Avery crept toward the table with the gun still pointed. He couldn’t quite grasp the situation. Why was the king offering him a seat? He was clearly in harm's way but didn’t seem to care.

Avery’s eyes never left him. They were stuck to him like a pair of stubborn leeches. With his eyes closed, the king slurped his drink loudly. He exhaled a refreshing sign and placed the cup on the petite plate.

Avery placed the weapon onto the transparent table, scooting his seat closer. Water dripped from his hair and onto the surface.

“Try the tea. I made it myself,” the king said, smiling under his thorn bush.

Avery looked at his cup. This was the first time Avery’s eyes left the king. He scratched the back of his neck, staring blankly at the full cup. This was a trap. There was no way it wasn’t one. Why would someone casually invite someone for tea at this time?

The drink could’ve been laced with poison. Wouldn't his tea come from the same pot if that's the case? But what if there was a hidden teapot?

“Pour some tea and take a sip,” Avery demanded.

The king sighed, pouring more tea into his cup. A brown stream rushed out the hole, mixing into the cup. The aroma of sweet herbs took over the area. The smell was alien-like, in a good way. Steam emitted from the cup. His lips lightly touched the rim, taking a softer sip than before.

Neither one of them said a word. The pitter-patter of the raindrops was the only thing keeping the room alive. A long five minutes had passed, and nothing seemed to happen. The tea didn’t seem harmful. But what if it wasn’t the tea? What if the cup itself was poisoned?

Thoughts intertwined around his brain, squeezing every possibility of what could be poisoned. His head was on the verge of exploding. This situation wasn’t ideal for him. His job was supposed to be in and out, not to have tea.

“If you are still doubting your safety, I don’t blame you,” the king finally broke the silence, “But have faith, from one man to another.” It was a soft, genuine voice that a man of his appearance wouldn’t seem to have.

Avery’s fingers hesitatingly grabbed the handle. The cup was shiny silver, which was small enough to fit in the palms of a child. It reminded him of the cups back home. There was a bakery down the street where he would always go to drink tea. They had similar cups like this one. The tea itself was dark like the night but warm like the spring.

He brought it closer to his mouth, taking a small sip. The brewed tea was surprisingly pleasant. The aroma of the dry leaves came out, and the flavor was vibrant. It was the perfect balance of bitter, sweet, savory, and a hint of sour.

He took another sip, this time in a much larger portion. He never tasted tea this amazing. The heat burned the back of his throat, making him take a break for a few coughs to escape. He slammed his chest a few times, coughing away from the table.

“You really are Kajo’s son,” he said with a giggle, “When he tried my tea for the first time, he wouldn’t put his cup down unless he had to cough.”

The weight of those words dropped his heart. He anxiously looked up directly into his caramel eyes, which paralyzed his body. It was like staring into Medusa, unable to move.

Avery asked with a mellow tone, “How… How do you know my father?”

He took another slurp. “We are leaders of different lands, so meeting occasionally is only fitting. There was something he was wrong about. Avery’s father was no true leader. Yes, he’s in charge of Ionia. He led the people the way a true leader should, taking discomfort and providing comfort. He took on a burden that allowed people to prosper and focus on society's needs. That’s what a true leader does."

However, one person stood above the rest, which wasn’t Kajo. That man covered his face with a black mask, preventing anyone from knowing his identity. Archon was the name, but there were doubts about whether it was his actual name. He’s the one who controlled SCAR, and whoever controlled SCAR controlled Ionia. He’s an egotistical, power-hungry piece of shit who kills whenever he gets the slightest chance.

Avery’s father controlled Ionia, but Archon controlled everything else. Unlike Archon, Avery’s father was always there for the people and city. He never cared about anyone but his agents and himself.

“My father isn’t the big boss of the city, He’s only—”

“Yes, I’m well aware he isn’t.” The king interrupted Avery, which wasn’t very noble of him. “He had informed me that a parasite had control over SCAR. Only a coward who knew they were in the wrong would conceal his face. That bastard kills for the sport. It ticks me off so much knowing your father can’t allow Ionia to prosper further. He’s such an amazing person and a great friend of mine.”

Avery slammed a fist onto the table. “You consider my father a ‘friend,’ but he never rebelled against Archon. Archon wants your head, and my father just sat on the sidelines doing nothing!”

There was no point in hiding his emotions. Avery was in this mess because his father refused to help him find a way out. Avery wouldn’t be in the outside world if his father had just spoken up for once.

“Seems like you’re misinformed.”

He raised a brow, questioning what he meant.

The king took another sip of tea, this time much longer, and placed the empty cup down. “What did you expect Kajo to do? Archon is unaware of our relationship, so if Kajo rebelled, it would be worse on his end. However, he never sat on the sidelines. That’s where you’re wrong. Kajo secretly met me a few months ago to explain Archon’s assassination plan. He suggested I go to a faraway land where my safety is guaranteed. I simply didn’t care.” He gazed at the chandelier, which replaced the moon. “I truly didn't.”

He looked back at Avery with a smile he’d never forget—a smile through his turf-like beard. One could tell if a smile was fake or not. One’s lips naturally more as their joyful spirits lifted their face, glimmering with light. But his smile was much different. Not a hint of light shone. He refused to let his face naturally react. All that leaked from those lips was emptiness.

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“You didn’t care? He came all the way here to warn you, and you didn’t care?!”

“Calm down and take your seat.”

Avery didn’t realize half his body was over the table. He sat back down, trying to hide his rage, before saying, “So what? You're just going to accept death?”

He tilted his head down, looking at his empty cup. “Why should I fight back for a life I never wanted?”

What he said to Avery caused many questions, but he had to pick the important one. “You don’t care for royalty?”

He gave a defeated, long sign with his eyes closed. The king of the outsiders crumbled like a broken biscuit.

“The royal life was nothing but a paved future against my will. It was one that I, many times, tried to reject. But because of certain circumstances, I couldn’t. So why save the life I never wanted?”

The king’s life was dictated by someone else. He never wanted any of this? It sounded so familiar.

People yearned for the future—a future where we placed promises we made and passionate deals with ourselves. It’s where everyone’s happiness is stashed. We dug out of the closet and stepped up a stool so we could reach their hopes and dreams. That’s the future for the unpaved path—a path in which one could write along the way without anyone, making infinite possibilities.

But that path was rejected for both of them. They were shackled down and forced to walk on their pre-paved path. The complaints would be non-existent if it were a path rooted in happiness. But both their paths were filled with regret and despair.

Avery gently hovered his fingers over his chest. “What was the life you wanted?”

The king’s lips faintly curled to one side. “Tea. I wanted a simple tea shop at the center of Walisburg where I could lead my ideal life.”

Avery smiled under his breath, not knowing what else to say. Even though he had millions of questions, he didn’t want to appear interrogative. The king, however, saved Avery from that feeling by asking his own question.

“This is your second time past the wall. I know the reason this time, but what did you do the first time?”

That innocent question slumped over Avery’s face.

He remembered those first times he ventured outside the walls with painful nostalgia. His task was to obtain information from one man and then eliminate him. That one father had a child who physically resembled Avery. Even a divine being could not sever the link they formed. They were the only ones who could shatter it. His two-year job would go down as ‘unforgettable.’

But if he could go back and never meet his friend, he would painfully choose that. Because of him, his friend lived in reality away from the truth.

Avery quietly sipped his tea. “Nothing much happened…”

“Is that regret I hear?”

“You’re acting like you’ve never regretted anything.” Avery placed the cup onto the table, trying to segway the conversation.

“In my lifetime, there is only one thing I regret. Twelve years ago, I met with Archon, which was a disaster.”

“Disaster? How so?”

The king noticeably shivered. “A pool of red. That’s all I saw. SCAR agents truly are merciless creatures.”

He wasn’t wrong. SCAR agents tended to go rogue. But recently, more agents have been going berserk than before. In Ionia, it has gotten extremely out of hand.

Avery softly signed, looking at the weapon next to him. He knew he would have to use it. Why? Why did Archon force him into this? Out of everyone, why him? And why did he threaten to kill Tim if I hadn’t done this? The devil was the one who planted the seeds for this day to bloom.

Ask something. Talk more. Delaying it till the weapon’s use was an absolute must.

“With you gone, who’ll be the next ruler?”

“Well… my second in command will,” there was hesitation in his voice.

Quick, ask something else. Say something else. Delay it.

“Is your second in command fit for a ruler?”

The king answered. “More fit than anyone I know.”

Now, quick, ask something else. And he did. Avery asked more questions than a detective. He wondered until his voice started to shake. Without thinking, his hands reached for the gun while he spoke, aiming at the unphased king.

His entire body trembled. Even though his target sat across the table, it felt like he was on the other side of a valley.

The king held Avery's hand firmly attached to the weapon while leaning across the table. He assisted Avery in keeping his grip steady. With a weapon of death pointed at him, he still gave off a warm smile. This man, indeed, has nothing to regret.

“I’m so… sorry.” Avery’s voice was shattering like a hammer smashing against glass.

He didn’t care. Even at the end, the man smiled as if he had a chance to wake up the next day.

The sound of death muffled against the suppressor. No one outside these walls could’ve heard it. The bullet pierced its way through his throat, causing a gaping hole in its wake, quickly filled with gushing blood. He collapsed onto the ground. Choking on his blood, he grabbed onto his neck, looking directly at Avery’s eyes. He had enough energy to give off one last grin.

This was the mess Avery made. He did that. His eyes watered. Were they tears or the water on his head dripping down? It felt like looking through a badly prescribed pair of glasses.

His brain fried up. His body was stone, and his heart pounded, still looking at the horror. This was the moment he was least proud of. He wanted to lean against someone and cry, but he had no one. He never had anyone. Tim was the only person who had, but that was only temporary. Now, he was about to leave him for good.

He never wanted any of this. Being forced to do something against his own will was a nightmare.

Archon threatened to chop Tim’s head if he refused. After all, he was a man of his word, so Avery didn't want to take the chance. He did what he had to do, and because of it, he tried to throw himself off a cliff.

Avery tried caring and pouring kindness beyond measurement, but this was the end game. Not a single thing could heal his fractured soul. He was a frightened child, lost in the thick woods while the owls howled. So, like a pathetic, scared child, he held out his arms, eyes wide, limbs shaking, trying to neglect the resentment.

But maybe he could find worth in suffering. That’s if he had a future to live genuinely. One where he could focus on himself and no one else. One where he didn’t have to become a different person in the mix of losing his true self.

Avery wiped the sticky tears. He couldn’t stay for much longer. He wanted to leave. The stench of blood prompted him to puke.

He was furious—beyond fury. He wanted to scream and cry, tearing the room apart until he lost control.

The ample amount of rage within ached his head. Standing above the bloody floor, he told himself he would confront Archon when he returned to the city. He didn’t know what to say but knew what he wanted to do.

“2A, show me the quickest way out. I wanna go home.”

"The fastest route requires you to leave from the main entrance. I’ve detected multiple signals around that area. Do you wish to continue?"

“I don’t care! I just wanna go home and strangle the shit out of Archon! That bastard made me his puppet. I'm going to detach the strings for good.” His heavy breathing caused his voice to be uneven.

A specific emotion devoured his body. He was born to fool everything, thinking he was a certain person when he wasn’t. He never got a chance to live a normal life. He had to crumple it like a paper ball and toss it into the trash. His life was full of sacrifices for the benefit of another.

The tears continued to fall. They weren’t tears of sadness or anguish but rather tears of hatred.