Arlo sat up on his bed in a cold sweat.
He had another nightmare about how he had abandoned his friends.
They're still alive, right?
Of course they are.
They have to be.
It had been about a week since the day they were ambushed.
He was assigned a place to call his home. It was rather small, but he appreciated the thought.
He sat up and grabbed a plum from the fruit bowl, and bit into it.
Knock knock
Arlo walked over to the door and opened it. It was a cloaked man, much like the one he had met his first day here.
Arlo immediately took caution.
"Hey, can I help you?"
"I must to take you to the commanders at once." he spoke in a muffled voice.
"Alright."
The man turned around and began walking, and Arlo followed.
Is this him? The one who attacked us?
No, it can't be.
But they look the same! This has to be him.
Arlo held his breath as he followed.
"Why with the discomfort?" the cloaked figure asked.
"Wha- no, I'm fine."
The figure turned around facing him, yet...
He couldn't see his face.
How is that possible?
A shadow covers his face even as he faces me now?
The mysterious person put his hand up to the hood and pulled it back, Revealing his face.
Th... there's no way...
