Words are stuck in his throat. It isn’t exactly grief, nor is it pain or sadness.

  Perhaps only some guilt.

  “Come sit here with me,” Leah motions him towards the chair beside her, where Matthew had sat just a while ago.

  “Leah… you should get something to eat. You don’t look good,” Adrian says quietly. Leah ignores him and looks at Buren again. From this angle he can’t clearly see the stomach wound, but the muscles and skin stitching itself together is very visible. They are like spiderwebs, weaving together in intricate patterns and connecting in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

  “How bad was it yesterday… if it is still like this?” Adrian asks the healers. They don’t answer him, too busy with their own work. He looks at Leah, but she is quiet too.

  Adrian sits there silently, letting the minutes pass by, watching the wound close slowly and slowly. He doesn’t move from his place, nor does he complain. For once, he doesn’t feel annoyed at being near his clan.

  In what must’ve been a few hours, the healers finally leave. The wound is closed now, but the skin still remains tender, and his limbs are still missing. They say that they'll be back in a few hours after some rest.

  As they leave, Matthew enters the tent, and sits on the ground–having no more chairs to take.

  It is only then does Leah speak, “Ad, do you remember the time when we used to play together as kids? All five of us?”

  Adrian nods, “Yes.”

  “Those were some really good times. We would run around the clan, sometimes getting scolded there, sometimes getting a candy from Mrs. Marger. We used to run so much, and yet it felt like we would never ever tire,” Leah says. Adrian and Matthew sit there listening to her calmly.

  “We used to spend so many hours in the market as well. Looking at the Sacrifices, thinking about our build, and about all the cool powers we will use to protect the Tower. I think we called ourselves the ‘Tower Guardians’ or something silly like that,” Matthew chuckles, as if living through that memory.

  “One time I remember we went too close to the end, and Martin almost fell down. If not for you and Matthew catching his hand at the last moment, he might really have died that day,” Her voice goes lower, more deeper, “I was really scared that day. So scared that I cried myself to sleep with my mom. The next few days I always held onto Martin’s shirt whenever we played. Martin would tease me about it, but I was still very scared. I don’t know how we got over it so quickly.”

  She looks at him now, eye to eye, and for the first time in a long time he could see tears bubble in those eyes.

  “I don’t know when, but someday I left his shirt. We all grew up, got new friends, you and Martin stayed close, but the rest of us grew a little distant. I left his shirt, you know, and the next thing I knew, he really fell, and then I never got to hold him again.” She cries, her voice echoing through the small tent.

  “I was sad too. I too lost a friend that day. I don’t know why you act like you’re the only one who grieves. You’re not! I won’t fucking allow you to!” She yells at him, her tears marring her already dishevelled face.

  “It was unfortunate what happened to him, and I’ll carry the regret forever. Maybe if I had stuck with him I could’ve noticed the signs earlier. Did something to help him. Anything, so that he won’t become what he did. But there’s nothing I can do anymore except hold on to the team I have. But…” She looks at the lying figure of Buren, and says, “I almost lost one more friend yesterday. One more regret I would have to carry forever. All because you weren’t there.

  “We are supposed to be a team. A unit who works together and fights together. Except you went off all alone yesterday. I tried to call you, but you didn’t listen. Our team relied on your support, but you went away. Why? Why!?” Adrian can only look down and hope for something appropriate he can say there, but nothing will come out.

  “If not for that friend of yours, we might really have lost Buren. Is that what you want? To see all of your friends dead one by one!?” Her tears have run dry, her voice cracking and hoarse, and yet Leah yells.

  Adrian is about to say something. Anything to defend himself, but Leah stops him, “You should go. Go to whatever new friends you have, I don’t care. Please don’t come back here. Don’t…”

  Adrian tries to protest, a deep void of emotions he can’t process through roams inside of him, choking him of all words. Eventually he stands up with one last look at Leah and Buren, and walks outside. Matthew follows him.

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  “Are you here to yell at me too?” Adrian asks softly. His voice won’t come out.

  Matthew smiles in his own weary smile, as he pats my shoulder and says, “Don’t worry about her. I’ll take care. She’s just a little emotional right now. I’ll come get you when things get a little better, okay?”

  Adrian nods, bumps fists with Matthew–just like they used to do as kids–and walks away.

  #

  Adrian is standing in front of the metal wall, tracing his finger along it and feeling its cold touch and the stories engraved on it. He is looking at the wall, and yet not really looking at it.

  His mind is a place unknown, the thoughts and the words of Leah, her expressions and her cries feel so distant here. Perhaps he’s a coward for escaping from it, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

  All this time he had spent blaming everyone for what happened to Martin, suddenly feels like a child’s tantrum. He still believed it to be the clan’s fault, as well as the Tower’s, but suddenly he doesn’t know if he is allowed to blame every individual for it.

  He can’t forgive Matthew for what he has done, but what about the others? Is it their fault too? Can he blame Leah and Buren, who just like him, were just helpless spectators in that parade?

  He remembers Buren’s words yesterday, about opening up and talking to them, but yet he can’t do it. He’s… afraid, more than anything. Afraid that they’ll rat him out, and he’ll be just a dead body hanging above the platform like Martin.

  This is the worst scenario.

  Adrian sighs, breaking out of his focus as he realises he has been standing in front of the wall for a long time, looking like an idiot.

  He’s about to walk away, when a voice reaches his ears. “Very fascinating, isn’t it?” It’s a distinctly male voice, young, vibrant, zealous.

  Adrian looks to his side where he finds a church member, draped in the white robes of clarity. He has long black hair tied in a ponytail and brown eyes; his bronze coloured skin accentuating the coat and making it look even better.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh I just noticed you looking at the battle of Clarity against the monsters of the outside for a while, and thought that I’ll come talk to someone as dedicated as you,” He smiles and puts his hand forward for a shake. Adrian takes it. “I am Jarad Vojtesak.”

  “Adrian Alphona. And uh, well this is kinda embarrassing, but although I did come here to watch the engravings, I ended up quite lost in my own thoughts and forgot to actually study what is drawn here,” Adrian chuckles as he says it.

  It is a lie obviously. He has come here to move as far away as he could from his tent, and also to test the wall and if there’s any way he can escape if a need arises. But he’ll gain nothing from being frank with a member of Clarity, and all kinds of knowledge about the church by befriending one.

  “Ah, I apologize for jumping to conclusions. Yesterday had been… quite hectic. I can understand why that will happen,” The man nods in understanding. Adrian has been on the lookout for any traces of emotion on the man’s face, but there is nothing except a calm zeal.

  He is a real zealot.

  “Now that you’re here, why don’t you tell me about this battle yourself? Hearing about it from the mouth of a member of the church will always be better than me just looking at the pictures,” Adrian says, and watches as the man’s eyes practically gleam with excitement.

  “I’m just an archivist, but if there’s anything I’m good at, it is telling stories!” The man says, and begins the story. He starts by tracing the wall a few metres back, and goes along the wall, developing the story with the appropriate breaks and tense motions.

  He talks about the world thousands of years ago when humanity struggled against the monsters which roamed the world, the deep deep darkness which followed the humans of that era.

  As the drawings change, he talks about how Clarity eventually took it upon Himself to help humanity, fighting against the monsters of the world all on His own, swallowing the darkness and the sins.

  And as the story comes to an end with the drawings, it shows a mighty Clarity instating the Tower and imprisoning the monsters from outside, giving humanity both a chance to grow strong, and keep them safe. Tired from His fight, He now rests in the Spirit Realm, and is it their, His subjects job to give Him their blood to not only help the Tower flourish, but also help Him restore.

  Adrian has heard this story many times in his clan. Clarity is afterall the leading church of the world, and every other is considered a heretic cult. Even the priests in his clan are a part of Clarity, praising both the god and the Tower.

  He looks at the zealot beside him who seems to be tearing up from retelling this fantastical tale.

  Zealots really are something.

  “This was most definitely a very interesting session, Mr. Jarad. I thank you for telling me about this. I could not have heard it any better from any other mouth,” Adrian says with a smile.

  “You’ve been a great listener as well. I’m so happy to see people like you. Those who can understand and enjoy the church’s teachings. I must say, it’s great meeting you here, Mr. Adrian. If God wishes so, let’s meet again someday over a drink, and have a chat.” The man shakes his hand and walks away.

  Adrian lets his smile slip away as the man is lost in the sea of white tents.

  Maintaining contact with him would be good. I need to find out what the church plans to do with this floor. It’s dangerous too. If they find me, I’ll never even see the light of the day with the High Ranker roaming around.

  I also need to make contact with the revolutionaries, but I can’t do it with this face.

  Plans churn in his mind. Now that the emotions have settled down, the plans become prevalent. There is still a lot for him to do on the floor, learn a lot.

  But before that…

  Adrian turns to look at Ji-a walking towards him. He had sensed her a while ago, but looking at her now like this is very relieving. She looks okay, healthy. A little disoriented maybe, but nothing much.

  She smiles at him, and Adrian returns the smile, and opens his mouth to say.

  “I think it’s time we have a chat, don’t you think?”

  #