“Welcome scroungers, to the lively city of Venisi: The only place left with luxury!”

Voices erupted from oddly shaped boxes with holes poked around the middle. Rye examined them from afar as he had never seen these devices before, and for there to be noise coming from them did more than just bewilder him.

The advancements the ancients had before their collapse must’ve been great...

“Oooh, the people used to have these!” Traz erupted in excitement as she pointed to the metal square. “They would make them loud when they would have their parties.”

“I’m surprised you know something I don’t.” Rye admitted, looking down to see Traz stare with her beaming eyes at the devices.

As the two made their way off the cart, they were quickly greeted by a drunk security guard accompanied by...questionable companions. Rye was sure they would ask for their information and detailed credentials, but instead, all they said was;

“You guys seem alright enough! Booze is down the road, and if you can, bring me an extra bottle. Mine’s running empty!” He exclaimed, slurring his words while wiping snot from under his nose. Then he left, and presumably went about drinking the remaining alcohol left in his flask.

Rye couldn’t help but have a few questions about security, though he was happy enough to get in without any problems.

As Rye glanced around the city, he couldn’t help but feel a bitterness swell within his chest as this was a city he visited nearly ten years ago. Everything about it changed in so many ways. Right off the start, he noticed they had started using weird technology that was able to create light without fire, and their buildings had been stacked up on top of one another.

But what astonished him the most, were the buildings protruding from along the walls, and even some from the ceilings. There was even a newly added...decoration the people of Venisi constructed since last he visited.

—Directly at the center of the ceiling, there was a clear view of the above protected only by a glass in a dome-like shape above the city. The Mist was currently overhead the dome, visible only by the foggy breeze.

“This place is amazing! What are those things? And those shiny lights? And what is that weird thing that’s so high?” Traz let her eyes wander around in the new environment. But what really caught her attention was the dome that gave view to the above. “I wanna go there!”

“You can’t.” Rye flat-out rejected. “That stuff’ll make you go insane. Maybe when you grow up, and there is no storm, then maybe you could explore the above.”

Traz puffed her cheeks while Rye wondered when and how the city became so technologically advanced than when he last visited. Ten years couldn’t have turned a basic industrial city into a powerhouse of innovative machinery. They had to have gotten some help. They must have had ancient architecture documents to build this.

“What’s up there?” Traz questioned, hoping to learn more.

“A barren waste filled with beasts struggling to survive, and the parasite storm that wanders.”

“That sounds fun!”

Traz clasped her hands in excitement, jumping up and down. She clearly expressed her desire for adventure, causing Rye to sigh.

“Don’t confuse a suicide trip for adventure. This is your new home now kid, so after I find a shop to resupply, we’ll find you a new home.”

“But I…” As Traz opened her mouth to speak, a well fitted woman interrupted with a warm welcome attitude.

“—Welcome! Are you and your daughter here for business or vacation reasons?”

The girl wore a uniquely colored robe; some of which Rye had never seen before. The robe covered from her neck down, and she wore a mask which covered the top half of her face, hiding only her eyes.

“I don’t recall it being your concern.” Rye quickly shut her down. “Now if you’ll excuse us…”

“Wowie! You’re so pretty and colorful and shiny!” Traz exclaimed, wide eyed at the colors.

“Heh, I find your daughter to be a teensy bit more open than you sir. Since you two seem new here, would you care for a tour?”

“No—.”

Rye bit his lip and shut himself from saying anymore. He thought about how much Venisi had changed since last he saw. It wouldn’t hurt if he asked for directions.

“But I will take directions. Know where a resupply shop for...travelers are?”

The woman’s mouth fell agape for a moment, but quickly formed a smile.

“Change of thought? Follow me, I’ll show you to it! Then afterwards, we can visit the plethora of entertainment centers we have all throughout our wonderful city.”

“The resupply will be enough. Also, she’s not my daughter, but an orphan. We need a new shelter for her as well.”

Rye noticed her mood turn sour upon hearing the term ‘orphan’, muttering “Tsk, another incapable rodent,” under her breath before resuming her regular smile.

“That will be no problem!” She continued. “We have the best homes for children who may find themselves in Venisi! Now, if you’ll just sign this document for an advancement in a super beneficial construction in ancient technology, we can begin!”

With a pen and paper in hand, she extended her offer directly to Rye. He lowered his fixture to the paper, then back to the woman.

“Sorry; not interested. We can find the shops and orphanages without your help. Bye.” He took hold of Traz’s arm, leaving into the streets of Venisi.

“Wai—Damnit! Bastard man! Not to mention that resource sucking child! Fine…I’ll just find another way for them to support us.”

Throughout the fluorescent streets of Vinisi, the scent of freshly made bread along with an assortment of other bakery items filled the air as Rye and Traz explored the city. It was a starch difference from the rusty machines and sweaty workers that had filled the Venisi he last knew.

“Mr. Rye, why did we leave the poor lady alone?” Traz curiously looked up to Rye.

“Because people that are aggressively nice tend to be after some kind of goal.”

“But she seemed so nice that there was no more room to be mean.”

“Well kid, you oughta learn having so much positivity means you can have just as much negativity. Maybe even more.”

Traz put a finger to her lips, thinking about what Rye meant.

But she wasn't at a total loss like usual. She seemed like she understood a part of it, even trying to make sense of it all.

Across the livelihood of Venisi, the people were advanced as the city itself. The citizens wore a similar uniform robe with the varying associated colors: blue, purple, and green. There was nothing too different from the colors, though the green robes seemed to have more ornaments

Is color a fashion statement? Or does it signify something else like social status, and if so, what the hell kind of rank was the woman from earlier…?

Whatever the meaning of the fancy colored robes, it wouldn’t help Rye and Traz from being the odd ones out. Rye could feel countless gazes from every side peering into him, while Traz still pondered in her head.

“We’re here.”

“Hmm?”

Old and dusty; definitely an eyesore from the rest of the city, was an old supply shop with a broken-down sign that read: Re oad

“Mr. Rye? This place seems...spooky.”

“These shops aren’t supposed to be for fun. Just purely business. Why don’t you wait out here for a moment while I restock on resources.” Rye thought back to the excessive bandit camp and Ravager attack, wishing how he didn’t have to exhaust his weapons at an alarming rate.

“But Mr. Rye, I wanna watch! I wanna see how you get to build those hot thingy’s! Please…!” Her eyes widened with a glisten.

“Sorry; look here.” Rye casually pointed towards a smaller sign, which read: No one under the age of seventeen may be permitted inside. “You’re too young. Grow several years older and they’ll start letting you into places.”

“Aww…” Traz’s beaming eyes quickly died as she slumped against the wall of the building. “I’ll wait for you here...”

“Sweet girl.” Rye ruffled her hair, managing a smile. “I’ll be back.”

As Rye opened the door, a chime of a bell alerted the shop owner, who came rushing to greet him. The door quickly came to a close, leaving Traz alone as usual.

“Sure you will,” She muttered to herself as she lowered her head. “They always say that.”

“One shiny green, two funny purples, and six silly blues.” Traz counted the colorfully dressed people as they walked past. “Now what comes after six…”

She had been waiting by the door for what felt like forever. She tried to get a peek inside the shop to see when Mr. Rye would finish, but the glass on the door was too dark to see anything, so she was forced to a life of waiting.

“Seven! Seven silly blues now!” Traz lit up with her new count. “But what happens after seven…”

Racking her brain to find the next number, a strange new sound played from afar. As Traz listened to these sounds, she noticed it wasn’t just a sound, but a mix of sounds—all of which she had no recognition of.

Slowly, she picked herself up along the wall of the house, while her head perked in interest. Curiosity filled her ears as they flittered with different sounds enticing her.

The sound was melodic, somewhat like the melodies the people would use to sing aloud, but also somewhat different. This was much louder and faster paced than what they always sang, and it would also be incredibly difficult for her to fall asleep too.

Soon enough, Traz found herself moving towards the sound of the noise.

“How pretty…”

She mindlessly followed the source, ignoring the crowded streets and would even bump into a few people.

—But she kept pursuing. Whatever noise it was, she had to find it.

“...fuck what you know, either you love me or leave me alone, turning your back when I need you the most, I’m in my bed with the sheets on my head like a ghost…”

A distance away from where she first waited, Traz came to find the source of the sound finishing up their performance.

There, she saw a group of three, all in blue robes. They were moving around and playing with wooden shapes that Traz had never seen before. In the middle of the three, stood a pretty haired lady with the color as that of her robe, to which Traz instantly grew to adore. She held a strange toy requiring both hands to hold, and watched as she plunked the strings while singing words she didn’t recognize, but still, she sang with incredible force behind each one. The other two in robes had similar toys to the pretty lady, but one was smaller in size, while the other was entirely larger, each producing different types of sounds.

The three played with their toys in the center of a walking path, where many other colored robes passed by.

Her eyes glued to the movements, Traz let her body drift into the pretty melody, taking her away into a soft meddled dream of blissful sounds…

“...just swallow me dead!!” She flung the strings on her guitar a final time before coming to a halt. Sweat ran down her forehead as she panted, taking a moment to gather herself before noticing that someone had been watching.

“That...was...pretty!” Traz clapped with excitement as she could hardly contain her smile.

“Wha..” The three stared in awe as a little girl, who dressed and acted in a way they had never seen before, openly expressed her enjoyment in their music.

“Ms. Lady and her friends, your sounds were so pretty I can’t stop smiling! Do it again, do it again!”

The three looked at each other, then back at the little girl. The one in the center, or ‘lady’, was the first of the three to speak: “Say, did you like our performance, or were you drawn by the difference of music than what your school teaches?”

“Hmm.” Traz put a finger to her head, with a smile still plastered across her face. “Mr. Rye hasn’t taught me ‘perffformance’ or ‘diffference’ or ‘music’ or ‘school’ yet, but I really, really liked it!”

“Oh.” a strange, yet happy expression formed on her face. Her eyes began to look like that of water, with a droplet smoothly flowing down her cheek.

“Oh oh, I learned that from the people! You are crying, am I wrong?”

Traz tilted her head, wondering if the term she learned from the people could be applied here.

The lady slowly nodded as she wiped a tear from off her cheek.

“Aren’t you a sweet little thing, though this music is a tad too old for a girl such as yourself.”

“Why should that matter? It was still super pretty! Can you do more?”

“Well...to be honest, that song isn’t ours. It’s a cover of an ancient piece of work, though we have no idea on how to replicate its original sound. So instead, we make do with our guitar, violin, and bass.”

“Ancient, and...? Mr. Rye has yet to tell me about those yet as well.” Traz lowered her head, feeling a bit ashamed that she couldn’t be more knowledgeable about the world. “But he will soon enough! He’s taught me so much since we met, and I can’t wait for him to teach me more!”

The lady looked at her friends, then back at Traz.

“Young girl, would you like to listen to more music? We may be a fresh music group, but I swear to the sun, we’ll make our break-through soon enough!”

“You mean it?! Yaaaay!”

Filled with an ecstatic surge, Traz found herself jumping up and down in excitement. Even if the lady mentioned many words she didn’t recognize, the joy of listening to more “Music” created excitement that reached throughout her core.

***

In the midst of a quaint shop, a rising storm of troubles rummaged through Rye’s mind. He felt an overwhelming feeling of suffocation from the many “what if” thoughts in his mind.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

From the corner, a heavy gaze weighed on Rye, increasing the pressure on what he should decide next. It was a life or death decision after all…

Damnit. This old man really has me beat…

Feeling his grip on sanity crumble, Rye had no other option but to accept his defeat before the battle had even started.

“Fine; I’ll take the Ravager oil and Springworm fluids.”

“Is that all?” An older man, who wore a black robe draped over his old build, firmly asked.

“Yes...”

“I understand. Your final list is four pounds of grained copper, two jugs of water, ten meters of nylon rope, two bottles of Ravager oil, and three bottles of Springworm fluids, am I correct?”

“You...are correct.” Rye admitted defeat.

“Wonderful. Your grand total will be a pound of iron, and that ancient compass you boasted earlier.”

The old man made his listings, wanting a small scrap of common iron, and a compass that Rye had found from his previous dive into the above, where he found a functional ancient compass.

“Sure thing.” Rye easily made the trade with the old man, earning him the materials for more bullets and explosives. Now all he needed was a small area that he could use as a workshop to build them.

“Hey old man, mind if I prepare everything here for a quick moment?”

“You know, I reckon we can’t be too far of age from each other, right?” he let out a sigh. “But fine, you can use my workbench by the door.”

The old man gave a slight nod to his request.

“Anything for another diver.”

“Another? Are you implying you’re one?” Rye asked, shocked at knowing there was another diver close to his age alive.

“I was. But that felt like a third of my life ago. All I live for now is this tiny offset shop for adventurers such as yourself.”

The old man rested himself on a chair, while Rye set his newly bought supplies on a clear table.

“Though it’s not often for me to see them again afterwards.”

Rye glanced at the man, who now resigned to his chair with his eyes closed, as if he were already asleep.

“Such is our life. Death is almost as natural in the line of work as is sleeping, though veterans grow accustomed to it.”

“And now, all that awaits us is the death that tends to be shy towards some, while impatient towards others. But who are we to ponder the fact of death, when it’s merely a grasp away from people like us.”

Lost in the experiences of his past, the old man disappeared within his own mind, while Rye carried out the time-demanding work of replenishing his supplies.

***

Excitement and curiosity swelled within the girl as she followed the lady into a strange room.

“Our apartment isn’t much, but at least it’s something. And the mess...would be Zett’s fault.” The girl sighed as she dropped her gaze, pointing towards the boy with black hair that stretched down to his shoulders.

“H-hey now, that was Cadd! I ain’t done nothing!”

“Like hell! Don’t pin your side of the room on me, when in fact, mine is cleaner than both of yours!” Another boy refuted, whose physique was hardly taller than Traz herself, and had thin red hair.

From the entire room in total, only about a third of the area was clear from the towering stacks of books and what seemed like black circles.

The three shot glares at one another, until the lady snapped out of her cold expression and into a mote sweet tone.

“I’m Saash by the way! And these dumbasses are Zett and Cadd. Again, this is our apartment where we write our song ideas and practice playing, even if it has a slightly messy appearance.” Saash awkwardly laughed as she looked at mainly one area.

“It’s like a maze!” Traz excitedly exclaimed, trying to find a way around the mess that was equally her height. “What is this stuff anyways?”

“This ‘stuff’ is a total gift by the ancients! Old music albums, EP’s, and some singles by varying artists and genres. This pile has it all! We were given the chance to dig these out when they ordered everyone to work on the dome above, but boy was it worth the fear of nearly falling to our deaths!”

“Wowee!” Traz grew captivated by the story as her eyes lit up. “The ancients must have been wonderful people…! Say, are there any left?”

“Heh,” Zett, who plucked away at his wooden box, chuckled as he answered: “Not a chance. They’ve been gone for a while now.”

“Oh…?” Traz’s gaze drifted upward. “Where did they go?”

“Well uh…” Zett trailed off as he tried thinking of a cover for Traz, but nothing came.

“—They all went on vacation somewhere!” Saash interrupted, pinching Zett in the arm causing him to yelp. “Yep! They probably all went somewhere fun for all their hard work they’ve done. And they even left their old work here for us to share; aren’t they considerate!”

“Aww, I wish I were as nice as them…”

“Hehe, I'm sure you will be…” Saash tried thinking of a name, but realized Traz had never introduced herself. “Um, I don’t believe you gave us your name…?”

“Traz!”

“Traz? What a name for an energetic girl such as yourself. Well, I’m absolutely positive you’ll grow up to be a wonderful person Traz. Maybe even better than the ancients!”

“Really? Wowee…” Traz thought about the many good things she would need to do in order to be as nice as the ancients, counting each good deed at a time.

Off to the side, Cadd casually leaned into Zett’s ear as he continued plucking his violin.

“Psst. Any idea why Saash would go on about that lie? I understand you tried finding a more clear way to explain it to a child, but for Saash to lie about it…”

“—and one day, you’ll completely outshine the ancients. I reckon you’ll be a bigger treasure than anything the ancients could have thought up, I swear—”

“...she must want to protect that child's innocence to its core. Even if she has to lie about the hell those bastards created for us.”

Zett observed Saash and her interaction with Traz. “I dunno, she seems normal to me. Sounds like you're just jealous that some little girl is taking the affection of your crush.”

“Wha-wh-what?!” Cadd unknowingly stuttered aloud. “Dumbass! The hell does that have to do with anything?!”

“Dude, your reaction just proves my point to the ‘beyond a reasonable doubt’ state.”

“Shut! All you're good for is getting people riled up, I swear…”

“Are you two idiots done screaming at each other? Or…?” Saash and Traz watched as Cadd glared at Zett.

“Say, Traz? Would you care for a sample of a song we made on our own?” Zett ignored a pissed off Cadd, changing his focus to Traz.

“You mean it?! Please do!”

“Smart thinking Zett!” Saash gave a thumbs up to Zett, quickly dashing to grab her guitar.

Watching Saash smile at Zett, Cadd quietly surrendered from arguing, grabbing his bass in defeat.

“Now then Traz! Prepare your ears for an ear gas...er, not-old-enough ear dancing experience! Now then,” with a deep inhale, Saash positioned her fingers carefully above the strings. “3-2-1…”

***

“One, two...and three. Finally done…”

Bending the soft cushion back in his seat, Rye stretched his body to clear out the built up stiffness.

Took longer than expected. Though I did prepare double than what I normally would work with.

Holding his newly crafted weapons to the lamp’s light allowed him to really appreciate his fine chemistry. It’s not like any person could make an incendiary on the fly. Though, not everyone was a diver.

A clock hanging above the table ticked every now and so, but Rye only now had noticed a great deal of time had passed.

“Better check on Traz. We could go to a bakery,” Rye thought back to how she practically foamed at the mouth when passing the bakery district. “It might be a treat for her behavior.”

Standing from his seat, Rye stuffed the crafted supplies into his bag, zipping it up once he made sure everything was securely fitted.

“Leaving already?” A voice quietly spoke behind him. “Did you find everything up to standard?”

“Very so; thank you. I can trade you a spare rifle and a handgun for my stay. Would they do?”

“It's cheap, but I can make do if it's for another diver.” The old man accepted his trade, and Rye handed over the guns he took from Jay just for a moment like this, mentally thanking him for his help. “Thank you for the business, and make sure to stay alive out there.”

After Rye said his goodbyes, he left from the man's shop, and immediately noticed the bright glare hovering from the above. The dense fog of Mist drowned the ray of light he had heard numerous times from scribes, with ancient texts often referring to it as the “sun.”

The streets themselves glowed as vibrant as silver, and the citizens danced around in the light, enjoying and breathing every part of light they could take in.

Rye took note of their behavior, but ultimately ignored them. Instead, he looked for Traz at where he last saw her. She wasn’t there. He quickly glanced around the street from left to right. She wasn’t anywhere.

He dashed onto the streets in hopes of seeing even a clue of her, but found nothing. Only dancing blue figures filled the streets.

“Traz! Traz!! Where did you go? Traz?!” Rye shouted while blue figures swayed in motion, which made Rye feel wrapped around them. “Get away. Stop. Has anyone seen a little girl wearing a dusty gray dress? Hey—! I swear if you bastards took her away to brainwash her with your bullshit…I’ll kill every single one of you!”

The figures turned their heads in swift unison towards Rye, in which they all raised their arms to point to the sky illuminating their streets, and all held a similar slip of paper.

“Outsider? Why stare at us with that serious expression, when all you need is the Mist!”

“Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist—!”

“Why bear such dead eyes, when the answer is merely a glance away!”

“—Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist! Mist—!”

An illuminating shroud of silver surrounded Rye with similar expressions of happiness, while a younger woman in particular with an orange robe, a color he’d yet to see in the city, did all the talking while the other colors shouted the same word over and over.

“Get the hell away from me! Just...have you seen a little girl with fancy lookin’ clothes around here?”

“A little girl…” The orange woman gave it some thought, before turning back to the crowd behind her. “Hey believers! This man questions us about a girl in different clothing. Would there be any memories of such a girl someone would wish to share?”

“I might know!” An elder man shouted. “Though I might remember clearer if I could get your word on a subject…”

“And what would that be by Jed?” She asked in a cheery tone.

“Well sir, I was just wondering what might be your stance on the dome removal project?”

“I don’t give a Ravagers ass on what your political movement is. Just tell me where Traz is!” Rye pushed back the cultish group that had been enclosing him

“Oh,” The man's face became sour as he was pushed. “You’re one of them, I take it?”

“One of what…forget it—Just tell me where she is!”

“Sorry, but until you sign a removal slip and redeem yourself, I can’t find it within myself to remember.”

Rye bit his lip trying to hold back everything he had from killing the bastard. He was sure he could taste iron, but his thoughts were focused on tightening his grip around his machine pistol.

“Now, now, Jed. Give the man some space. Not everyone has the capable mind to truly know how wonderful the Mist is. So let me handle it. Say, I don’t believe we were properly acquainted. My name is—“

“—I don’t give a damn.” Rye shouted, his patience quickly dwindling. “Just tell me if you know where she is and I’ll leave everyone alone. Please, just take my offer on this.”

“Of course!” The woman in orange clasped her hands in delight. “All I would love in return is just a small signature right here…”

She lifted her paper in front of Rye. There was a scramble of illegible words mixed together, with a drawn line meant for his signature.

“...you bitch.”

“Excuse me…?”

—Before she knew it, a pistol had been aimed over the mask right between where her eyes would be.

Rye cleared his throat in an attempt to make himself get through to the blind followers.

“Allow me to ask one last time: Have you seen a little girl with a fairly cut up dress? A lot different from your cult apparel.”

“You’re making a terrible choice sir. I would rethink your actions if I were you...”

“I’d rethink your action of talking before a bullet meshes your brain. Now I’ll ask again: Has anyone seen a different little girl?” Rye bashed the barrel against her forehead.

The woman in orange gritted her teeth in frustration, but not fear. “How dare you...and for some small waste of materials! Until our great Eliza hears of this, you should enjoy every moment of this ignorant play!”

“Eliza? Listen, I frankly don’t give any shits about you people, so hurry and tell me where Traz is.”

Growing increasingly irked at the woman's off responses, Rye pressed his machine pistol with intense force closer to her face in hopes of getting an actual answer out of her.

But all she did was smug at his response, and even burst with laughter as she went off on a tangent:

“You don’t? You don’t?! Why, how murky must your ideals be?! Poor soul. Lost soul! To be lost and ignorant of the gift the Mist could be to us...for that is what our great Eliza is pushing for! Our Eliza is doing everything she can to reach the above, all for our sake! Our Eliza! The great Eliza! Once she hears of this, oh how she’ll convince you to rethink your arrogant mindset! Eliza’ll change you. Eliza’ll make a better you! Eliza will—”

Her words fell to an immediate halt. Crimson mixed with the silvery streets as what sounded like flesh being rippled followed as her body awkwardly slumped to the side, pulsating.

Reactions around were stunned at first, each muttering amongst themselves in question of what had just happened before them.

But the quiet lasted only for a moment, as screams embellished the air. The people covered in their robes cried out of fear from the woman in orange, who was now drenched in a puddle of her own blood.

“M-murderer! Murderer!” Each one cried while fleeing in all directions.

Rye blinked once it happened. He could even admit he was surprised.

His thoughts quickly returned to normal, adjusting his aim in the air as he kneeled on one leg to support his quickdraw. He scanned the building's outlines, looking for any position a person could be.

Where the hell are you...where the hell are you...where the hell are you… He repeated, checking for any motion of threat. Rye continued scanning for anything, but ended up giving up after a while of finding nothing. Already gone, or I’d be dead by now too if they wanted.

He lifted himself back, and went to check the body of the woman in orange.

Upon inspection, he instantly noticed the crude entrance the bullet had made while entering the back of her neck. He tried digging around for the type of bullet, but gave up once realizing it burrowed deeper into her body. If he had to guess, the shooter took their shot on one of the balconies atop a residential high-rise, and since he seemed to be the only one aware of the muffled ‘ting’, he assumed they had used a suppressor to silence the shot. Though, there was still one thing about it bothering him, which was why kill her, but leave him alone?

Maybe they missed? Maybe, but why run away and not take another shot. Then maybe she was their target? So then why pick now as the place to kill her?

Rye tried, but failed to come up with a reason as to why someone would kill her so suddenly. She only went on a rant about the dome removal project, and how great this Eliza person was. So then why…

“Mr. Rye!!”

A sudden, yet happy shout came from down the street.

“Look how pretty this place is! It’s like I’m sleeping, but brighter!” Traz exclaimed while giggling.

“Holy shit…” A strange girl, who allowed her blue hair to flow down to her waist muttered, grasping Traz’s shoulder with unknowing force. “T-Traz! D-don’t look!”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Miss Saash?”

Traz flinched from Saash tightening her grip around her arm, but managed to wiggle free from her grip. She ran towards Rye, as well as the fresh corpse.

The girl whom Rye didn’t recognize began to attempt to stop Traz, but couldn't get herself to move. She clasped her mouth as her focus grew more on the body before her, eventually taking steps back in fear.

“Mr. Rye! Mr. Rye! I’ve learned so many wonderful things from Saash and her friends! Ooh, especially music! I really, really love music, Mr. Rye!”

Traz trotted right up to Rye with excitement and a bright smile as she casually stepped over the body. “Please! Can we stay here for a while Mr. Rye? Please, please!”

Watching her shine with such vibrant joy, Rye couldn’t help but sigh. Getting so old is really putting its toll.

“Sorry, but we have to leave the city as fast as possible. This place is much more bastardly than I remember.”

“Aww… I guess it can’t be helped, can it? Well what about the “orphige” place you wanted me to see? I don’t think I remember going there.” She said, casting her gaze upward.

Traz’s expression looked so innocent it made even looking at her painful. Rye felt ashamed that his main reason for going to Venisi was to drop her off somewhere, but seeing the state of the city and how corrupt the ideals were, his mind quickly reversed his old plans.

“You shouldn’t worry your little mind about it now. There’s a more serious problem rising here, and I would rather us be nowhere near this place.” Wanting to redeem himself, he did his best impression of a smile.

Traz let out a vibrant smile, and went to hug Rye before nearly tripping over a lump on the ground. Looking down, she noticed the body on the ground with a red liquid that poured from out her neck. “Mr. Rye, what happened to this poor lady?”

Sighing, Rye scratched his head. “Something that was bound to happen to her...”

As she watched blood ooze out of some persons neck, Saash was horrified not by that, but at how some man quickly ruined the perfect image of Traz. Her entire body quivered in anger as she dug her nails deep within the skin of her palms.

“What is he doing…” She muttered, grossly watching the scene playout. “Someone’s dead right there, he should be protecting her from the sight before he ruins her—”

“—Saash?” Zett cautiously gave a prod from behind, as he finally caught up to her. “Is something up…”

His touch alone brought her back. She staggered on an answer while intently glaring at the man who stole Traz away. “Heh? Oh...right. Yeah. Yeah… I’m fine!”

Fighting to get back his breath, Zett traced her line of sight to find the freshly rested corpse.

“W-w-what is that…?!”

Zett fell back as he cupped his hands over his mouth with his eyes stretched in horror. He fell backwards, landing on the cement paved road with a rough impact.

“F-finel?! This is anything but fine! Who’s that man with Traz, a-and who’s that on the floor...?” His gaze rapidly switched from Saash to the corpse, with fear steadily spreading across his face.

—But his mind shifted from one horror to the next as he saw the hatred plastered across her face.

Saash cocked her head backwards, sluggishly twisting her body to face Zett as if all was fine. He kept a close eye on her, knowing something was up as she practically had forced a smile through her anger.

“Saash…?”

Zett reached out for her shoulder, but was cut off from her sudden outburst.

“C’mon Zett, let’s go back to meet up with Cadd and find something to do.” Like, maybe…write a new song! But what should it be about? Let me think—Ooo, got it! How about we make one for Traz! Perfect—perfect—perfect! I love it! Let’s get writing.” Saash clasped her fingers, showing off her usual vibrant manner in a much more manic state.

Zett wondered what would think of this. Would he have the stomach to say something to her? Saash? What’s up with you....

The younger leader of the small time band in Venisi went back to their apartment, but housed a sinister plan within her mind: She had hoped she could find a way to ensnare Traz in the city. Her mouth had practically been frothing with drool as she vigorously chewed on her thumbs as a way to cover over her repeating words.

She is mine she will be mine she is destined for me she is everything to me she will be a slave to me she will do anything for me she will die for me she will live for me she will exist only for me she will suffer only for me she will endure only for me…

Saash repeated her constant muttering under the biting of her finger, eagerly waiting to put her plan into fruition.