An Act of Heroism, An Act of Folly

Their arrival in the forest was less a landing and more a controlled collision. Bruno’s massive, spherical form tore through a lattice of branches with a series of sharp cracks, showering them in a cascade of leaves before finally embedding itself in the soft loam of the forest floor. The sound he made as he returned to his normal size was like a great wineskin deflating, a long, weary sigh of released pressure. It was Nicolas, still coursing with the phantom energy of the fight, who broke the stillness.

“I think,” he panted, slumping back against the rough bark of an ancient tree, “I think we lost them.”

“I don’t know who this new friend of yours is,” Bruno grumbled, his voice a low rumble of pure annoyance as he fastidiously brushed twigs and dirt from his cloak and armor. The thrill of the escape was entirely absent from his tone, replaced by the profound irritation of a creature of habit whose routine had been violently disrupted. “But thanks to his little public display, we’ll never be able to set foot in that city again. And the soup at that tavern was the only pleasure I had left in this cursed world.”

A shadow of guilt crossed Nicolas’s face. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen,” he murmured.

“You didn’t mean to?” Katrina’s voice sliced through the air like a whip. She spun on him, her eyes glittering with a cold fire that even the deep shadows of the forest could not extinguish. “Tell me, what exactly was going through your head at that moment?”

Nicolas, though he initially flinched at the sudden ferocity of her attack, found his footing. The defensive tone in his voice burned away, replaced by the heat of righteous anger. “What was going through my head? They were going to tear that little girl apart, just like all the others!”

“She was just an NPC!” Katrina shouted back, the raw frustration in her voice momentarily eclipsing her anger.

“They were people once, Katrina!” Nicolas retorted, his own voice rising to match hers. “Real people! They’re just trapped in here, lost! That’s all!”

In a single, fluid step, Katrina closed the distance between them. She jabbed a finger hard into his chest, the impact a sharp punctuation mark to her words. “The next time you decide to make a decision that affects all of us,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous, each word enunciated with chilling precision, “you will be the one to bear the consequences.”

“Enough,” Bruno’s baritone voice cut through the tension like a woodsman’s axe. The weight of his presence brought an immediate halt to the standoff between the two furious Zinox. “Suge is a few kilometers south of here. I’ll give you the location. But you won’t ask why I’ve changed my mind, and we will not see each other again after this.”

Katrina answered without taking her glare off Nicolas. “Nobody asked for your help. Just give us the damned address.”

Bruno bent down, picked up a small, flat stone, and etched a series of lines onto its surface with a shard of rock before tossing it to Katrina. “One last thing, about Suge,” he said, already turning to melt back into the deep woods. “The rumors say he was involved in some kind of major incident. No one knows the details.”

Meanwhile, within the fortress at the heart of the City of Anomaly, the great square was a roiling sea of humanity. A hush fell over the thousands gathered as the King emerged onto his marbled balcony. His posture was regal, his face a carefully constructed mask of a leader sharing in the sorrow of his people.

His voice, amplified by the castle’s acoustics, boomed across the square. “The events of today have grieved our people, but I assure you, such an outrage will not happen again! The one who sent those beasts, and the Zinox who conspired with them, will face the most severe punishment imaginable!”

That final sentence sent a shockwave through the crowd. A beat of stunned silence fell over the square before a snake’s nest of whispers began to writhe through the populace. “The Zinox? But… didn’t the ones today save that little girl? Is it possible they aren’t all evil?”

The King seized upon that moment of hesitation like a hawk diving on its prey. “I assure you,” he thundered, his voice drowning out the whispers with sheer force of will, “they only wish to get inside your heads! The moment they earn your trust is the moment they will turn on you! Remember that first, terrible day they arrived! It was a sign given to us! Am I wrong?”

The question was a spark thrown into a powder keg. The square erupted with a unified roar of thousands of voices. “You are right!” “Long live the King!” “Death to the Zinox!”

Having received the validation he sought, the King raised a hand, a gesture of calming authority. “But do not despair,” he said, his voice now laced with the conviction of cold steel. “I will see to this matter personally.”

Amidst the adoring cheers of the crowd, he turned and retreated into the shadowed sanctum of his study. The moment the heavy oak door closed behind him, the noble, concerned mask fell from his face, replaced by a look of ice-cold calculation. He spoke to a figure standing in the darkness.

“Have you been able to determine their location, Lucas?”

Lucas stepped out from the shadows, that familiar, sardonic smirk playing on his lips. “My men have received word they were headed south. Though I must admit, Your Majesty, I fail to see the reason for your urgency.”

The King walked to the grand window, looking down upon the cheering masses below. “I cannot have my people learning the ‘truth’ about the Zinox, Lucas. Which is why this benevolent duo must be eliminated immediately, before they can become a legend. Otherwise, the faith my people have in me will be eroded by their faith in the ‘goodness’ of our enemies. Assuming, of course, that the only thing you care about is gold, finding and killing them should be a simple matter for you.”

A glint of avarice shone in Lucas’s eyes. “Do not worry, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice as smooth as freshly minted coin. “You will not be disappointed.”