Darius appeared inside his cell the day after he was told he might get released soon. And even after a whole day of isolation, left with his own thoughts, he still couldn’t make sense of the situation, much less find it in himself to get excited about his release. What was he supposed to do, smile? Preposterous.

Somehow, Darius seemed happier than Kreig felt, although he had thankfully wiped that odd smile off of his face. Although Kreig hadn’t seen Darius’ face too often, he knew instinctively that the man was just not supposed to smile. At all. “Is there any good reason for you to lack a smile in times such as these? Your release is imminent!”

“...” Kreig merely stared at him. Too suspicious to fully understand what the man was saying.

“...Anyhoo. I’ve come to discuss the matters of your release in detail. If anything is unclear, please tell me. Furthermore, nod to prove that you both hear and understand me.” Kreig nodded. “-Yes, just like that. Now, first and foremost, on account of your conversation with your family, it is expected that you should live with them. Despite this, IOCRO will not only pay you monthly benefits to cover any unexpected situations, you are also encouraged to attempt to find and sustain a part-time job. Reintegrate into society and all that.

This job will have to be part-time, however, since during the days you will also be assigned with a private tutor who will allow you to learn and thus gain a high-school diploma. After earning it, you will be free to seek higher-level education should you feel the desire to do so. If you need or require anything, you will be able to contact the organization through me. I will act as your psychiatrist. A list of times will be given to you. Should you want to change any of the times we meet, I will be as flexible as possible.”

-Spoken fully seriously. Kreig nodded. Uhuh-uhuh. Made sense. Not that he actually understood any. He’d gladly live with his family. Closer to protect them.

Getting a job? Hoo, boy… been a while since he had one of those, though he wouldn’t hate it. And a psychiatrist? Although he really had no idea what that would mean for him, he was sure it’d be fine.

The only part he dreaded was the tutoring. Unlike what one might expect from a warrior such as him, he had, at one point, been expected to learn to read and spell and do algebra. His Lord had gotten him a tutor and he had almost slain the scholar in a fit of rage after the scholar told him, in the most pompous words that the German language could muster, that Kreig would never understand even the basic forms of calculus. Anybody could understand Kreig’s righteous fury, and ever since, Kreig had insisted on not touching books or smart people ever again.

He had almost forgotten that school existed back here. Something he knew from a moment that he wanted nothing to do with.

“...No tutoring.” Soft words spoken by a very large man.

“...Is that so?” Darius asked. His eyes narrowed. “...Is there any way I could change your mind?” Kreig didn’t answer. “...We cannot force you, however, should you choose not to finish your high-school diploma, which will surely take less than a year, you may find yourself unable to keep any job worth having. Through our help you may be able to keep one as a gas-station attendant, however, that is not something you will want to keep at forever.” Once again, Kreig didn’t answer. “...Consider it a favour to me. You may choose to drop the tutoring completely if you’d like, but I won’t let you do it before trying it for at least a week or so.”

Kreig glanced at him. Thought over it for a second.

Everything else on Earth had been ten times better than anything in the otherworld. He’d been treated better (for the most part, though taking Gerald hostage had clearly not been the intention of the world as a whole), slept in a better bed, and generally had a better time.

...Still, being tutored didn’t sit well with him. And yet… alright. It was a favour to Darius. He’d try it, but no further.

He gave a nod, and Darius sighed. “Great. Alright. We’ll have all your paintings and pictures packed and mailed to the Wiedemann household. You’ll be provided with a map guiding you to the Wiedemann household, along with a paper containing the phone number, address and email of Inma-, erm, Gerald Speerhalter,” Darius stood up, “and, finally, I recommend you get some sleep before this all happens. Here, we got some-, Fighter Craig! The clothes!”

Who would have guessed? In the doorway, poking his head out cautiously, was none other than Craig. His arm was no longer bandaged, meaning that he had no issues with carrying a bundle of folded clothes. Though that didn’t stop him from squinting suspiciously at Kreig, who in turn became even more confused.

“The clothes,” Darius said again.

Craig entered the room, put the clothes on the bed, glared at Kreig, and left. Kreig could only barely catch the way Darius bristled and mumbled “this guy…” Then, Darius put one hand on the pile of clothes. “-Here. Clothes. We may not be too heavily funded at the moment, but we have enough to provide you with a change of clothes. If you are unhappy with them, you can buy new clothes in a mall. After tomorrow… You’ll be free. Free to do as you please, free to buy what you can. Until then, I’m happy to have been your head observer, Kreig. Change whenever you wish to.”

And then, he left. Kreig could only barely catch Darius scolding Craig out in the hall for acting badly. Kreig waited a few moments before standing up and walking over to his bed.

Tomorrow. That’s when they’d release him. Give him everything he needed to live a normal life. He’d get a job, and a place to stay, and normal clothes, and-... And, by God, he was ready to cry all over again. He was thankful, Lord, yes, but he knew that if he clasped his hands in prayer, he’d make a mess again. He was happy, but he couldn’t show it. These people… Although they acted strangely sometimes and although they had forced him to battle, they had been kind to him. Kinder than anyone had in many years.

The time was late. Kreig decided to heed Darius’ wise words and sleep. No dreams. Just a general, ever-present feeling of exhilaration as the concept of freedom washed over him. Like flying without the visuals.

Freedom. What a concept. And soon, he’d grasp it in his hand. And everything would be alright.

...Assuming he didn’t make a mess or anything, that’d be a great pity.

When he woke up hours later, the very first thing he did was undress. No shame. He knew people could see him, knew they were just beyond the mirror, but he had long forgotten about such embarrassment.

His only real issue was with the clothes themselves. They all had this bland black and grey colouration that Kreig could vaguely remember was supposed to be expensive. Didn’t only nobles of some certain lineage wear black?... Or was it the royal family of the Tripusten Dynasty? He really couldn’t remember. All he knew was that black was not only really expensive but also somewhat of a heathen colour. Black mould. Unacceptable under the Holy Order.

Had he been the same man as five years ago or so, he would have burnt these clothes. Right now… Right now, he was touching them, feeling how comfortable they felt, accepting that this was his new life. He wouldn’t discard his religion, but he would accept a few minor differences. Such as this strangely coloured garment.

At first, he tried to wear it as he would pants, but he quickly realized that the third hole was made for his neck, not his… Either way, in total, it was a single shirt (the words ‘I <3 IOCRO’ emblazoned across the chest), a pair of briefs and pants, socks and shoes, and that was it.

It was enough. Compared to his overall, he felt tighter, more compressed. But the fabrics were of higher-quality make and overall comfortable.

He wore it happily and gratefully.

Then, later that day, he was brought out of his cell, taken upstairs, sat in a helicopter, and shipped off. No cuffs. No massive amount of guards. Just him, Frank, the pilot, and a single soldier. Simple. Easy. Freeing.

The sky seemed very blue outside. Kreig couldn’t get enough of it. Breathing it in, drinking it all up. Getting drunk off of his new wings and the endless blue sky they promised. Freedom. No cuffs. No nothing. Just him and the sky and the eternal freeing breeze. He grew happier by the minute, and the cherry on top was his family. He’d get to live with them! Him and them!

He couldn’t think of a more perfect situation in all the world.

The helicopter touched down beside a very large, very oddly-shaped building. He was guided through it by Frank (who still seemed a bit salty after last time), got to pick up his luggage(so many paintings), and then, as a final goodbye, Frank clasped a little metal bracelet around Kreig’s hand. Then, he left.

Leaving Kreig alone. Alone, and free.