"... I'll tell the truth."

One week had passed since Spero had unwillingly entered this dank, dreary shack. The young man sat on the floor against the back wall. A thick metal chain wrapped around his slender waist, restricting his movement. The slack of the chain allowed for minor movements around the room. He could stand and walk around, albeit not to the desired level. Dim grey light squeezed through every crack in the wooden room, signaling cloud coverage.

"Go ahead, then."

Spero sat with his legs crossed and his arms pressed against his ever-shrinking stomach. He had made a bad habit of biting the inside of his lip with the tips of his teeth, so now painful sores riddled his mouth. His fingernails were worn down to the skin from constant picking at the wooden floor.

"... I come from the Tectone Sector on a mission to observe the area."

The muffled pitter-patter of raindrops began to reverberate off of the walls of the shack. Spero had become somewhat well-accustomed to rain-- although he had never actually seen it yet. The only thing he saw was the dripping of water through the cracks in the ceiling, which dampened the wood below. It always left what Spero considered to be a pleasant smell behind, and the noise of the rain was a needed distinction from the chirping and rustling of tree leaves.

...

Silence filled the room where Clas and Spero stood. Spero made sure to stand straight as to appear confident. His stomach was churning and his throat was dry.

"Go on."

"... That's it. That's the truth." Clas tapped his foot in response to Spero's short story.

"What was the purpose of this 'observation'?" Spero was worried about this. He had come up with what he thought was a suitable lie to get out of the torture of not being believed. He used all that he had heard, which wasn't much, and tried to slip through the cracks. Spero gulped and quietly responded.

"Just observation."

In his time in the shack, Spero became accustomed to every floorboard, every crack, every mistake in the engineering. Some wood panels overlapped. Some were too far apart, allowing sunlight and rain to slip through. The wood below that was dark and seemed "squishy". He had nothing else to do but observe his limited surroundings.

After Spero told the lie that he was an observer about five days ago, his chains were swapped for ones more forgiving, and he was given food for the first time. Since then, he had gotten food twice a day, every day along with a cup of water in a rusted old cup. Something had always confused him, though. Clas didn't believe him even when he told that lie.

If he had believed that Spero was sent by the Tectone Sector, it would make sense as to why he would start getting fed. But he didn't. He made that clear immediately. He tore apart Spero's claim word by word, exposing him as a fraud just trying to get a meal. So why, Spero wondered, did the man immediately loosen up.

Although strange, Spero had a theory that he hoped was true. Maybe by hearing his lie, the truth that he wouldn't believe became more evident. It seemed to be wishful thinking, but he was at least getting food and water every day either way.

He had met a few different individuals through the delivery of food to his shack. He only knew the name of Clas, but he didn't come often. They were all women with tanned skin, but had variety in their hair and eye colors. Spero liked checking those things in new people. When Clas did visit, he was his normal stern, stubborn self-- always asking questions that couldn't be answered.

Spero looked down at his dirty hands on his lap. He picked at his nails often to try and correct the damage done by the wood, but they never looked right. His time was mostly spent going over what had happened thus far in what he believed to be the sphere. His time outside of the shack seemed short compared to the week inside, but the eventfulness of that mere day filled his mind with every opportunity.

While he felt tinges of regret for abandoning his old life, he couldn't say after a few days of reflection that it was much worse. There was surely more pain, stress, and fear... but he knew what he signed up for when he jumped into the unknown. "Unknown."

While Spero had all the time in the world to go over what had happened and reflect on it, he felt as though most of the time was for nothing. He hadn't wrapped his mind around anything any more than a week ago. He was just as confused, scared, and frustrated as before. Not even reflecting on himself could be achieved in his current state.

...

As Spero waited for his afternoon meal and drink, the door in front of him opened-- revealing Clas and the sun's glow behind him. He seemed early to deliver food, but Spero had a hard time trusting his own judgment. As Clas walked into the shack, Spero noticed that he wasn't holding a tray like is usually in the hands of those who enter. Instead, he held a small key.

"I don't think I can eat that." Spero sat up straight and crossed his legs.

"Hm. You're not eating tonight." The muscular man made his way to Spero, stopping directly in front of his feet. Not eating? What did I do? Clas spoke again, "Stand up." Spero knew better at this point than to argue. Using the little strength he had with his quickly withering muscles, he stood to his feet and planted his forearm against the wall for support. Clas took the key in his hand, leaned down, and started looking at the chain around his waist.

"I'm going to release you from your chains. Do not make an attempt to run or fight. I will slit your throat on the spot, and then watch as you squirm around on the ground, begging for your life. Got it?" Spero didn't expect such a harsh statement from Clas right from the get-go. Usually it took his "lying" to get to that point.

"Got it," Spero responded. It seemed that whatever was going on, the people here were not going to let Spero fade away quietly. What was their plan, he wondered. He truly had no ideas. Despite his confusion, he didn't bother asking any questions. His head was infested with tiny needles and his lips were crisp as the morning sun.

"Oh, almost forgot." Spero looked at Clas as he tried to hide a twinge of panic. The man reached into the back pocket of his dirty pants and grabbed two wood, circular objects connected by a small chain. They looked similar to handcuffs used in the cities on criminals, but much less dignified. Clas motioned for Spero to put out his arms and he obliged. With two satisfying clicks, Spero's guess was right and his hands were locked in front of him.

With that seemingly important action out of the way, Clas used the key to release the hold on his waist. The heavy metal hold split in two and slammed hard on the wood below. Spero felt extremely light.

Clas let out a sigh with an, "Alright." With a tight grip on Spero's left arm, Clas lead him out of the shack. The two stepped into the world. He had to limp with his leg because of whatever pierced it last week. It didn't hurt as much as he expected though, Spero hadn't seen the outside of the shack before. His only view was through the opened door across the room. It seemed far out of reach, but here he was. With a light breeze swimming through the fresh air, Clas took a right and began dragging Spero along.

Tall trees surrounded the shack-- much taller than the forest he had been in before. The ground was coated with short grass that danced along with the wind. The bottoms of each tree were consumed by vines and moss. Large rocks sat idle, sprawled across the forest. There wasn't another building in sight. Spero found that strange. He heard people talking quite often considering where he was. Did people come here just to get near Spero? What made him so special?

As they walked further away from the shack and into the forest, Spero looked behind to get a look at the structure he resided in from the outside. He let out a little chuckle. It was exactly as he expected. It was a very decrepit building, and also very simple. One door on the outside, four walls, and triangular roof. Such roofs were uncommon in the city, but they could be found more towards the center where Spero tried to avoid.

The afternoon glow of the sun passed through the leaves-- leaving patches of shade casting over every surface. Spero's legs felt weak as he stepped on the uneven ground plastered with dead branches and leaves. Now that Spero was outside for a bit, he noticed that the leaves still alive on the trees seemed more purple and yellow. He didn't know if this was because the trees around him now were a different kind, or some other reason.

Snapping himself out of his endless trains of thought, he realized now was not the time for idle pondering. His life was at stake. Even just a week ago, Spero had made up his mind that he would let himself fade away. Despite that, he knew humans had the primal desire to live. He had been caught between these two thoughts for the past week.

For now, I guess I'll just see what happens. As long as I keep getting food I'll be fine.

He didn't know whether his contentedness to living for now was because of his innate survival instincts or because of a logical decision, but either option lead to the same outcome for him. Spero made sure to keep his eyes away from the brooding hulk of a man to his left to avoid unnecessary conflict, so his eyes were stuck to the right. Below them was a natural path laid out by constant walking, and poles with charred wood atop lining the outside of said path.

Spero saw a person ahead walking towards him and Clas. It seemed like a man-- one with no shirt and simple brown pants. He wasn't wearing shoes either. The man walked past Clas and Spero without saying a word or making any eye contact. Spero looked behind him to see the man quickly turn his head away. It seemed like the man was trying to sneak a look at Spero while his back was turned.

As Clas directed Spero around a corner, a multitude of buildings came into view. There was a main path in the middle that stretched wider than the one they had been on. A few people were going about their lives as they rounded the corner, but scattered as soon as they saw Spero. He expected as much considering his position in this new world.

Every building looked identical-- made with wood, a door in the center, a second floor with two windows evenly spaced out, and a tall triangular roof. There were some buildings that stood out, like one to Spero's left. It had colorful plants lining the ground around it, as well as shelves on the outside wall with even more plants. Spero had never seen such beautiful plants in his life.

"Where are we?" Ah-- Spero spoke up with a question. He had gotten too comfortable. He cursed the colorful plants for lowering his guard. Luckily, he didn't get any response. As they kept walking down the wide path, Spero took in the town he found himself in. Buildings lined the path on each side, and it looked like there were even more behind those buildings. It looked like a mini "city". It was just as quiet too.

People watched Spero pass by through the comfort of the buildings' windows. Spero noticed a trend in the people here-- they had much darker skin. They-- wait.

Why am I being brought out here?

Spero had a bad habit of thinking outside of what was important in his current situation. He was much too calm given what was happening. He had been captured after getting his leg punctured. He then was beat up and left to rot in a shack. They knew he had lied about being a part of the "Tectone Sector". In the city, criminals were publicly hanged after their crimes were spoken aloud to whatever crowd was nearby. He wasn't a criminal in the Sphere to his knowledge, but the rules could be different here.

Was lying a crime? Was even being here a crime? That woman that sneaked into the shack seemed surprised that I was found in some lake... was that a crime?

Regardless, Spero was worried that he would be executed. The reason didn't matter if his throat would be entangled with death.

Clas, with Spero's arm in his grasp, turned around another corner where more buildings lined the path. These buildings were more varied. Some were tall, others were wide. In the middle of the path was some sort of "hole" that Spero didn't recognize or understand. It had a thick string and a bucket hanging over it. At the end of the path, about 100 meters down, was a large building. It stood out among the others. It had many, many windows, and art painted on the walls. It looked like it was done by kids and adults alike. It was a very colorful building.

Clas kept walking with Spero until they reached the building at the end of the path. The drawings were much clearer now. Along with a multitude of symbols that he didn't recognize, there were many stick figures, suns, trees, and other plant life. The drawings reminded him of his time in the orphanage, which wasn't pleasant.

A creaky wooden staircase full of cracks and crevices lead to the front doors of the large building. Clas took Spero up these steps and to the doors. Clas knocked. There was no response for a few seconds. For the first time, Spero tried to catch a glimpse of Clas's face. He looked tired and annoyed.

"Enter," rung out a commanding voice on the other side of the doors. With that, Clas opened the doors and pulled Spero through with significant force. Clas let go of his arm and pushed him further into the room. Spero saw that Clas was staying at the doors.

Does he want me to keep going in?

Spero gulped and turned away from Clas. Ahead of him was a large room with rows of benches facing what looked like a stage at the other side of the building. Natural orange light glistened through the many windows above. A lone man stood on the stage. He wore a strange, pointy mask and flowing, colorful garb that hung down to his feet. He had long hair tied up in a bun. Spero cautiously walked past the rows of benches and approached the man. Before he could get to the stage, the man put his arm out and gestured Spero to stop moving.

Spero stared into the silent mask for a few seconds before becoming uncomfortable. Was he going to speak?

Does he want me to say something?

Spero looked behind at Clas, and he looked back with nothing to say. He also noticed that the doors had closed. He was trapped in this large room. The awkward silence was becoming unbearable. He wanted to say something to break it, but had no idea what. He could start with a simple question. That made sense.

"W..." Spero cleared his throat, "What am I doing here?" The man on the stage adjusted himself as he stood up straight.

"Oh, so he can speak!" Spero immediately became aggravated at the man's upbeat, condescending tone.

"... Yes," Spero said, trying to keep his anger in check.

The man laughed a hardy laugh. "Well that's good! A good first step, one of many I'd say." The man leaned in for a better look. "Well then, you have a look about you! I bet you sonder and gloat often... poor thing."

Sonder?

"Am I... going to die here?" Spero let out the question to his most desired answer. He had to accept whatever came out of this man's mouth. He didn't have much room for choice.

"Well, that depends on you! Let me explain what you're doing here. I told Clas there not to tell you anything, as I wanted the pleasure! It's not often you speak to someone from the outside, right?" The man clenched his hands together as he waited for a response. Was this a test? Or did he actually believe Spero's initial story?

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Before coming up with a response, the man spoke again. " You're here to be 'judged' as I put it. I want to find out who you are, your morals, and your resolve! So tell me, what's your name?"

"... Spero."

"Spero... Spero, Spero, Spero. I like that name. It's unique and rolls off the tongue. Okay 'Spero', what would you say is your main goal in life?" Spero was taken aback. He found the question odd in such a situation. After just asking his name, he wanted to know Spero's end goal in life...

"I don't know." He told the truth as he knew it.

"Ah, sure you do! You're here, aren't you? Look, when I was your age, I didn't think I had a goal either. But I realized that I did have a goal! I just didn't know it. So, with that in mind, what's your goal?"

"I don't know," responded Spero without thinking.

"Hm, I'll ask another time. Think about it!" The man crossed his arms and tapped his finger. "Is your goal... to be as brooding as possible?" The man let out another hardy laugh, tilting his head back. Spero stood emotionless.

...

"You really have no sense of humor, huh? He's almost as boring as you, Clas!" The man giggled, clearly thinking himself to be the funniest man alive. Spero was filled with anger at the man talking down to him. He had no right to insult his character as he was. He didn't know anything about Spero.

"Is this your way of testing me? By trying to make me laugh at my own expense?" Spero responded with cold, angry eyes. He had already had enough of the man on the stage. Everything about him was ticking Spero off. "Let me take a look at your face, then maybe I'd be able to have a good laugh."

The man stood stunned for a moment before pointing at Spero with a fully extended arm. "That right there... that's good!" The man burst into a laughing fit. Spero made up his mind. He'd try to escape, if just to spite the man in front of him. He didn't know why he held such an immediate resentment towards the masked man. All he knew was that the anger was driving him. Spero, without thinking about consequence, took a step forward to approach the man.

"GH=="

The cold steel of a blade caressed Spero's neck. The heat of his skin being pierced drew a small amount of blood. A hand was placed on his forehead.

"Not another step, 'Spero'."

Clas, with a blade in one hand, and Spero's head in another, stopped Spero's anger from reaching the masked man on the stage. Spero slowly put his arms up in the air to show surrender. Any slight movement would mean certain death. Clas had stopped the long blade from slicing too deep into Spero's neck, but that could change at any moment.

"Well..." the masked man said, "that's more or less what I was looking for." The man's legs stepped down off of the stage and on to Spero's level. With his arm's still crossed, he approached. Wood panels creaked as the two stood face to face. Spero could see the man's eyes well now. They looked old and tired. "I know what your goal is."

There was a clear distinction between the man Spero talked to on the stage versus the one that stood directly in front of him. It was a switch was flipped, like a facade tied to the stage had dripped away. The masked man was quiet and particular. Spero could tell just from one sentence. With the blade tickling his neck as well, he was naturally intimidated.

A silence filled out the room like water in a flood. The eyes behind the mask stared unblinking through Spero's soul. Was he waiting for a response? Spero couldn't gauge what he was supposed to do. Was he looking for something?

He told me to think about my goal, but now he's pushing on it as if I already know as well?

Should he have indulged on the man's apparent omnipotence? Spero knew the man was bluffing. If Spero didn't truly know what he wanted, then how could this stranger from a different world?

Or... do I know my goal?

He was well aware of his goal to restart his life fresh in the Sphere, but that answer didn't satisfy him for some reason. It didn't feel like enough. That was the present, while what the man was asking for was the future... He disliked the man's eyes through the mask. He wasn't looking away.

I need to say something... maybe just indulge for now.

"What is my goal then?" asked Spero with surprising confidence in his voice. Another silence followed, until--

"Your goal is to survive."

...

"Was that really the answer you were looking for?" Spero wondered if the man was joking again. Everyone wanted to live. It wasn't a life goal just as eating and drinking day by day weren't life goals. "I disagree. Surviving isn't a goal. It's automatic. Like breathing or blinking. What does this have to do with 'judging' me? How does this determine whether I'm from the city or not?"

"Oh no-- you're mistaken. I know where you're from and where you're not. I'm judging something else."

"... Judging what?"

"So surviving is automatic?" The man uncrossed his arms and tapped the tip of his finger to his chin. "In that case, what would you do if I told Clas to slit your throat? Would you struggle? Squirm? Scratch? Bite? Escape? Would all of that be automatic? And if it was, does that not make those actions part of a bigger picture? Part of a 'goal'? Even if that goal is subconscious? What would you say a tree's goal is? They can't have thoughts as far as we know, but they still perform actions to ensure their survival. Wouldn't you say their goal is to survive? Or would you say that it isn't a goal just because of the lack of autonomy and individualism?"

Spero was frustrated. "I don't care about any of that. Whether it's a goal or not, it doesn't really matter. Right now I'm just focused on not getting my throat slit. And if you told the guy behind me to slit my throat, I would fight. Because despite my issues with life, my instincts follow their own rules."

"Hm..." the man pondered.

"Are you judging my character? How I respond to weird, philosophical questions? Why does that determine whether I live or die?" Spero was confused, dirty, and annoyed. Despite all of that, he felt more in tune with this new world than he ever had before. Why was that?

The man looked at Clas. "Throw him back into the holding room. Let him starve."

"What??" Spero gasped.

"Yes, sir." replied Clas as he grabbed Spero's arm with a tight grip.

"Wait, wait! What did I do wrong?!" Spero resisted Clas' grasp as he yelled out to the masked man. "Why should answering an irrelevant question wrong determine my fate?!" Spero wanted a reasonable response. He wouldn't accept this current situation. The man in front of him sighed and scratched his neck.

"Because you're too close-minded. It's starting to ruffle me up! You haven't used your brain once!"

"I'm using my head plenty, you're just not satisfied with my answers! You're delusional!"

Clas gripped Spero's arm tighter. "Watch what you say, boy." Spero turned to Clas who gazed through him. Immediately regretting looking him in the eyes, he turned back to the faceless man.

"In my vast experience of the world," The man started, "only those who are delusional call others delusional. Not that that's incredibly sage wisdom, but you don't seem the smartest type so I thought I'd lay out the facts. I don't think you're stupid. You just seem frustrated... clouded."

"... Don't pretend like you know me. I just don't understand..." Spero clenched his fists. "What does this have to do with my surviving here? What conditions do I have to meet? What do you want me to say? Everything out of your mouth is so cryptic, so distant... is that just how everyone in the Sphere talks?" Spero looked down at his dirty, mud stained shoes. How could he have let them get like this?

"Heh, apologies for the way I talk, it's just an annoying quirk of mine. It helps me stand out. Also I get pleasure from seeing everyone confused." Spero looked back up and met the man's eyes. "What's that look for?"

"Nothing..." responded Spero.

"Anyways, from the moment you lost your temper and attempted to walk up to me on my stage, I knew everything I needed to know. Reckless. That's you. First you swim in the Lake, then you lie while in captive, and now here you were ready to attack the most important figure in this entire town. Someone like that shouldn't be roaming free in my opinion. What do you think, Clas?"

Clas took no time to respond, saying with confidence, "I agree. This kid has no manners. And I doubt he'd learn."

"Ugh, you and your manners. Forget I asked."

"I..." Spero slouched his shoulders and shut his eyes tight. "I don't get it..." Spero found this situation unfair. Without being given any hints, he was expected to meet standards outside of his current understanding. Was there even a right way to go about it? Was he dead from the moment he entered the Sphere? Would every path lead to a dead end?

"Then let me explain something. Surviving is not automatic. I've seen countless people give up that burden. Some burn out and refuse to hunt. Some lose sight of the future. All did it by choice." Spero opened his eyes back up and took in what the man was saying.

"-- But despite that, you would disagree. Did you even think about it? When you lost your temper and proceeded towards me, what was your plan? You didn't have one. Meaning you would have died had Clas not stopped you. Your goal is to survive, Spero. But sometimes our emotions get in the way of our goals. Emotions don't get in the way of automation. Emotions won't stop your heart from beating. So from that, I'm sure you're confused. What's the lesson here? Why am I saying this? Because those that lose sight of their goals will never survive here. Never. You're just too reckless.

Spero didn't agree with the man, but he refused at this point to speak against him. Was he really trying to survive? Would it be any surprise if he didn't survive here?

Wait,,,

"What do you mean by 'here'? As in inside the sphere? So you believe me?!"

"I'm the only one, apparently. Clas doesn't believe and neither does anyone else, but I do. That's the only reason you're here, Spero. I doubt there's anything you could say to convince them, but I don't need any convincing on that part. I just want a reason to keep you alive. Clas, get your sword off of the kid's neck please."

Without hesitation, Clas did as the man said and took a step back. Spero let out a large breath and felt his neck with his cuffed hands. There was blood, but it didn't seem like the cut was very deep. If such a cut was deadly, he'd already be suffocating on his own blood. Spero's legs, weak from the stress, gave out as he fell to his knees. The man looked down on him.

"Thank you, Clas." The masked man took a step forwards and reached both hands to his mask and began to remove it from his face.

Clas gasped and blurted out, "Panell!"

"It's fine. I know what I'm doing." The man Clas referred to as Panell removed the mask from his face and tossed it to the ground. He kneeled down to Spero's level as they locked eyes. Spero saw his face for the first time. He had deep blue eyes and long eyelashes. His features were sharp even with his wrinkles and worn skin. After studying him Spero looked down to the floor.

"Why do you wear a mask?" Spero asked Panell what was on his mind in that moment. If it was to protect his identity, he failed by removing it. It could have been to hide something the man didn't like, but he had no reason to hold distaste for his face. Nothing was wrong with it.

Panell looked down at the mask on the floor and back to Spero. "If you truly don't know that, then you really aren't from here." With a wide smile on his face, the man looked up to Clas. "I told you!"

Clas shook his head in response and sighed before turning his back to the two kneeled on the cold ground.

"It's custom. We've always done it, every leader from every Sector. It also helps them go out into the world without a mask so they don't get assassinated." Panell put his hand on Spero's shoulder. Spero widened his eyes and looked at the wrinkled hand.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. This is life or death here." Panell gripped Spero's shoulder. "What is your life goal?" Spero wasn't even looking at him, but the gaze of the old man in front of him sent a chill down his spine. Spero assumed he had a bit of time to think; what was his life goal? Why was it so hard to think of one?

Back in the city, his goal was to explore. He wanted to leave the walls that constricted him-- he wanted to be free. He wanted to see things no one had ever seen. He wanted people to notice him... All of those dreams had died away as did Spero's spirit. It all became nothing more than a dream; it was all something out of reach. With that in mind, he gave up.

Then why did he go into the Sphere? How different was that to exploring outside the city walls? Why didn't it satisfy that itch? He didn't have an answer. Everything in Spero's mind was clouded. His actions felt out of his control. He was a puppet to an unknown master. What was his life goal?

"My goal..." Spero closed his eyes. "... is to survive."

...

"...Hm." Panell stood up with a grunt and sighed. "Clas. Take him back to the woods and kill him. You know where to put the body. Clean up any messes."

Clas gripped the back of Spero's collar and pulled him to his feet with staggering strength.

"FH! NO!" Spero screamed.

"I'm sorry you couldn't come to understand, Spero. I'd hoped to learn more about the city from you, but it isn't worth it." Spero squirmed and thrashed as Clas pulled him backwards out of the large building. Panell grabbed his mask from the ground and slid it back to his face before walking away.

"STOP! GH... I'M..."

Spero's head spun. Everything was a blur. He was being choked from behind-- dragging his dirty feet as he was pulled outside.

I'm gonna die!

Clas's iron grip lead Spero's struggling body through the streets of the town, back the direction they came. Grunts and whimpers echoed out. The street was empty. The sun had started fall over the horizon, and a light drizzle pattered down. Spero tried with all of his strength to escape Clas's grasp, but he was weak. That fact had become very apparent. He tried using the thick cuffs that bound his hands as a weapon, but Clas quickly held his arms down as he was lead out into the forest.

Spero tried every strategy to break free. He kicked, spun, went limp, but nothing worked. The man who would soon become his demise was too determined. As Spero had some distance from the town, he looked back. Many heads poked out of windows and behind buildings.

The town soon became invisible behind the rows and rows of thick, tall trees. The light drizzle had turned to a steady downpour. The sun had mostly set, and the darkness of night was showing itself. Spero was exhausted from struggling, but he was sure that Clas had to be tired too. Both of their breaths were heavy and labored, but Clas had the clear advantage in stamina. Still, Spero didn't stop his struggle.

"Please... I'll..." Clas pulled Spero off the path and took a turn into the unmarked woods. "I'll do anything!" He felt pathetic begging for his life. He felt pathetic even caring about his life. "Please don't kill me!" Spero screamed as loud as he could at the man leading him, but it was in vain. A decision had already been made. Spero knew there was nothing he could do. "I'll tell you everything about the Sphere! There's a lot of stuff to talk about! A lot of history! Please!"

After reaching a secluded part of the woods, Clas threw Spero down to the now muddied dirt. Spero looked up at the reaper standing above him. All he saw was a black silhouette concealed by the night and the now pouring rain. He used his forearms and knees to try and crawl away.

"GHU--"

A swift kick cut the air and made contact with Spero's stomach. He immediately saw stars and fell on his side.

"Wait! Wait! Your leader wants to know about the Sphere! I can tell you things! Me dying now would be a waste!" Immediately putting aside the pain throughout his body, Spero tried once again to convince the tower above.

"You may have fooled Panell," Clas responded, "but I'm not so stupid. Neither is anyone else here." The silhouette reached to his side and pulled a long blade from his sheathe. It was the same one that he had held Spero's neck with, and it was the same one that he would die by. Spero grunted and put his hands up in front of his face.

I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die!

"I... I can help you! Please just don't kill me!"

"Help me, huh? I doubt it. You're awfully cowardly for an intruder, aren't you? How'd you land this job?" Clas raised the tip of his blade to Spero's face.

"Like I'm saying, I'm from the Sphere! I'm from the Sphere, I'm from the Sphere!! How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?!"

The silhouette shook his head and raised his blade. "I told you I don't humor antics. I'm done with you." With a deep inhale, Clas pulled the blade back. With one swift strike, Clas cut the drops of water that fell from the sky, with the sharp end of the blade heading for the top of Spero's head.

"No! No NO--!!"

A warm liquid splattered across Spero's face and chest, juxtaposing the cold drops of rain. Wind pushed his hair back as the rain pelted down over his whole body. Spero squinted and looked up in front of him. Was he still alive? Could he just not feel the killing blow? Was he currently bleeding out? In front of him. Spero heard a pained grunt.

"What--"

Clas's voice creaked out of his throat as his silhouette fell to the mud. Spero sat confused. Looking at him, Spero didn't understand what was wrong. Clas grunted as he clutched his chest. Heavy breathing rang out. Spero smelled a tinge of rusted metal along with the fresh rain. The warm liquid had already drained down from his face and chest.

Clas rolled around on the mud, grunting in pain. Did Spero unknowingly fight back? How would that have worked? Clas was clearly in pain from something. Should Spero have been worried about himself? Not understanding the potential threat, Spero attempted to stand up, but was unsuccessful. The best he could do was prop himself up to his knees.

Spero looked around as Clas struggled for what caused his pain. All he could see was the dark tree trunks surrounding him in every direction. He wouldn't be able to hear much either due to the loud static noise that the pouring rain produced. Spero's head still spun and his stomach churned. He felt pain throughout his entire body. He had to move if he wanted to live. This was his chance.

Using more strength than he had left, Spero managed to stand. He stumbled and his back slammed into a trunk behind him. Clas' silhouette still rolled around on the ground. He didn't seem to be paying any mind to Spero. With the chaos, Spero started away from Clas. He backed up past the tree behind him. Clas didn't seem to notice. He was too focused on the pain surging through his body, whatever it was. All Spero had to do now was--

A hand grasped Spero's bicep. With a gasp, he jumped back and looked at what grabbed him. Did Clas manage to get back up? Spero saw a person to his side. It couldn't have been Clas, as Spero could still hear his whimpers in front of him. Was this someone with Clas, or the one that hurt him?

"Come on!" whispered the unknown voice of a woman. She pulled him and gestured with her free hand for him to follow. Spero looked at the dark-covered woman and at Clas. Without having time to think, he followed. With Spero showing compliance, the woman let go of Spero's arm and started running into the dark, wet forest. Spero took one last look at Clas' struggle before running after her.