Tirnanog

Youth, still injured, is being healed by Sequana when a group of people suddenly surrounds them. Schneizal notices that they have red cloth tied around their hands and arms, similar to what Youth wears. Before they can react, the group knocks out Schneizel and Sequana.

When they all wake up, they're inside a hut. Youth is resting in a bed, and a woman with half-wolf features and a muscular build approaches them. "Hi, I'm Vriede. Nice to meet you," she says with a smile.

Youth immediately recognizes her and responds, "Vriede... it's been a while."

Sequana, still distrustful, growls, "REBELS!" and moves to attack, but Schneizal quickly smacks her on the head. "Calm down, lady. We're not here to fight."

Vriede chuckles, understanding the tension. "It's alright. You were all injured, and I couldn't leave you out there."

In Ketergia

Fort and Rooks stand at the edge of a tall balcony overlooking the city. The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets below. The mood is heavy, the events of the day lingering between them.

Fort crosses his arms, his expression unreadable. "I can't believe what we did out there, Rooks. Those people... they were just trying to survive, and we... we took everything from them."

Rooks leans casually against the stone railing, a smirk tugging at his lips despite the conversation's somber tone. "It's how it works, kid. You know the drill. Ketergia doesn't care about what happens to the surface. They're just tools to get what we need."

Fort clenches his fists, frustration creeping into his voice. "I was born here. I thought... I thought we were supposed to be helping, not... not making their lives worse."

Rooks tilts his head slightly, looking at Fort with a bemused expression. "You sound like you're starting to get soft. You weren't like this before."

Fort grits his teeth, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes. "You didn't see what I saw today. It was wrong, Rooks. The way they were treated... They're just people. They have families, homes... and we took it all."

Rooks sighs, turning away from the railing and facing Fort. "Look, I get it. You think you're better than this. But when you're a part of Ketergia, you don't have the luxury of idealism. You do what you're told, and you survive. That's the only way."

Fort shakes his head. "I can't just ignore it. I won't."

Rooks shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes sharp with a hidden sadness. "You're a good kid, Fort. But you'll learn soon enough. The world doesn't play by the rules you think it does."

Fort's gaze hardens. "Maybe. But I'm not ready to give up on what's right."

Rooks smirks, his tone softening slightly. "So idealistic, guess we'll see how far that lasts."

As Rooks and Fort continue their conversation, a sudden figure appears in the shadows, stepping out onto the balcony. It's Sarevsael, his wings shimmering as he glides to the ground with an air of arrogance. His eyes gleam with curiosity, and he has a knowing smirk on his face.

"Sup, lackeys?" Sarevsael says casually, his tone dripping with superiority. "Now tell me everything about that eyepatch dude.

"You mean the guy from the surface?" Fort responds, trying to keep his tone neutral, but there's an obvious tension in his voice.

"Yeah, that one," Sarevsael pressed, his wings twitching as he narrowed his eyes, clearly intrigued. "He was wearing Ketergian armor. I noticed it right away. What's he doing with that gear? You don't just wear that stuff without some reason. So, why's he got it?"

Rooks lets out a low chuckle, but there's something serious in his tone when he answers. "Well, I don't know exactly, but he's not from Ketergia. He's not like us." He hesitates before adding, "That armor, though... it's not something just anyone can get their hands on. You'd have to have connections, or... maybe it was stolen."

Sarevsael raises an eyebrow, clearly amused but also intrigued. "Stolen, huh? So, this kid's a thief? A rebel with stolen Ketergian armor?" He ponders for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. "A person who's not from Ketergia wearing that armour brings disgust to this place. Why wear it out in the open like that? That's a pretty bold move."

Fort remains quiet, his hands tense at his sides. He looks conflicted, the guilt from their mission still weighing on him. "I don't know," he mutters. "But it doesn't sit right with me."

Sarevsael chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the mystery. "Well, it's not like you two would know much. Looks like we've got some digging to do. Let's find out who this kid really is."