“I still carry the memory with me, even now, of what 'they' did to my parents," Emrys murmured, his expression clouded with sorrow as his gaze fell to the ground below.

“Mr. Smith, if becoming a walker means I can get my revenge, I’ll do it. I’m going to kill those who harmed and killed my own.” 

The wind swept through the rainy evening, the sun obscured by thick, dark clouds blanketing the sky. Standing tall before Emrys was a formidable figure, clad in a black hat and a sturdy black leather jacket that exuded an aura of authority and commanded respect. He looked fixedly at Emrys, with a concerned face, he’d let out a sigh. 

“Listen here young boy, I didn’t tell you about this because… I knew your parents didn’t want me to tell you. I knew you hated the Titlantians. But, if you ever get affiliated with the paranormal, who knows what the dangers are?”. Mr. Smith took off his black hat, revealing a smooth head under the ominous clouds that filled the air. 

Emrys cast his eyes toward the modest structures nestled on the lower ground, the vast mountain they stood upon adorned with lush, rain-soaked dark green grass. A tear, like a lone raindrop, trickled down his cheek, its path tracing the contours of his sorrow-stricken face. His body quivered with emotion, unable to bear the weight of his grief, and he sank onto the damp grass, the droplets from the rain mixed with his tears.

The sky, draped in heavy clouds, mirrored the gloom in Emrys' heart, casting a somber hue over the landscape. The sound of raindrops drumming against leaves and the earth provided a melancholic backdrop to his emotional turmoil.

With a trembling voice, choked with unshed tears, Emrys uttered a question that echoed the depths of his despair, “But... can we ever truly be free... if we remain chained under the weight of monarchy, or rather, tyranny?”. His hands, once strong and determined, now covered his eyes, attempting to shield them from the painful reality that enveloped him. 

The rain fell heavily, creating a rhythmic thudding sound that echoed through the air. In the distance, a loud clap of thunder echoed, illuminating Emrys' face with a fleeting flash of luminescent light. His hair, neatly parted in the middle, glistened with raindrops. He instinctively wiped his sharp nose, now dripping with rain-induced moisture. 

The grassy field rippled with each gust of wind, the blades swaying and dancing in harmony as the breeze intensified. Overhead, dark clouds gathered and thickened, casting a deeper shadow over the landscape. The rain picked up pace and descended in a steady torrent. 

“If we don’t do anything… will we ever be free?” 

Emrys' voice quivered with emotion, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Mr. Smith slowly ventured through the grasses, he would stand before Emrys, offering sympathy.

“I too, feel that we are being abused under their powers. However, they hold powers beyond human comprehension.”. 

Emrys gritted his teeth, his emotions tangled and turbulent within him. "You possess powers from the 'beyond,' don't you? Why didn’t you do anything? The drunk man told me everything about you, sir.”. 

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Mr. Smith’s gaze turned away from Emrys, he looked at the sun clouded by the rain, and the approaching moon that was about to descend. “Because…”. He took a deep breath. “I fear that our lives will get worse if we take any chance at a revolution against them.” 

“Then let me do it…

Let me attain those powers... Let me master them… Let me destroy Titlantia and bring our nation together... for the memory of my parents... and our liberation." Emrys spoke with unwavering resolve, his fists clenched tight, a determined glint in his eyes as he lifted his gaze from his tear-streaked face. Rising from the damp, rain-soaked ground, he stood tall against the backdrop of the stormy evening. 

“Young boy! Do not dare speak of overthrowing the government! It's treason!” Mr. Smith ordered, strolling up to Emrys to shield his mouth. 

“Shut it Emrys! You know they’ve got surveillance all over Verdalia, if anyone were to hear us, we would be executed.”  

Mr. Smith mumbled in his ears. 

"Well, what if I refuse? What will be my fate then? I understand your 'business' now. The act you call the term 'ascending'," Emrys muttered,

his words carrying a weight of defiance as he faced Mr. Smith amid the pouring rain.

Their gazes met a silent confrontation brewing between them amidst the somber atmosphere of the rainy evening. 

“You dare threaten me? Don’t you forget… I gave you a life after your parent's death, I was your caretaker after your supposed world was demolished!” Mr. Smith screamed with anguish though the sound wasn’t heard through the dim sky. 

“I didn’t mean to threaten you, but if you don’t give me what I desire, I won't hesitate.”. He asserted, fixing his gaze on Mr. Smith before taking a deliberate step backward. A chuckle escaped him, tinged with a mix of determination and confidence.

“You don’t fool me this easily, boy. You don’t understand what I’m capable of, I’m currently holding back because… I always saw you as my son. And, I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Emrys erupted into a fit of hysterical laughter.

"Hurt?" His laughter abruptly ceased, replaced by a sinister smile as he gazed downward.

“I was hurt before you took me in. 

I already died before…

On that day…” 

He’d look at Mr. Smith. 

“If tampering with the paranormal and political forces meant a penalty of death, I’d gladly accept that offer.” 

The wind swept through the darkened sky, and the rain gradually subsided. Candles began to illuminate the city as night settled in. 

Mr. Smith put his coal black hat back on his glabrous head. He pondered if he should allow Emrys- a person whom he thought of as his son- to become a walker. 

Mr. Smith knew the dangerous quests within the life of a walker, and how their entire perspective of their world changes. He understood the harsh reality that Emrys wouldn’t give up on destroying Titlantia. It reminded me of himself when he was young. 

He chuckled. 

“Fine. I’ll tell you how to ascend, but you can’t do it alone.”. The old man’s coat flowed with the wind, revealing his leathered black pants. His dark eyes gleamed as he lit up a candle. 

“The people from the other Verdalia Sanctuaries also have their leylines. They want to start a revolution against Titlantia, you can make contact with them after you obtain yours.” 

He’s going to allow me to become a walker!? 

Emrys somberly smiled at him, he understood that the path before him was a path of destruction and depression, But there was no going back now. This is the ‘path’ he had chosen. 

“Now, let's get going, it’s almost about to be nightfall.”