Black Jackrabbits

The city still roared long after the fireworks died.

Ray wandered through the winding streets of the Republic’s capital, hands buried in his pockets, hood up against the cool night breeze. Lanterns swung lazily from every archway, painting the alleys in soft golds and deep shadows.

Everywhere he looked, people danced.
Laughed.
Loved.

It was...peaceful. For once.
Not a sword in sight. Not a monster clawing at the gates.

Ray climbed the crumbling stone of an old watchtower and sat on its edge, high above the glowing city. His eyes flickered blue. The world slowed into a dream.

He could see everything —
The laughter.
The families holding hands.

It hurt. Thoughts of his younger brothers filled his mind. 
What if they never became Jackrabbits? What if they just tried to survive in this world?
But he knew it wouldn’t have lasted. 

The fireworks started again, huge blooms of silver and green and crimson exploding across the black velvet sky.

Ray looked on for what felt like a year, time so slow in his eyes. Only a moment must have passed for everyone else. Ray just needed a break—a pause on his relentless journey. To see, to truly see what this world was worth. The world that he and his brothers were torn apart for.

"Not in the mood to fight again, friend," Ray said without turning.

Thomas sat down next to him, legs dangling over the ledge, a drink in one hand.
"Me neither," Thomas said, smiling sadly.

Ray pulled the Blue-Eyed Totem from his belt, turning it over in his hands.
The magic inside pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
Without a word, he handed it to Thomas.

"Don’t lose this one, ya?"

Thomas chuckled and tucked it carefully into his cloak.
There was a long silence between them.
Just fireworks, and the city breathing below.
Finally, Thomas spoke.

"You know," he said quietly, "I don't even know why I want to leave anymore."

Ray glanced at him, waiting.
Thomas’s silver hair glowed under the fireworks. His eyes were distant.

"Back home, my life was shit," Thomas said. "My parents come from a royal bloodline. Big name. Big expectations. Couldn't even choose who I wanted to be seen with, let alone..."
He trailed off, swallowing thickly.

Ray said nothing, just waited.
Thomas let out a bitter laugh.

"Never even kissed anyone. Never even got the chance to figure out who the hell I really liked. I just got a feeling that I'm not normal. Just...always been told who to be, what to wear, who to smile at. Who to dislike. My parents would’ve disowned me if I’d said the wrong thing. If I'd been the wrong thing. If I’d told them that I’m…"

He clenched his fist in his lap.

"They would have buried me alive to protect the family name. As long as they looked perfect."

A raven circled overhead, its wings slicing the night air.
Ray smirked gently, voice warm.

"Thomas..."

Thomas looked up, and for the first time, Ray saw it —
The terror behind the mask. The boy under the armor. The pain under the smile. Thomas has been dying on the inside. On the edge of breaking.

Ray smiled, small and sure.

"No one gives a shit, man. No one, real, anyway. Only thing that matters is if you're a good person. And you are."

Thomas gave a shaky laugh.
"You didn't grow up where I did."

Ray shrugged.
"Maybe not. But we're here now. And here... you get to choose who you are."

Thomas stared at the city like he was seeing it for the first time.
Another long, soft silence.
Finally, Ray spoke again.
"I've been thinking, Thomas." He smirked. "Maybe it's the booze."

Thomas raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"

Ray leaned back on his hands, looking at the city life.
"I'll join you."

Thomas blinked in surprise.

"But," Ray said firmly, "only under one condition."

Thomas leaned forward, eager.
"Name it."

"I get a new squad. My own team. I pick every member. No one else. My job is simple — find the Totems. I don’t care about your wars, your Congress, your politics. I don’t want a single living soul to know that this squad even exists, just you and me. I will be the shadow of The Republic."

Thomas laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Deal. You're officially off the books. Besides, you would’ve had no support from the other Captains anyway. The Congress is too busy drooling over the war with the Kingdom. You’ll be alone out there, Ray."

Ray smiled, sharp and unwavering.
"Good. That's how I work best."

Thomas extended a hand.
"What color then, Captain?"

Ray clasped his forearm in a warrior’s grip.
"Black. And don’t you dare put that stupid ass emblem on the back of my cloak."

They shook once — strong, sure — and it was sealed.
Ray stood up, looking down at the city one last time. Eyes burning blue, still slowing the world to a crawl.
"One more thing, Thomas."

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Ray’s voice was low but clear.
"I’m not killing players. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Thomas’s smile faltered, confusion flickering across his face.

Ray turned, eyes burning.
"We’re all on the same side, whether the world sees it or not. I'm not throwing away my morals because this place says I should. I'm not a killer. These are people. We are all trapped in this game together."
He paused, voice cracking slightly.
"I'm an older brother."

Thomas stared at him, something breaking open behind his ribs.
Respect.
Pain.
Hope.

"You’re a better man than any of us," Thomas whispered.

Ray gave him one last small, crooked grin.
"Nah," he said. "Just stubborn."

Ray dropped from the tower without another word, vanishing into the night like a black shadow.
Thomas watched him go; a hand clutched over the Totem at his chest.

For the first time in a long, long time...
...he didn’t feel so alone.