I'm Stealing This Pot!

||1.2|| - The Honourable Traitor

That kind of stare, he had once seen it often.

They graduated together from the Empire's Military Academy, growing from nothing to everything; creating allies, expanding their influence, and had faced countless life-or-death encounters side by side.

But just when the Terence government noticed them and began to exert oppression and even merciless persecution, Dana had shot and killed their lifelong teacher himself, and had soon been accepted into the Terence government.

From there his importance had only risen; in the span of 5 years becoming the president's most trusted and powerful Marshal.

He had never sought the reason behind Dana's sudden betrayal - traitors did not need an explanation; elimination would be enough.

In their last crossfire, he had sniped Dana down.

Blood had spread rapidly in the lens of the rifle's scope; the thin figure silently fell. The once-formidable government army which had been more than enough to decimate the rebels instantly fell into a state of chaos at the loss of their leader, creating an opening through which he and his forces made their escape.

And he hadn't the slightest suspicion; how Dana, with his military aptitude, not have dodged such a hasty and obvious sniping.

All along, he seems to have overlooked some overly obvious signs...

Some notions of regret suddenly surfaced in his heart, silently simmering, forcing Vino almost to the point of breathlessness.

His arms had already begun trembling from how tightly he was clenching them, but he made no sign of noticing.

The door was suddenly opened.

Vino abruptly raised his head, tensing his entire body in preparation for an offensive, a ray of killing intent flashing through his eyes.

All fading into numb surprise as he realised who had come in.

His hand still resting on the door frame, Dana inclined his head towards him, the Lieutenant following behind, dinner in his hands.

In the bright light of the infirmary, the man's pallor had become increasingly noticeable. His wide cloak hid his body, concealing the weakness and fragility in his figure.

Su Shi had never possessed much environmental awareness, and remained unaware of the other man's sudden changes in intent. He steadily made his way to the side of the bed and took a seat, indicating for the Lieutenant to set the meal on a nearby table.

Staring at the Lieutenant's stiff movements, Vito briefly moved his gaze across the assortment of dishes with a moment of contemplation before lifting his head: "Dana, you don't have anything to say?"

"I do; I should be questioning you on the movements of the rebellion, but you won't speak anyways, so I might as well save my time."

Su Shi answered the question without raising his head from the medical reports on one side of the bed. The hot potato cannot be eaten, only tossed. In a few days, it will have to be sent back to the rebellion's HQ. He had no plans to waste any efforts on the man.

Not expecting such a response, Vito's expression froze, looking unconsciously towards the Marshal.

The Dana in his memories had been proud; proud and dazzling, with eyes forever lit by a razor-sharp intelligence, impossibly pure.

But the youth in front of him is lounging in his seat, unexpectedly revealing a hint of languor and ease. The previous edge was withdrawing faultlessly; the threat now almost imperceptible.