Orena led Stanis through winding alleyways, cautiously watching her sides while doing so.

"I need clothes," Stanis said, curiously peering at the sights he passed by. It had only been two days since he had seen the village but it had changed so much in that time.

"I know," Orena replied, "It's where we're headed right now,"

"Then why aren't we going towards the forges?" he asked.

She shook her head while still looking ahead. "They're all busy right now and resources are scarce: it would take far too long for them to make something adequate for you,"

"So where are you leading me?" he asked.

"My place," she replied, "I've got a few sets of armour that should serve you well until you can get your own set,"

At this, the conversation stilled and the two returned to walking in silence. Stanis felt an odd calmness from following Orena; it felt like his old days. He used to be frightened of Anatoly and Orena in those days, frightened of everything and everyone in fact. He had looked up to the people able to stand their own ground, the people who controlled their own destinies. He was now one of those people, and yet, he still found his overall experience to be miserable. He was still too controlled by too many factors. He needed to be stronger, much stronger.

Stanis left his thoughts and got back to peering at his surroundings. He looked at Orena lifting a barrier up and noticed her lack of weapons.

"Where's your weapon? Your spear?"

Orena turned around and glanced at his expression, before throwing the barrier to the side. "I don't need it. I only wield it during battle,"

"Then what about the war-paint?"

"Habit,"

They walked towards a building surrounded by several others. Unlike the other powerhouses, Orena's house wasn't mansion-sized. Instead, the homely building sat in between several others, cosy in its place and cosy in its decorations. It wasn't small but it wasn't large either, instead a typical family-sized house.

"I thought you'd go for a larger one," Stanis said.

"This one is nice," she replied, "Something I can actually live in,"

He raised his eyebrows at this. "You've changed. You've lost your bloodlust. You're now meek," he said.

She began to laugh, and then chuckle. He felt confused for a moment before he realised what the question said about himself.

"Look at yourself," she replied. "Besides, that life is simply not for me. What's the point of all that blood staining your hands when you can't even enjoy life,"

"You can't choose what life you want any more," he said.

She muted at this and led him into her house. It became very apparent to Stanis that she truly was intent on enjoying life from the hallway alone. It was richly furnished with an oil-painting of an owl mid-flight on the right and a vase of bright flowers on the left. The floor was covered with a largely unstained carpet. There was a window at the end of the hallway that shone sunlight through, giving a golden gleam to the room.

When he saw this, he couldn't help but stop and stare. While this house looked small and unassuming, it was obvious that it was everything but that. All the things in the hallway were rarities now in the apocalypse, only salvaged in searches through old homes. She heard him stop and turned around, and softly smiled, clearly proud of her home. She invited him into the living room where he stayed as she got him a set of armour.

Minutes later, Stanis stared at a reflection of himself fully suited in armour. It was a tight fit but it also had a strong defence, something Stanis could tell after infusing it with mana. His skin was milky-white, and his hair was grey. The scars that had once made his body were no longer, instead replaced by soft and scratch-less skin. Even his back, which had been raw minutes before, was now healed up, as were his feet which had been damaged after walking through glass.

"What happened to me?" he questioned his reflection.

"I heard the man called Pete cared you to health," Orena replied from the door side.

"Pete. Why in fucking hell would he nurse me?" he asked, suddenly suspicious of what had happened.

"I dunno," she said, "Just that you were injured after fighting the necromancer, and that his group of goons healed you up,"

In that moment, the events of his death came back to him. He had been fighting Jen, the bitch, and he had been beaten. Stanis clenched his fists and stared hatefully at the reflection he had been curious about seconds before. He punched it and the glass shattered, falling to the floor and shocking Orena. He had been too weak; he had lost to that bitch.

He turned around to face Orena, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows angled. He had changed: she could tell from his aura alone. It was now sharp and volatile, ready to strike out. And yet despite this, she still met his gaze calmly. She knew he could kill her in seconds, but nor was she scared about dying. Not outwardly, at least.

"Tell me what happened after I fainted and tell it in detail," he said, a tone of command thick in his voice.

"They brought you back into the village, and began healing you up," she repeated. She stood tall and still, calm despite his instant transformation.

"Why didn't Rikkey or Kevin do it?" he said. "You're hiding something,"

She slowly shook her head, as if unaware of the mana building up in his hands. "You should know the answer to that yourself. Your friend, Pete, is more than anyone in this village can handle,"

"Fine," He grunted and pushed past her, into the hallway and out. When the door didn't open, he kicked it open with mana, sending the splinters flying,"

Orena walked into the hallway and peered out. Her door lay far away on the ground, or at least the parts that had once made it lay there. Stanis was nowhere to be seen. She sighed and walked back in, settling herself into a chair. She sunk into it and felt her worries subside.

She was sick of this world and what it had brought along with it. She had loved it at first, it had been her playground then, her own regal court where she had reigned Queen. But it was when she had ascended to Mosyte rank that she had lost her taste for blood and power. It tasted like shit smeared down her throat. After that, she hadn't fought in anything but the large-scale wars.

In truth, she didn't care about Stanis or the large campaign against him. She wanted to die, but she was also scared of it. This was why she still lived today, and why she had joined the campaign against him. She wanted to die, it would release her of all her pains, but she was also scared off it, after all, there was nothing after death. And Stanis Volkov was a sure-fire path to death; he had to be stopped.

****

Stanis strode into Rikkey's forge. He saw her clanging away at a burning piece of metal, her clothes wet with sweat and her arm shaking with each strike. In the room were also the other blacksmiths, all busy at work just like her. There was also Kevin at the side, helping heat up one of the forges.

"Rikkey," he called loudly.

Kevin was the first to turn around. He was initially confused by the strange man in front of him until he realised it was Stanis from the voice. He was almost going to chastise Stanis for talking in that manner to his babe when he saw the aura sweeping off of him.

"Rikkey," he shouted. This time, Rikkey, and all the other blacksmiths, turned around. It took them a few seconds to make the connection.

"Stanis?" she asked back.

"Tell me what happened after the war with the Titans," he said, the same tone of command thick in his voice as before.

"I don't know," she said," I wasn't in the fight,"

"What happened afterwards," he asked, suspicious of the way she responded.

"Nothing," she replied. "Your friend Pete took you and cared for you I heard,"

"We traid visit you," Kevin carried on, "but they wouldn't let no one in there,"

Stanis looked at Rikkey and she nodded without hesitation.

"Do you know where those three fuckers are?" he asked.

They both shook their heads.

"Alright, sorry about this," he said, before leaving as quickly as he had come. Despite their answers, he still felt something had gone on that everyone was intent on hiding from him. But considering how smoothly and instantly Rikkey had answered his questions, he found it hard to harbour much faith into his suspicions.

Besides, even if something had gone down, all he needed was power to get past it. Power he was soon going to gain…

****

Kevin looked at Rikkey after Stanis left. He met her eyes and felt the hesitation.

"Are we doing the right thing, babe?" he asked.

Her forehead creased and she looked worriedly at him. She eventually shrugged and got back to her work.