41Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCjT1CABwjMThe terrible knight dismounts, his blackened armor gleaming despite the rain. He smiles — a rocky, sadistic grin carves into a chiseled jaw line. His blonde hair is partly cleaned, his white teeth almost too perfect for his glow. Five guards in the same colors step forward, spears drawn, shields raised. Their formation is tight, defensive — as if Metro could possibly shatter them.
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Cornelius: (voice joyful)
"Metro, son of none, we have a warrant for your arrest."
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He holds out a tied scroll, rain dripping from the parchment.
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"Signed by the head of the providence. Here, look."
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Metro doesn't move. The rain soaks his attire, his hair, his silence.
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"Conspiracy… wow," he looks to the field, and back to a gaze. "Tell me, where did you hide the stash?"
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(Beat)
"How'd you even get away with something like that?"
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His tone is half impressed, half disgusted — Like a noble, watching a clever rat.
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METRO: (quietly)
"I don't know what you mean."
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The Knight nods slowly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His eyes close briefly, looking up at the grey sky, then back down again, refreshing eye contact —
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Cornelius: (charming smile)
"Of course you don't."
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He tilts his head, rain sliding down the sharp angles of his jaws frame. Only the rain speaks. Cornelius stares at him — not searching for truth, but savoring the moment. His eyes narrow with a predator's curiosity.
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"The men are saying you're dangerous… are you?"
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Cornelius's unseen aura presses closer, boots sinking into the mud, smile widening with something between mockery and fascination.
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"Tell me, do you have a gift?"
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The question is dripped in sarcasm, as if the idea itself amuses him. Metro doesn't answer. He doesn't move. He simply stands there, soaked, hollow, unreadable. Cornelius clicks his tongue.
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"You're trying to play hero in the slums?" You know, that's how rats hide. Under kindness."
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Metro's face doesn't budge. His eyes push forward — as if the rain had washed the last warmth from him. Cornelius grins, pleased with himself.
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Cornelius:
"I'm Cornelius by the way. Pleasure to meet you."
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(Beat)
Cornelius sucks his teeth, shaking his head slowly, smiling at Metro as if he were a child caught stealing bread.
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"I have to say, you are walking all alone… In the middle of nowhere, away from your post…'
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He lets the sentence hang, savoring the accusation.
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"… it doesn't look good."
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The guards behind him tighten their formation, spears angled towards Metro's chest. Cornelius leans in very slightly. Still charming.
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"Speak up. Don't be shy."
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A thin laugh escapes him — barely audible over the heavy rain drops.
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"This might be the last time you ever see the sky."
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The rain falls harder suddenly. The world seems to shrink around them. Metro's voice is bold and steady, but the rain almost overpowers it.
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Metro: "There are a lot of rumors going around — We were attacked twice, I fought, and defended
the men, and the crop both times."
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He looks at Cornelius with an exhausted, hallow stare. Cornelius' eyes narrow sharply, reading Metro like a puzzle he can't solve. His jaw flexes. His hypothesis — whatever it was — begins to slip.
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Cornelius:
"The crop was stolen by the hands of your brother."
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Metro blinks.
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(Beat)
A flash of white — like lightning behind his eyes — stabbing through him. Cornelius watches Metro with predatory delight.
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Metro: (soft)
"Caleb?"
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Cornelius:
"He's known as Cat now, I don't know if your aware…"
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Metro's breath catches, looking at the mud. His head lifts slowly. The rain blurs the word for a moment — a memory —Cornelius tilts his noggin, curiosity overtaking his cruelty, for just a moment.
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"You both have criminal records, you can't expect anyone not to believe that you had a hand in this."
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The air between them tightens. They face each other in the storm. Two forces locked in a silent battle of will and energy. Cornelius finally exhales, frustrated that he can't read Metro's motion, his eyes, his expression.
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He hates it.
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He plants one hand on hip, shaking his head in disbelief.
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Cornelius:
"However, your standing awfully straight for a man caught in the rain with a damning warrant over his head."
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His face shifts — the conversation is over. He's gotten nothing from Metro. Nothing he could use. Nothing he could understand. Cornelius sighs, forcing a smile.
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"Well, I have a job to do."
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He doesn't wait for a response.
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Cornelius: (proud, pompous)
"This isn't pleasant work, but someone's got to do it. Lets get a move on shall we, your cell is waiting."
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He steps forward tying Metro's hands and wrist in front of him with coarse rope. Metro doesn't resist. He only lowers his head, rain dripping down his chain and neck, clothes soaked. His silence is heavier than the sound of the current storm crashing down on them. The long road ahead is darkened.
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The prison carriage rolls forward to the north, with Metro sitting inside, the boxed cage tied and bound, staring at nothing.
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He rides towards his fate.
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Expressionless.
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Unreadable.
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— scene fades black —
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— End of volume 1—
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: ) Thank you for reading… Volume 2 is available for free.
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