in. Quite the contrary, a failure as massive as the one they had was deserving of discipline. Still, it wasn't entirely their fault that it had gone that way. Harrison had tried to utilize his skills in the way he saw fit, and while he could've done more, he was comfortable with his choices. He had little time to truly react, and nobody seemed to be expecting a massive UFO to rip apart the church. How could've they? It took everyone so off guard that most didn't seem to actually know what to do. At least it wasn't a complete loss. They got a cadaver (Harrison shuddered at the memory of feeling the person's aura fade) and they had discovered what the Priest truly was. There had been a lot of collateral damage, a lot of chaos and panic, but next time they would (hopefully) be prepared.

As he stepped into the crowded office with the rest of his fellow agents, he looked at the Director head on, not letting any sign of shame or bitterness cloud his expression. Whatever reprimand he would receive, he would do so with respect and understanding, not annoyance or pettiness. The Director, whether he was right or wrong, was the Director, and what he said was always right.