The visibly grumpy Bromy sat cross-legged outside of the L.F.T.O base.

“They’ve got some nerve…” Bromy thought, looking inside of the base through one of the many windows.

Bonifacius discussed the premature capture of Zack with Curstl over the friends-menu.

Bromy reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette which he place into his mouth followed by an exhausted sigh.

The short grass danced in the gentle breeze as the ever-present clouds loomed above.

Bromy’s presence alone was more than enough to breath new life into the soil as he effortlessly created a leafy tent for himself to stay in until the others stopped acting unreasonable.

He swung back and forward on a green, waxy hammock made from a large, sturdy leaf.

“I mean, I’m no master psychologist, but I can tell a bad guy when I see one!” he chuckled, crossing one hand behind his head as an improvised pillow as he held a book up with the other.

“Mosses, Fungi and Lichens by Bromy, re-written by CavemanGeorge.” read the title.

“Let’s see how much they got right…” he thought with a smug smile.

That’s when the doors to the L.F.T.O base burst open revealing a very sombre-looking Bonifacius.

Faking disinterest, Bromy didn’t take his eyes off his book.

Wearing his usual armour, Bonifacius approached the leisurely druid.

“I have contacted Curstl about Zack…” Bonifacius began.

Bromy flipped the page of the book, he made a mental note to commend whoever this CavemanGeorge was for his accurate recreation of Bromy’s original work.

“It would appear he fled the facility or perhaps… somebody removed him from it…” he explained.

The expression on Bonifacius face was confused, as if his failed attempts at justifying Zack’s alleged escape left him even more doubtful of the innocence he was so certain of.

A part, nay, all of Bonifacius wished to believe that Zack was innocent, he wished the stamp-killer was seen whilst Zack was kept in prison proving his innocence, certainly, Zack would have came to the same conclusion.

If nothing else, Bonifacius couldn’t doubt the man’s intelligence.

Bonifacius remained silent as if he was allowing for Bromy to squeeze in an “I told you so.” or something other of that nature.

“I was always fond of mimic-shrooms…” Bromy thought, seeing the beautifully recreated images of the several stages of mimic moss, first it grows over an object as a thin, skin-like layer, then it slowly dissolves the surface and sprouts fungus of matching colour to the item digested.

Bromy found it fascinating how a living, brainless organism could mimic the intentional looks of a man-made object.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t listening to Bonifacius, but he knew that the best he could get from him would be an uncertain apology.

Naturally, the thought of his party blindly trusting him was quite tempting, but he hoped they had the brains to notice Zack’s suspicious activity themselves.

Was being a little awkward really proof of his innocence, Felix acted like a decent person at times, but it was a façade.

Bonifacius wasn’t there when the murderer was waltzing around right under his and Alex’s nose while pretending to be on their side.

He couldn’t blame Bonifacius for that.

But he could blame him for refusing to honestly consider the idea despite knowing Bromy’s experience, not to mention the most recent developments.

Even now, Bromy could see the uncertainty painted on the tank’s face.

“Curstl said she would dispatch some people to search the surrounding area…” he explained.

“Is that so…” Having already finished his first one, Bromy put another cigarette into his mouth.

He flipped to the next page of the book, seeing the large, air-filled mushrooms which could be found deep underwater.

Their spores had a unique property, namely their ability to solidify into a rubbery material upon touching water, it wasn’t uncommon for divers to plunge right into the mushroom, the hole left after their rude entry immediately “clotting” thanks to the spores.

“I do not wish to say Zack is guilty… but I feel I owe thee an apology, in face of the recent events I see why thy suspicions have been brought to the surface.”

Bromy rolled his eyes, the emotional war at two fronts left Bonifacius even sadder than before.

With a lout snap, Bromy shut his book and rolled around in his hammock to face Bonifacius.

“Dude… I don’t want your apology.” he began.

“Though I guess I don’t mind getting one…” he thought.

“But for the safety of you and by extension the rest of the guild…”

“Admit Zack is the killer.” Bromy requested, leaving Bonifacius speechless once again.

Bromy pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s not even about who was right and wrong, I’ll bully you after this is all dealt with.”

“A redemption arc is a cool idea, I know how you feel, but a person that is rotten to the core will always be a bad person.”

Bonifacius folded his arms, unwilling to accept that idea.

“For now… we need to find Zack…” the audibly crushed Bonifacius replied, his voice was flat.

“And then what?” Bromy asked, awaiting Bonifacius’ crucial response.

It felt weird looking at Bonifacius in such a state, still, a sad voice wasn’t about to undo all the effort Bromy went through in the last few days, trying to plant the concept of untreatable evil in Bonifacius’ thick skull.

“We will capture him…” Bonifacius explained.

Bromy wasn’t in the mood to smile, though it was a victory for him.

“Yeah.”

He put his book away into his pocket and with a snap of his fingers dismissed his tent leaving the garden pristine as always.

“Let’s split up and look for the bastard!” he exclaimed with a mere imitation of the confident thumbs-up Bonifacius lacked the strength to offer.

The tank only nodded meekly.

“JohnWillStab is already out looking with Alexander…” he explained.

Many hours later…

The sun was beginning to set, every member of the L.F.T.O was given magic lanterns which could be enabled and disable with a simple voice command from the user.

John and Alex availed of the shortcuts that were the many rooves, a feature quite common in this and most other cities.

Bromy and Bonifacius searched alone, each inspecting a different part of the city, far more thoroughly than usual.

Amidst an unremarkable alley filled with unremarkable homes and businesses, he heard it.

“Bonifacius!” exclaimed the young-sounding voice of the tank’s pupil.

Uncertainly, the bearded man spun around to face him, his expression proved he wished not to be the one who found the suspect.

“Thank god I found you!” he explained, wearing his usual hoodie.

Bonifacius turned to face Zack fully without saying anything.

“I barely managed to escape the prison alive! It must have been Bromy who told them to arrest me!” he exclaimed, breathlessly.

Bonifacius took a step towards him.

“We need to get out of here! The killer will make his move soon!” he warned, completely unfazed by how suspicious he sounded.

Bonifacius came even closer.

“B-Bonifacius?” he asked before feeling the firm grip around his wrist.

“Wha-…?”

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Zachary…” Bonifacius said in a pleading tone, he was saying this more out of consideration of himself than Zack.

Neither of them said anything for several seconds.

“What do you mean? Make what harder?” Zack asked, anxiously.

The following silence confirmed his worst fear.

“You think I’m the killer, don’t you?” finally asked, the end to the uncertainty almost felt like a relief, not really.

“It’s not as if I didn’t give you guys all that much to trust me for…” he replied.

Bonifacius’ shaky hand refused to let go, nevertheless, he did listen.

With a sigh, Zack allowed a piece of his façade to crack.

“It feels weird to say it like this… but I really tried.” he finally said.

He breathed a sigh.

“It wasn’t easy for me you know, alone with all the power I could ask for…”

Bonifacius gritted his teeth as his grasp over the stranger became even stronger.

“You would not believe how hard I tried not to let it go to my head, this was meant to be a fresh start!”

His voice sounded winy, as if he was giving out to somebody, maybe it was Lorb.

“GOD KNOWS - I tried!” he exclaimed allowing the occasional note of laughter to slip out of his mouth.

He looked up and breathed a sigh, trying his best to collect himself.

“Since the day I got sent into this so-called fantasy I have been doing my FUCKING best to be a good person!” he laughed.

“So much trying, trying not to exploit anyone, trying to plan things out for a happy future!”

“Even as the few things good about this world crumbled away, I did my best… I really did…”

He pulled his hand back, unable to escape Bonifacius’ grip, the tank spun around, ready to restrain the murderer only to find a wooden stamp pressed to his forehead with a wet tap.

“ZACHARY…-” in mere seconds, Bonifacius’ vision began to turn black.

He froze there, he was faced with the crooked smile of his past pupil, a few tears crept down his face.

“But I think I can try a bit longer…” he said, pulling the stamp back and revealing the image of a bed with several “Z”s.

It was a sleep stamp, and not a very strong one at that.

As Bonifacius collapsed to the ground, Zachary slowly moved the giant of a man out of sight and next to a pile of stray boxes.

Zack could already see the ink beginning to disappear, one tiny dot at a time.

“I’m not expert at this…” he admitted to himself before his face became contorted.

This “rejection” if you will, was a lot worse than Zack expected.

He glanced down to his watch seeing that the time was nearing midnight.

He rushed out of the alley and into the open courtyard where he saw him.

The masked figure, clad in black.

Their mask covered in various stamps.

Back to take remaining scraps of humanity away from their detested foe.

No longer able to postpone this fight for fear of anybody else getting involved, Zack relented.