[Jevan Perspective]

I walked behind the bartender until he led me to a rusty sewer opening. He crouched, pulled off the iron cover, and dropped down inside. I followed.

The place branched out in many directions, but the bartender moved with confidence as if the sewers were his second home. The stench hit my nose hard and my sharpened senses only made it worse.

I could barely stand it even after covering my nose with my hand. After about half an hour of walking we finally surfaced.

We crossed several narrow side alleys before stopping in front of a house on this deserted street. The bartender stepped up to the door and began rummaging through his pockets.

After a few moments of useless fumbling he looked at me. From the look in his eyes it was obvious he had lost the key.

I sighed, stepped forward, placed my hand on the lock and murmured, "I hope the door opens."

Several seconds passed before the door slowly creaked open, accompanied by a faint pain in my head. The bartender stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, then gestured for me to go inside.

The floor inside was filthy and the furniture coated in dust. It was obvious no one had thought of cleaning the place in years.

I followed him to his room.

Papers were scattered everywhere and in one corner lay scraps of food. Cobwebs filled the ceiling.

The bartender opened his wardrobe and pulled out a white shirt, black trousers, and a brown coat, then handed them to me.

"The bathroom is right across from the room."

I set Timaeus on the floor, took the clothes from him, and went to the bathroom. When I got there I stripped off my blood-stained clothes and sank into the tub.

I could have skipped all of this using my Authority, but for some reason I didn't want to. I removed the mask from my face, and as soon as I did the spirits gathered around me again.

There were more than before, and the dark crimson glow surrounding them had grown stronger. All the wounds that had been dormant flared with pain at once.

I quickly put the mask back on and the spirits vanished instantly. I gasped deeply and submerged myself further into the water.

…

When I finished cleaning myself, I put on the new clothes and went back to meet him.

I found him sitting on his bed holding Timaeus in his hands.

"So, what did you want to ask me?"

I sat down on the opposite chair.

"Me? I thought you were the one who'd flood me with questions."

"You're really alive?"

"How many times do I have to repeat this? Yes, I'm alive."

"But how are you still alive?"

I looked at my body, still marked by wounds.

"I have my own ways. Don't worry about the details."

He let out a hollow laugh with no trace of mirth.

"I guess so."

I pointed a finger at him.

"Is that all? Because I've got more important things to do."

It wasn't true but I wanted him to hurry.

"What happened to the others?"

"The others?"

"Valera, Kiran, Jax, Marco… what happened to them?"

Who were they even? I wasn't the real Jevan to know, but I didn't say that to his face.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"You don't?"

"I don't remember anything about the past."

"But if you don't remember, then why… why did you save me?"

I smirked under the mask. The truth was I only wanted to know your connection to the real Jevan.

"I don't know. A momentary whim, maybe."

He rubbed his chin.

"I guess that explains a lot…"

"So who are you? And what's your connection to me?"

"As I told you, we were comrades in the Street Sons gang."

He began to tell me about the past, but nothing he said gave me the answers I wanted.

"You don't remember me, I'm Vensen?"

"No."

I noticed a faint look of relief cross his face.

Interesting… did I make a mistake trusting him? I don't think so. At least we're in the same boat now. Everyone at the Broken Glass Tavern saw me save him; they'll think he's cooperating with me.

"Do you know that man with gray hair and the annoying smile?"

I mimicked his vile grin.

"That's Morc, the deputy leader of the Claw gang."

"The deputy leader himself?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Because I just faced him."

"You faced Morc?!"

I nodded.

"Don't tell me… you killed him?"

I chuckled lightly while straightening my coat collar.

"No. I didn't kill him, but he ran."

His eyes widened and his brows rose.

"What have you been through these past years?"

I've got the same question.

I shook my head.

"Not much."

***

[Nyla Perspective]

I couldn't move from my spot for a whole hour.

After many tries I finally managed to take a single step forward. I advanced, feeling along the bodies one by one.

Augustus… Crowfield… Mira.

Just yesterday Augustus told me he'd had a daughter. He was smiling with joy. He said he'd saved enough money to move with his wife and child to the central district once these conflicts calmed down. He spoke of the future with such passion and hope, and now nothing of him remained but a cold corpse soaked in blood.

I bit my lip until it bled and muttered through my teeth, "That masked bastard…" then left the alley only to stumble on an even more horrific sight.

Dozens of corpses, some torn apart, others without heads. I couldn't bear it and vomited on the ground. My eyes looked at faces I knew well men and women I had fought beside, laughed with, cried with.

I couldn't erase the image of Vensen speaking with that masked man from my mind. I knew he had never shown much affection for the Claw members he had always lived on the margins, isolated from others.

But to treat the one who slaughtered his comrades so brutally as a friend? What kind of heart does he have? Weren't they his comrades too?

I sensed someone approaching, so I grabbed my sword and raised it in a defensive stance. From the nearby shadows a man emerged, his dark-gray hair bordering on black and eyes of the same color. A small smile sat on his face without reaching his eyes. It was Morc, the deputy leader.

His voice was very calm:

"What happened here?"

I felt his smile grow darker.

I stammered:

"Th… that masked man… he did this."

He didn't answer, but crouched beside one of the nearby corpses. He sat next to it, staring at its frozen features. The smile never left his lips, yet I felt the bitterness of his grief seeping from his eyes. He reached out and closed the dead man's eyes, then stood and said without looking at me:

"Go. Bring some men… we need to bury our dead."

I nodded.

"As you command."

I ran off, but after a few seconds of running I suddenly stopped and turned back to him. He was still standing where I had left him, staring at the corpse with tired eyes. I watched him for a moment, then turned and kept running.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.