"Hey, Freya?" Jett called, his hand still tangled in her silky blonde hair.

"Yeah?" she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest.

"I think they're gone now."

That snapped her back to her senses. Her eyes widened as she realized what position they were in. With a startled gasp, she pushed herself off him, almost stumbling to her feet.

Her face flushed crimson. "Umm, sorry. My bad," she stammered, turning her head away, refusing to meet his eyes. She tried to compose herself, but the more she thought about it, the more her heart raced. What was I thinking? Hugging him like that?

She pressed a hand to her cheek, feeling the heat spread. Thankfully, the dim corridor light hid the worst of it.

"You don't need to apologize," Jett said quietly, brushing dust from his clothes. His tone was calm, almost reassuring. Deep down, though, he didn't mind the moment. Not one bit.

He glanced at her again, trying to read her face. For a second, he thought he saw a faint blush. Is she blushing? He squinted slightly but couldn't be sure. I must be imagining it.

Silence followed. A long, uncomfortable one.

Say something… anything. Freya's mind scrambled for words.

"I'm going to see Rey," Jett said suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice carried a casual firmness that saved her from her inner struggle. "You wanna tag along? You'll need to hear what I say too."

Freya blinked, grateful for the change of topic. "What could that be?" she asked, curiosity replacing her embarrassment.

"You'll find out soon enough," Jett replied with a faint smirk, walking backward toward the hall while gesturing for her to follow.

Freya hesitated for a second, then sighed and trailed after him, her thoughts still a quiet storm beneath her calm expression.

*****

The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Freya could feel it pressing against her skin, heavy and sharp, like walking into a storm that hadn't broken yet.

Rey stood on one side, his arms crossed, eyebrows drawn tight. His expression screamed for help, like he was trying to process something that refused to make sense.

Jett, on the other hand, looked far too calm. His grin was wide, unsettling even. He seemed almost proud of whatever madness he had just said.

"Let me get this straight," Rey started, voice low and strained. "Your big idea… is full-on genocide?"

"Come on..." Jett groaned, dragging his words as if Rey was the unreasonable one. "We'll bring them back to life." He strolled behind Freya and gave her shoulder a light tap.

"More precisely, Freya will," he added with a satisfied grin.

Freya blinked, still trying to catch up.

"That is so messed up on so many levels," Rey snapped. His voice cracked with disbelief. Who in their right mind would even suggest something like that? Wiping out hundreds of civilians, then reviving them like nothing happened?

Then it hit him. His gaze sharpened. "Wait… have you done this before?"

Jett's smirk didn't fade, which only made Rey panic more.

"You haven't done this before, right?" Rey repeated, his voice pitching higher, his hands grabbing Jett's shoulders. "You're saying this based on an assumption from the game, right? Right?"

'Say no, dumbass.' Rey screamed internally.

Jett didn't say a word. He only tilted his head with that same maddening calm.

The silence between them grew heavier, and Freya stood frozen, feeling like an outsider in a conversation that was far above her pay grade.

Why am I even here? And what's all this about genocide? she thought, staring at both of them, half horrified and half lost. Are they serious right now?

Both boys froze at the sound of her voice. Freya's tone carried no anger, only authority, the kind that demanded instant obedience.

Before either could react, her fists landed squarely on their heads with two sharp thuds that echoed through the room.

"Ow!" Jett and Rey yelped in perfect sync, clutching their heads. The pain was enough to break their argument on the spot.

'I'm pretty sure this damn stat reduction made me feel that more than usual.' Jett sighed.

"Down." Freya crossed her arms, her glare colder than ice.

Without needing another word, both of them dropped to their knees before her, shoulders hunched, heads lowered like guilty schoolboys caught sneaking into the teacher's lounge.

"What do you think you're trying to do here?" Freya asked, her sigh long and disappointed. "Starting a fight? Acting like grade schoolers?"

Rey rubbed his sore head, muttering under his breath, "Well technically... we are only twelve..."

He didn't get to finish. Freya shot him a sharp glare that cut his words in half.

Rey's mouth shut instantly. Jett snorted but quickly looked away when Freya's eyes shifted to him too.

The room went quiet again, both of them kneeling in line like punished kids while Freya stood above them, the clear picture of restraint and irritation.

Freya's voice softened in an instant, almost melodic. "Alrighty, now that everyone's calmed down, we can have a normal conversation."

Rey and Jett exchanged a look. The shift in her tone was unreal. A few seconds ago, she was a tyrant. Now she sounded like a saint.

'Witch,' they both thought at the same time, their faces blank with disbelief.

"Now, Jett," Freya said sweetly, folding her hands. "Explain yourself."

Jett hesitated, then sighed. "Fine."

He went over the plan again, step by step. The more he talked, the more uneasy Freya became. She blinked several times, her expression shifting from curiosity to alarm as the exact though Rey had finally came to her.

"Hold on." She raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I'm just curious, but this is your first time doing this, right?"

Jett opened his mouth. "I mean… I've done it to Finn before."

He froze.

Rey and Freya's eyes widened at the same time. The air around them turned heavy.

"…Crap," Jett muttered under his breath. He only realised it after it has left his mouth. There was no coming back from that.

"Wait." Rey leaned forward, face blank with disbelief. "You what?"

"It wasn't intentional! I swear!" Jett quickly said, waving his hands. "It was a matter of circumstances. Yeah, circumstances. You can ask him if you don't believe me."

Rey stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Honestly, I always wondered why Finn looked at you like you owed him money from your past lives."

Freya crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Now it makes sense. I don't even blame the poor guy. I'd hate you too if you ever tried that on me too."

Jett's smile twitched. Sweat ran down his neck. There was no saving his image now.

He glanced between them, desperate for a change of topic. Neither of them blinked. Both looked like they were staring at a walking hazard.

Freya broke the silence. "Alright, I'm in."

They stared at her. None of them had expected the answer.

"Don't like that you almost kept me out," she added. "I am the most important part of this plan aren't I?."

"You're really agreeing to this?" Rey asked, still doubtful. "This is dangerous. What if it goes wrong?"

"I trust him," Freya said. "He'll take responsibility if it fails. Besides, he can't do this alone."

Jett glanced behind her. He saw the flicker of suspicion in her eyes. He also saw relief. He already had a backup plan to force her into helping if she refused but he didn't need it anymore. Instead he wondered why everything seemed to be moving smoothly.

"Tch. This better work," Rey muttered. "What now?"

"We go fishing," Jett said, smiling. He snapped his fingers and formed a small ball of water. Both Rey and Freya blinked.

Jett looked like a kid with a new toy. "You can finally control your mana?" Rey grumbled, then shoved him from behind, "it's about damn time."

*****

Asher stepped outside to get some fresh air. His room felt too tight and he needed to stretch his body. The night sky felt empty and loud. It didn't take long before he felt two presences moving down the deck. No hunger in them. No bloodlust. It didn't feel like they came for him specifically and it also didn't seem like they knew he was there so he stayed where he was but just incase...

[Stealth]

Two guards patrolled the area. The short one wore a dented breastplate, leather straps across his chest, and a faded tabard. His helm had a chipped crest. The tall guard wore bronze pauldrons and a chainmail hauberk. Salt had stained the metal. Both carried spears and a cold look.

"We haven't moved for days," the short one muttered. "Those nobles barely notice. I doubt they care."

"The gods are angry," the tall one said. "First the monster, now this. They want a sacrifice."

"Do you really think the captain is right? Sacrificing survivors?" the short guard asked.

"We put them out of their misery and appease the gods," the tall guard answered. "Win-win. If we stay stuck another six days, then we'll start."

Asher listened without expression. He weighed the talk. He thought of warning the others. He began to step away.

A bucket rolled from the shadows and struck his foot. It clattered and rolled toward the guards.

"Who's there?" the short guard barked as they turned and moved closer.

Asher froze. He frowned. "Damn it."

*

*

*

I knew it was too easy for a trial.

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