The Eight of Image (Complete Edition 4)

                            Mark glanced around him at the grass covered field he was standing on, the trees in the distance and the three huge wooden square buildings shared walls with the castle from behind.
                    “What are we doing here?” he asked a yawning Loren.
                    “I figured that since you had been drawn into Image, you might as well make it a part of you,” the man said after his yawn “learn all you could about it”.
                    “I really wish it were the other way,” Mark said with a sigh.
                    “It’s a bit too late for that,” Loren said as he stepped in front of the boy, “my father used to always say, ‘expect your future” he said.
        Mark looked up at the man, “Do you?”
        Loren was silent, “I guess I now do,” he replied after a few seconds and stepped back.
                    “I brought you out here to show you something,” Loren said, “something you might really need”.
        A light breeze blew over the field as the sun began it’s descent down the horizon, the sky would be glowing orange very soon.
                      “You might not have noticed it, the fact that you were able keep up with the speed of a 3rd year,” Loren begun.
                      “Is it that strange?” Mark asked dully.
                      “It’s practically impossible, considering the fact that you have no ties with Image,” Loren confirmed with seriousness, “but then your ability had been stretched to it’s limit”.
                      “Meaning…?” Mark asked.
                      “Had Calix continuously attacked you, you would have been killed,” Loren explained, “since his attacks were delayed, possibly by his shock at the existence of your potential, you had enough time to prepare for evading his attacks”.
      Yes, Mark thought, Calix’s attacks had been separated by a lot of time.
                        “But they were still very fast attacks,’ Mark pointed out.
                        “Exactly,” Loren said with a nod, “so fast you practically couldn’t see him. That speed of yours came somewhat from your great intuition and reflexes, something that still baffles me”.
            Mark could finally see where this was going. “You want me to harness that ability,” he said.
            Loren nodded. “And use it,” the man finished.
                        “Why not simply give me a liveball?” Mark asked with a shrug, “wouldn’t it be easier and faster that way?”
      Loren smiled, “That’s because you are different”.

CHAPTER FIVE (DEEP WITHIN) 

    Frenze shuddered at the cold floor, which felt strange considering the fact that he had hooves for feet. Then again, the sight of the room he was in gave him a chill. A very deep one.
          He had failed his mission miserably and lost several of his soldiers, including a close friend. He felt more like a ghost now, knowing that he was supposed to be dead. It was a thought this room preserved well.
          The door behind him opened noisily and he felt his muscles twitch beyond reason, he could feebly feel his liveball cringe in his chest as he felt a presence in the room.
          The hard ‘clop’ of hooves on the stone floor each felt like the jab of a sword in his side, he couldn’t keep from shaking intensely.
                “Pathetic,” a voice boomed at his side, “it’s no surprise you failed”.
        The owner of the voice moved behind the unoccupied table and into the glowing light of the flickering torches on the wall, a centaur unlike any other.
            This centaur had long black hair thrown behind with clear gray eyes over a small nose and mouth; his short brown horse fur was faded and patchy in several places to show his great experience and scars in battles.
          Frenze literally felt like a dwarf before him, this centaur’s liveball had its roots so wide across his chest that they had began to string down his stomach muscles. 
                  “G-General Molder,” Frenze stuttered uncontrollably, “t-th-there had been a p-problem”.
        The centaur behind the table snorted and shook his head, “I heard, you were effectively stopped by Loren”.
                  “Y-Yes General,” Frenze said with a bowed head, “he knew of our plans”.
                  “It’s surprising…, I didn’t think he would actually get involved in this” Molder muttered, “This was a mission I should have taken myself”.
          Molder looked directly at the still shaking Frenze, “Is there anything else I should know?”
                    “Y-Yes General,” Frenze said, “Loren was more than I expected. He was far more powerful than me and my squad put together, probably as powerful as you”.
          Molder laughed loud, his laughter echoing strongly off the stone walls.
          “We were both wrong about Loren.  I actually believe he’s a 10th year, though the source of his insane strength still remains a mystery,” he said and saw the changed expression on Frenze’s face.
            “Yes, you were actually spared by his weakness for the defenseless, which I personally find disgusting,” Molder snorted.
              Molder moved from behind the table with his fingers trailing along its edge. “There won’t be any failure next time,” he said after a while, “because I’ll personally be going with you”.
                  “W-With me?” Frenze stammered in unbelief, he had believed he was in this room to die for his failure.
                  “You’re different from your pitiable friend,” Molder said as he stopped beside Frenze, “I’m going to give you another chance”.
            With that he walked to the door and opened it.
                    “Make sure she’s ready when we make our move and alert the inhabitants of Image of our newest visitor. I’m sure some of them would like to pay him a visit, however hostile it may be,” Molder said and stepped out of the room.
            Frenze felt the air rush out of his lungs as he heard the door close. He couldn’t believe his ears. A 3rd year like him was taking a mission with the most powerful fighter in Image, not to mention the fact that he had been gracefully spared of his failure.
                    “I’m doing this for you, Calix,” he murmured as he turned to leave the room, “for you”.
                                                                        *
          Mark fell to one knee panting in the early afternoon sun as he gazed at the man before him; he coughed and rose slowly to his feet. Three days had passed since Loren begun this training with him.
          Loren had called for a certain man by the name of Han in the army to help Mark sharpen himself and frankly, it wasn’t going well. Mark took a deep breath and steadied himself, the man before him was a third year like Calix, but the results however were quite different.
          Mark suddenly realized that Han had moved and he jumped back. Before he could move again the man appeared beside him and patted him across the back.
                                                                        *
          Loren stood in the distance, watching everything. He turned around when he heard footsteps and saw Mantis strolling towards him.
                    “You sure are persistent,” the Alterer said as he stopped beside Loren, “Tell me, do you actually believe he can do what no other Imagenite has ever done?”
      Loren smiled, “Actually, I know he can,” the young man replied.
                      “I must say I’m still quite troubled by how this all turned out…, I believe you are too,” Mantis said with a glance at Loren, “if the king’s soldiers chose Mark to be the one, it gives the whole prophecy a new turn”.
            Loren nodded, “Yes it does, but then they are the ones with the writings, meaning that they actually knew what they were doing, it was an amazing coincidence that I stumbled into Frenze that day,” he replied after a while of silence, “I still can’t figure out how they deciphered the prophecy”.
                        “We must begin to accept the fact that Rodnab has got an Alterer helping him,” Mantis said.
        Loren took a long look at Mantis and said, “Do you think it might be one of your”-.
                        “I don’t think so,” Mantis said abruptly, “I… hope not”.
                                                                                  *
          For the tenth time Mark readied himself as Han stepped back. He crouched when he saw the man prepare for other dash at him.
          Mark suddenly dove to his left and rolled on the ground just as the man appeared where he had been standing a second ago. When his feet were on the ground again, Mark jumped backwards.
          In that split second as he sailed in the air he actually saw Han running straight at him with an outstretched arm. Mark landed on his feet and stumbled back awkwardly; he swung an arm upwards and guided the man’s outstretched arm shooting above his head. A light tap on his chest told him the man’s other arm had found its target.
          Han smiled and stepped back. “You really are…something, you know” he said, seeming apparently impressed.
          Mark bent over with hands on knees as he tried to catch his breath, his weariness was making it harder to keep up with the man’s speed.
                                                                                *
          In the distance Loren smiled. “He’s improving,” he said with a glance at Mantis who nodded in agreement.
                        “I must admit that I’m impressed,” the Alterer replied reluctantly.
            Loren shoved his hands into his pockets and begun walking towards Mark while Mantis stood motionless on the spot.
                        “Loren,” the Alterer said and the young man turned. “What do you think he will make of all this when he gets to find out he’s something that he’s actually not,” Mantis said.
              Loren remained silent and his eyes fell to the ground, he turned and continued walking towards Mark without a word.
            Mantis sighed and turned around. This won’t end up with anything good, he thought as he headed back to the castle.
                        “Take a break,” Loren said as he reached the exhausted boy, Mark nodded and sank to the ground instantly.
                        “Thank you, Han. You can go now,” Loren said as he turned to the man who bowed briefly with a grin and walked away towards the castle.
            Loren sat down beside Mark and looked up at the sky, “How do you feel?” he asked, his eyes still up.
                        “Just about dead,” Mark replied sarcastically, he looked at Loren, “I still don’t know why I’m really doing all this”.
        The man looked away from the sky and at Mark, “You’ll know very soon,” Loren replied.
          For a few minutes all that could be heard was Mark’s exhausted breathing, the wind blowing through the trees and over the grass was as silent as a feather.
                        “How was Image like, all this while?” Mark asked suddenly. Loren was silent for a while, watching the boy closely.
                        “I can’t say it was perfect, but yet something worth having. There was a deep reverence for each of the races,” he replied as he turned back to the blue sky above them, “why do you ask?”
                        “It’s nothing,” Mark murmured and turned away from Loren who glanced briefly at him.
      He’s began to feel it, the man thought, the pieces are slowly coming together for him.       
      Mark suddenly got up and turned to Loren, “I want to continue”.
          Loren looked at him with raised eyebrows and also got up.
                    “Really? Well then, I’ll take you directly now,” he said, stepping back to put some distance between them, “I’ll try to move as slow as I can, the rules are the same as with Han”.
            Mark nodded; his aim was to avoid making physical contact with Loren.
                      “Now observe,” Loren said in a low stance position.
          Mark merely blinked and at that moment felt a tap on his shoulder, chest and back. He saw Loren’s figure waver in his sight just as his blink ended.
                      “What just happened?” he asked, somewhat confused.
        Loren nodded slightly to himself, “It seems both your body and eyes can only keep up to a 3rd year’s speed, I just moved with the speed of a 6th year and you had no idea what happened that second”.
                      “Does that mean I can be ranked as a 3rd year,” Mark asked.
                      “Not exactly,” Loren replied, “you don’t have the speed of a 3rd year per say. It’s more like your reflexes are extraordinarily honed, giving you a sharp response to certain movements which are limited to that of the 3rd years and lower”.
          Mark was silent for a while. “Then I can’t really move at the speed of a 3rd year,” he said.
          Loren shook his head; he watched the boy closely and saw what looked like a thin streak of disappointment in his eyes.
                        “If you succeed in fully harnessing that ability, you’ll be eventually able to read any movement easily,” Loren said with a smile.
                        “Let’s continue then,” Mark said with a deep breath.
                        “No,” Loren said with a raised hand, “if we continue any further today, I’m afraid you might be unable to wake up tomorrow”.
        He turned and beckoned for Mark to follow, “Let’s go get some rest”.
        Mark sighed loudly and hurried reluctantly after him.
                                                                          *
              Mark stood in front of his bedroom window and basked in the early morning sun, his eyes following the activities of the figures on the field below.
              He had noticed that there were sentry shifts every two mornings regarding the patrol of the forest around the castle.
          A knock sounded on the door and Mark turned, “Come in”.
          Balker stepped into the room with new clothes and a smile as warm as the sun.   
                          “Good morning,” he said as he placed the clothes on the table, he straightened up and turned to Mark, “So it’s true”.
                          “What’s true?” Mark asked in pure surprise.
                          “Your unique ability,” Balker answered, “I didn’t believe it at first, but now you’ve got the whole army stirring”.
                          “I-I don’t know what to say,” Mark stammered with surprise.
                          “At least I know why the king’s army is so interested in you,” Balker said as he walked away from the table. “You have no liveball and yet you challenge the power of one who does,” he said, his eyes trailing over Mark.
                            “I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you,” Mark said, turning back to the window.
        Balker didn’t respond, his eyes watching Mark carefully.
                          “Have you ever hoped desperately for something?” he finally asked.
        Hope, Mark repeated the word in his head, that word strangely made him feel uncomfortable and insecure.
                          “I guess not,” Mark said without turning, “there’s too much to risk with it”.
          Balker slowly walked over to the window and also looked out, “When you’ve lost more than you actually have, it becomes no risk at all,” he said silently.
          Mark turned and looked at him; he was suddenly devoid of words. Slowly he turned back to the window.
                            “Its hope that drives one forward, even one with nothing to hope for,” the centaur said and turned to leave. The sound of his hooves on the ground was followed by the opening and closing of the door.
          Hope, Mark felt he had nothing on the line to hope for, but strangely it still made him insecure.
                                                                        *
            Mark gulped down the remaining coffee in his cup and sighed. Loren had already finished and was standing motionless in front of the window.
        Mantis hadn’t been present for breakfast this morning, probably heading some activities below.
        Loren turned from the window and walked over to the table, “We should probably get started, don’t you think?” 
            “I…,” Mark began, his eyes on the table, “I have to know why I’m really here”.
        Loren was silent for a while, “Then we should wait for Mantis,” he said finally and sat down.
        The door opened a few minutes later and Mantis strode into the room, he sat down and leaned back in his chair, his eyes on the two before him.
            “I guess you’re anxious to know more,” the Alterer said and sat up straight. Mark nodded, he felt he had to know why things were the way they were, otherwise his presence here had no meaning.
      For a few passing seconds Mantis and Loren looked solemnly at each other.
            “I’ll be downstairs,” the young man said and left the room.
      Mantis looked at the boy before him, he felt more confused than Mark.
            “Why me?” Mark asked suddenly. He looked directly into the Alterer’s eyes and found them unwavering.
          Mantis sighed, “Years back, one of the kings of Image got a future prediction from an Alterer, a prediction stating that the son of one king would grow up to kill the other king. Sixteen years ago, Image was ruled by a human and a dragon…, now it’s ruled by a dragon only”.
          Mark realized he had stopped breathing for a few seconds, what he was hearing sounded completely unbelievable.
          “Bandor was the name of the human king and Rodnab, a name I’m sure you’ve heard, was the dragon king,” Mantis continued, “King Rodnab killed King Bandor because he believed Bandor’s son would kill him! He believed in a prediction that possibly would have never come true! He killed Bandor so that he could kill his new born son!”
        Mantis realized he had begun to shout and fell silent. “I’m sorry,” he said, stroking his temples slowly.
          “I understand,” Mark said as his eyes fell back to the table, “but what has that got to do with me?”
The Alterer let out a small laugh and looked at Mark, “Apparently, everything,” he said.
          “B-But how?” Mark stammered.
          “Resources tell us Rodnab never got to kill that child,” Mantis replied, “The child was stolen before Rodnab could even notice and now after all these years they believe they have found the stolen child”.
            Mark was silent as the words sank in. “That must mean they made a mistake in choosing me,” he said after a few seconds.
            Mantis was silent for a while with nothing but a pained smile on his face, “They believe you’re that boy, Mark”.
            Mark slowly rose from his chair and backed away from the table, “No! It’s a mistake!” he screamed as he stopped against the wall. Mantis remained calmly at the table with his eyes closed.
            “Please tell me it’s a mistake!” Mark whimpered as he sank slowly to the floor, Mantis looked at him and felt pity. A gentle breeze blew through the open window, fluttering the pages of an open book on the table.
            “I would gladly have told you otherwise,” the Alterer said as he slowly got out of his chair, “but the circumstances leave me no other choice”. He began walking slowly towards the boy with both hands behind him.
            “How are they so sure it’s me?” Mark asked from the floor, his head resting on his arms and knees.
          “With a detailed prophecy like that, a very skilled Alterer can analyze the sequence of the writing and predict future situations and events of the person that the prophecy involves,” Mantis replied as he stopped in front of the boy, “that’s probably how they knew of your activities, using the prophecy like a timetable for your life in an attempt to get to you”.
            “No way…,” Mark murmured as he raised his head and looked at the now kneeling Mantis, “b-but it just can’t be, nothing makes sense,” he said.
      Mantis gently placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder; he smiled but failed to hide the worry in his eyes. 
              “Tell me honestly if you believe it,” Mark said, looking directly into the man’s eyes. The room fell silent as Mantis looked at the stone floor beneath them.
              “No…, I don’t,” he finally replied and got up, “it’s like you said, nothing makes sense”.
            “But Loren does,” Mark said, his eyes still on the Alterer.
            “Yes, he does,” Mantis replied with a sigh, walking slowly back to his chair. Reaching his chair, Mantis looked at Mark, “Loren…has hope…in you,” he murmured and sat down.
          Hope. Mark felt something within that he wasn’t quite sure of, one thing he knew was that it made him uncomfortable. Mark slowly got up and remained by the wall, he felt utterly terrible, like one totally condemned without a second chance.
              “You willingly keep me here, knowing that doing so will only make an enemy out of the king,” he said after a while.
        Mantis laughed. “I have never actually been on good terms with Rodnab and anyway, who said I’d give in at the first sign of trouble,” he said as his face turned slightly serious, “Rodnab isn’t going to be the reason for me to abandon you”.
              “Then there shouldn’t be any reason for you to keep me as well,” Mark said, he wiped the trails that his tears had left on his face and returned to the table.
              “I sense immense fear in you,” Mantis said softly, his eyes burrowing into Mark’s eyes, “fear of losing what you have”.
      The boy blinked away from Mantis’ gaze. “You know nothing about me,” he said, looking out the window.
              “No…I don’t, unfortunately,” Mantis replied, “but when you try so hard to avoid what you fear, it becomes the most obvious thing about you”.
            Mark shot the Alterer an angry look and opened his mouth to say something; he suddenly stopped and returned his gaze to the window.
              “Just take me back” he muttered. 
            Mantis sighed at Mark’s words and nodded slightly.
              “I guess it can’t be helped,” he murmured, “Just when they were all starting to believe…”
        Mantis got up and walked to the door. “I believe you have something to tell Loren,” he said as he opened the door, “because hopefully he’ll be taking you back tomorrow”. 
        Without another glance at the Alterer, Mark left the room. He suddenly found it hard to do so.
                                                                  *
      Loren stood in front of the path leading away from the castle with his arms folded and eyes closed.
            “What’s your decision?” he asked as Mark stepped beside him.
      Mark looked at the path for a while and sighed, “I’m sorry, Loren,” he said, “I’m not what you’re looking for”.
      Loren opened his eyes and looked up at the sky. “Do you know what it is that makes us who we are?” he murmured.
            “Enough with the riddles, Loren!” Mark half-shouted in frustration, “What makes you so sure I’m the one? I’m not Bandor’s son!”
        Loren lowered his head slowly back to the path, “Why? Is it because you have parents? Or the fact that this is something you’re afraid to face?” he asked.
            For some reason, those words stung Mark intensely.
              “I have a family and a life! You want me to throw those away for something I’m certainly not?!” the boy shouted, “They mean a lot to me…, and I’m just starting to realize that”.
            For a fleeting moment Mark had a flashback of Tom laughing. Strange…, he thought, can’t remember the last time I said anything reassuring to him.
              “Besides,” Mark continued, “anyone would be afraid of facing something like this, even you”.
              “True,” Loren replied with a nod, “but all the same I am ready to die for you”.
        The man turned and looked at Mark in the eyes. That stare Mark had seen in Loren’s eyes when he had saved him earlier from Calix was present again as they locked eyes.
            “Then you should know how I feel,” Mark said and looked away, “about losing those I care about”.
          Loren chuckled and turned back to the path, “I asked you if you knew what makes us who we are?” he asked with a smile.
          Mark sighed and shook his head slowly without a word.
          “It’s what we do,” Loren said, he unfolded his arms and slid his hands into his pockets; “your family is in more danger than you think”.
          Mark’s heart lurched with shock, “W-What do you mean?” he asked. “They were drawn into this danger the day Rodnab and his subordinates decided you were the one,” Loren replied, “what you do today will decide a lot for them as well as you”.
      Mark smiled for the first time in the day, “Is that your way of getting me to stay?” he asked.
      Loren gave Mark a long glance, “It’s sad to hear you said that,” he said with a heavy sigh.
          Loren slowly turned around to face the castle, “Get ready, I’ll be taking you back tomorrow,” he said and began his walk back into the castle.
          Mark stood on the spot, he wasn’t sure if it was the fast-fading light of the sun; he almost believed he had seen tears trailing down the man’s face. He shook off the sight and looked back at the path.
          Why are they making this so hard for me? How can they have so much hope in someone they hardly know?
      So maybe I have a rare gift, big deal, it could have been anyone’s. By the time Mark came out of his thoughts, the sun had embraced the horizon behind him.
          The sound of hooves on the grass made the boy turn reluctantly; another one to express his disappointment with me?
          “Balker?” Mark blurted in surprise. The centaur smiled and stopped beside the boy.
          “No,” the centaur replied, “I’m Calker”.
          “Yeah,” Mark said as he recalled Balker as a twin.
          “Nobody’s angry with you,” the centaur said as he saw the expression on Mark’s face, “that decision was yours and yours to make”.
          “Yea, I know,” Mark replied, “but logic doesn’t change the true feelings of people”.
      Calker shrugged. “Well, I guess they’re a little disappointed,” he said with a faint smile.
        “And you’re not?” Mark asked, looking at the centaur.
        “It wouldn’t change anything,” Calker replied.
The centaur raised the arm farther from Mark to reveal something in his hand. It was a sheathed sword, shorter and smaller than the one Mark had seen with the centaurs that attacked him.
          “This may seem unbelievable, but you along with Mantis, Loren and me are about the only people Balker opens up to,” Calker said, tossing the sword into his other hand, “for an outsider like you that is very rare”.
    Mark was silent for a while. “What are you getting at?” he finally asked.
          “Our father was a great soldier in the Royal army and was killed by another soldier of the same army,” Calker said with a chuckle, “sounds ironic, huh?”
          “I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through,” Mark responded.
          “Yeah,” Calker said with a nod, “few people do. Ever since then Balker has had an unchanging silent personality practically towards anybody he did not know”.
      Mark found that hard to believe, Balker was way too friendly to have such a personality.
            “I began to wonder why he had so much interest in you ever since the first day you got here,” Calker continued, “I know why now”.
        Mark swallowed hard for an unknown and yet familiar reason. “He has hope in me,” the boy confirmed.
        Calker smiled and nodded.
        Mark fell silent at Calker’s answer, he couldn’t grasp it. Why have so much faith in someone you hardly know. To believe without measure in something you are not sure of, down to the point of dying for that belief.
          Mark took a long glance at the centaur beside him and shook his head. Calker’s gentle laugh reached Mark’s ears, making him look back at the centaur.
        Calker’s laugh ended in a smile as he locked eyes with Mark.
              “You know, believing in something you know is right brings out the best in you,” the centaur said.
        “Maybe…,” Mark said as he looked up at the now star studded sky, “maybe”. He sighed.
            “It’s getting late, we better get in,” Calker said as he turned around and headed for the castle doors.
            “Yeah,” Mark replied, following after him.
        They were a few steps from the large wooden doors when the centaur stopped.
            “I almost forgot,” he said as he raised his arm towards Mark, in his open hand was the sheathed sword.
            “I want you to have this,” Calker said softly.
            “Why?” Mark asked as he gently picked it from Calker’s hand, “I don’t think I’ll have a need for it”.
            “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Calker replied as he begun walking again. Mark remained on the spot as he looked down at the light weighted sword in his hand. He slowly lifted his head and looked at Calker, then at the entire castle. These were people who lived by a hope deep within.
                                                                *
      Just beyond the ring of trees surrounding the castle, an owl hooted forebodingly from the branch of a tree. It was backed by the harmonious chirping of crickets. There was no sound as the bird took to the moonlit skies, its shadow skimming silently off the ground.
    The figures of two men stood among the trees, practically invisible and inaudible.
              “Relax, it’s just an owl,” the first man said.
    The second man lowered his arm, the short metallic stick in his hand slid back into the shadow of his robes, “I know. You can’t be too careful these days; it could have been a fec”.
                “Then you ought to worry more about the sentries patrolling these woods,” the first man remarked.
                “Then let’s make this quick. This is the one we want”. The second man pulled a large parchment out of his robes and handed it over. “Take a good look and confirm it”.
                “A bounty, huh? Quite a sum too…” The first man chuckled as he raised the parchment into the light of the moon, “He’s here alright. The Royal Army must be pretty desperate to resort to this…”
                “Whatever they want to do with him is their problem, I just want to get that bounty”.
                “Fifty-fifty. That’s my offer”.
      The second man chuckled softly and shook his head. “That’s bold of you. To think that you’re not even fazed enough to suggest such a thing to me, especially considering this situation…”
                “Afraid? Of you? I live in the castle of a Class 2 Alterer. You’re a gnat compared to him”.
                “Class 2? Mantis, huh? I hear the Loren lives here too”.
      The first man nodded, “He does”.
      Even in the shadow of the trees the second man’s white teeth could be seen as he grinned. “Interesting… Tomorrow will be interesting…”
                “Tomorrow? You can’t be planning to attack them on such short notice?! You’d lose instantly!”
                  “Quiet!” the second man hissed with a glance around, “Don’t worry, I have the element of surprise. They’ll be down before they know what hit them”.
                  “You idiot! You burn down that village northwest of here and you expect no one to notice? Mantis is unto you”.
                  “I see…, that’s where you come in. You’ll be our inside man in retrieving the boy. I and my army will distract Mantis and the others”.
        The first man chuckled. “Distract? You actually plan to fight them to the end”.
        The second man grinned mischievously.
                    “You’ll die”.
        The grin was still present, “Interesting…”