The next day, Kreig made a point of sitting right next to Gerald at breakfast, to observe him as closely as possible. The anxious way he glanced at Kreig between his small, uncertain bites. The uncomfortable shifting. The slight tremble in his shoulders. Kreig absorbed it all, took it in, and applied it to his mental image of Gerald. How he was. Like a little hare. Yes, he felt much like a rabbit. Always ready to run away.

For a week, Kreig studied this angle of Gerald, every little fearful gesture he gave. And every night, he’d draw how he understood him, with just a little more personal accuracy every time.

His cell, formerly littered with monsters and people from his former life, memorabilia he’d almost forgotten, was now covered in a dozen of pictures and paintings of Gerald, each more frightful than the next. By the very end of it, Kreig could paint a picture of Gerald that would successfully evoke terror and fright into anyone who saw it. He painted pictures of Gerald as a soldier, his spear wobbly in his terrified arms, or lying in the mud, or sitting behind a rock, peering up at Kreig with eyes as large as hollowed burrows.

And it was never right.

It was Gerald as Kreig had known him right before they entered and left the portal. If he had not met Gerald in the Upper Level, he would consider these anxious paintings to be the true Gerald, as that was the only form of him that Kreig had seen. But now, after this week of sticking close to the boy, he knew him to be more than that. Every so often, Gerald would glance away, catch the eye of the other Empirical soldiers, and he’d give the faintest smile of camaraderie. At other times, while his mind was enamoured with anything except Kreig, he’d stare out over the ocean so readily visible from the prison island, and the mildest look of solemn longing would swim in his eyes.

Kreig could not capture these moments. They were rare, and with Kraig at Gerald’s side every minute, the boy was more likely to show apprehension and discontent than any other emotion.

He needed a different approach. A way to ensure that he could see Gerald for who he truly was, not just who he was when Kreig was around.

Kreig called this strategy the “Stalk and Observe” method. He did not stay close to Gerald and he did not speak to Gerald. But he watched him.

----------

-Did he do something wrong? Had he committed some grave sin to deserve this fate?

Not only did War appear out of nowhere as if he was anywhere near the same kind of human person as the rest of the prisoners, but he was also acting extremely strangely.

And by strangely, Gerald, of course, meant that he acted human.

He ate food, he occasionally spoke, and, most damning of all… he had a face. He wasn’t wearing armour that hid his features. Gerald should have been more afraid than he was, but he couldn’t help it. Sure, every time he saw War he thought of running, but he understood very well himself that he wasn’t acting out of pure fear and terror, unlike how he’d been on the-,

...The place he was in before he came to this world. That place. Where he met War.

War back then had been a… a machine of human destruction. Death incarnate. But the second he took off his helmet and his armour and spoke the language of the Empire… All of a sudden, he wasn’t just War anymore. He was Human. Human and sticking to Gerald like glue, despite how clearly unhappy that made Gerald. But every day Gerald saw War, every day he looked into his eyes… he felt less afraid. He knew it was War, hell, he was the only one who knew it was War, but…

At some point, he started considering War less of a natural disaster and more of a person. A human being who followed him around everywhere and didn’t say a word but would reluctantly play basketball with him if he asked him to.

So, then, why in the world had War suddenly taken such a distance? One day he sat mere inches from Gerald at breakfast and the next he was sitting at a whole other table. Still staring at him, but further away.

It felt… Eerie, of course, War was an intimidating man, but even more so… All of a sudden, in a way Gerald couldn’t understand… he felt lonely.

He’d come here with War. He’d gone to the same interrogation place as War. He’d gone to the same prison as War.

They’d been next to each other all the way, as unhappy as Gerald had been about it, and now that War just left him to his own devices, he abruptly felt more alone than ever. Sure, the other soldiers of the Empire were his friends and all, but in that group, there was nobody he considered himself really close to. Nobody he might consider a possible fr-,

-Of course, not that he’d ever consider a bastard murderer such as War his friend. That’d be extremely silly.

...Still, seeing War sitting over by himself, staring at Gerald from far aways… it felt bad.

In a very strange way.

--------

Gerald started acting differently almost the first day. He seemed… anxious, to see Kreig in a different spot. He acted off the entire day, eating less than usual, not playing basketball with the others… Something had happened, and Kreig considered quite seriously that Gerald must think that Kreig was up to something unkind or threatening, or even that he was now free to do what he wanted.

Either way, Kreig was there to observe it. He put to mind every detail.

The times Gerald spent alone, staring off at the sea, grew more frequent as well as long-lasting. The other soldiers didn’t disturb him, believing that everyone had their ways of coping with their battles, while Kreig looked on.

Unlike what Kreig had imagined, even by the third day, Gerald did not act any happier than before, merely more isolated. Alone.

At night, Kreig painted pictures of Gerald sitting by the sea, sadness mingling in his eyes. He never drew Gerald happy, only sad and alone. Something here was off, but he couldn’t tell what. It felt off. Something here was wrong yet again, and Kreig couldn’t tell what. Might it be that Kreig’s mere presence at the facility was the cause of Gerald’s sadness? Maybe it was what he had done before? He hadn’t expected any form of forgiveness, but knowing that his mere presence made his chances of somehow befriending Gerald this unlikely felt… bad.

Halfway through the week, halfway through watching Gerald grow more and more distant to the other soldiers, Kreig decided that enough was enough.

He had no plan when he approached Gerald where he sat by the Rockies overlooking the sea. All he was thinking about was making something right.