Kuro, Arthur, and Artoria walked side by side through the shadowy alleys of Duril, the silence around them nearly suffocating. The night air was damp and bitter, heavy with the stench of smoke and rot. The houses they passed were barely standing—doors missing, wood eaten by time and neglect.
"It's midnight," Kuro whispered, his voice low and wary, "and people are still peeking at us from their houses."
"They're scared," Artoria replied, eyes flickering toward the dim slivers of movement behind shattered windows. "They don't even have the luxury of sleep. Who knows what'll happen if they close their eyes?"
Kuro fell silent. The way the air hung in this city—cold and hopeless—made it hard to breathe. He couldn't find the words to explain the weight in his chest. Then, suddenly—
"Please… please, kind sirs… save my child…"
A woman stumbled out from the shadows and dropped to her knees before them. Her voice trembled with pain, eyes wide with desperation. Her hands were trembling, her hair unkempt, and her face hollow.
Kuro's steps faltered. His chest tightened, but he closed his eyes and kept moving.
"Sorry," he said quietly, almost too soft to hear.
Arthur looked around cautiously. "We need somewhere to hide. Somewhere to rest."
Kuro turned to Artoria. "Do you know any place we can stay?"
She looked down. "No. No one would take me in. Helping an elf is considered a crime here."
THUD!
They stopped, startled. Behind them, someone had landed from above.
"Are you the ones who infiltrated through the door?" came a young, energetic voice.
"Don't take off your cloaks," Kuro whispered quickly. Then louder, "What business do you have with us?"
"I'm not a soldier," the voice said cheerfully. "Relax. Just turn around slowly—and hand over anything that can be eaten."
Arthur blinked. "You want food?"
"Everyone does," the boy replied instantly. "It's the only way to stay alive."
Before the boy could react, Arthur was behind him in an instant. He grabbed the boy's arms and twisted them behind his back, forcing him face-first into the dirt.
"Now talk," Arthur growled. "What do you really want?"
"I'm sorry! Please, I wasn't going to hurt anyone!" the boy cried out, struggling.
Kuro stepped forward and crouched next to him. "Relax. We'll give you all the food you want," he said with a small grin. "But in exchange, we need a place to stay."
The boy blinked in disbelief. "That's all? You just want to stay somewhere?"
"Yes," Kuro nodded. "So… do we have a deal?"
"Yes! Yes, please! I live alone—you can come to my house!" the boy replied quickly.
Arthur let go, and the boy stood up, rubbing his wrists.
"So," Arthur said, voice deep and even, "lead the way, boy."
Still nervous, the boy nodded and started walking, leading them through the winding streets. After a few minutes, they stopped in front of a small, crumbling house. It had no roof, no doors, and barely any walls left standing.
"Wait," Kuro asked, raising an eyebrow, "you live here? Without a roof?"
"No," the boy said. He looked around cautiously, then walked forward and knelt. From beneath the dirt, he pulled a hidden handle. With a rusty creak, a trapdoor opened, revealing a narrow passage underground.
He gestured for them to follow. Once they were all inside, he shut the entrance behind them.
The underground room was dimly lit by a single hanging bulb. Dust floated in the air. A small table and a single chair stood in the center. Two rooms without doors sat on either side. On the table, a basket lay empty.
"Now… give me food," the boy said.
Kuro reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package, handing it over. The boy's eyes lit up, a wide smile spreading across his face. He tore it open and devoured the fruits inside like he hadn't eaten in days.
"Thank you," he mumbled between bites.
Arthur leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, a faint smile touching his lips.
"What's your name?" Kuro asked softly.
"Dian," the boy replied, wiping his mouth. "I'm Dian."
"Do you live here alone?" Artoria asked gently. "Where are your parents?"
"I don't know," Dian said quietly, looking at the ground. "The people say… they were taken away to the temple."
A long silence followed. Arthur stood motionless in the corner.
Then he spoke, breaking the tension. "So, What now?"
"We wait for morning," Kuro replied. "The soldiers must be patrolling the city right now."
He turned to Dian. "You don't have a problem with us staying here, do you?"
"No," Dian said, smiling again. "You're good people."
Morning,
Kuro woke with a start, sweat dripping down his face. He sat up, heart pounding, chest tight from a dream he couldn't remember. Arthur and Dian were still asleep. Quietly, he stood, rubbing his eyes, and walked out.
He glanced at the room where Artoria had been sleeping—and froze.
She was in her child form. Awake. And naked.
Their eyes met for a split second. Both turned away immediately.
"I—I'm sorry," Kuro stammered, voice cracking. "I didn't mean to…"
Artoria's face turned crimson. She scrambled to get dressed without a word.
"Y-You can turn now," she whispered, barely audible.
Arthur and Dian stirred from the commotion, blinking as they sat up. No one said much.
By noon, they had all eaten and were ready.
"It's time to move," Kuro said, standing near the table.
"But what exactly are we looking for?" Arthur asked.
"We need to scout the kingdom," Kuro replied, his voice low and serious. "We can't fight a god without a plan."
He paused, then added, "And before the Handyman left… he said something to me."
Arthur looked up. "What did he say?"
Kuro's eyes narrowed.
"'Go for the Throne,'" he repeated. "'There's an answer for you there.'"
The room fell silent. Everyone exchanged tense glances.
Then, suddenly—
"Hey!" Dian shouted, running in from outside. "There's a play happening today! Do you guys wanna come? I'm going!"
Kuro looked at Arthur.
"It's the perfect way to start," he muttered. Then louder, "Yeah. Let's go."
They followed Dian through the streets, now visible in the harsh daylight. Cracks ran through every stone. The ground was covered in dirt and old stains of blood. The air was heavy with despair.
Kuro clenched his fists. Arthur remained cold and unreadable. Artoria walked silently, her eyes scanning the broken remains of the city.
Finally, Dian stopped.
"And we're here!" he said cheerfully.
Before them stood an old dome-shaped building. They entered through a broken archway. Inside, it was packed. People filled every seat, all waiting for the play to start,
Arthur and Dian sat in the left column. Kuro and Artoria took their seats on the right.
An old man stepped onto the stage, leaning heavily on a cane.
"Thank you all for coming," he said. "The play will begin soon."
Tip. Tip. Tip.
Kuro felt something warm on his shoulder. A soft sound, like drops hitting. He tilted slightly and saw it—blood.
Then—a whisper. Close. Too close.
"Don't move."
The voice paused.
"Let's enjoy the show first. Or the elf girl beside you… pays the price."