Paris seemed darker that night for some reason.
   Not that Maurice leSage noticed; he had things to do. Important things. He sighed, and stared at the chemical formula he had been working on for the last twenty hours. He just needed to find the last element to combine, and the solution would be complete.
  "Another all-nighter?" a female voice said behind him, startling Maurice. He turned around to see a blonde-haired woman in a white lab coat that matched his. Her name was Valerie Jaune, and Maurice hated her. He didn't know why, but something about her seemed...odd.
   Maurice pushed a strand of black hair out of his face.
   "Sure." he mumbled, then returned to his work.
   "You know," Valerie began, "They say a revolution is coming."
   "What are you talking about?" Maurice grumbled. He hated to be interrupted like this. Not when he was so close to success (and a promotion to go with it).
   "Not every question can be solved in a lab." If Maurice didn't have his back turned to her, he would see Valerie smile connivingly. But it didn't matter; he had the final isotope isolated and merely had to contain it within the solution.
   The solution to eternal youth.
   But it was all for naught, for the next feeling Maurice felt was not joy or relief, but a dagger in his back.
   As Maurice leSage fell to the floor bleeding, the last thing he heard was "I'm sorry, but I cannot let you release this to the public. It would cause turmoil, and we wouldn't want that now, would we? Non...pas ici..."
   Paris seemed a little darker that night.