How much of Robin's current life was because of his actions, and how much was because of luck?

The question was among many haunting the tactician as he sat in the station's breakroom, taking occasional sips from a cup of rather bland tea that had long since gone cold. The day hadn't been going well for him. Already frustrated by Nombry's refusal to talk, Chrom was further confused by the orange haired drifter and his impossibly authentic Convocation order, and he spent the next hour or two pacing through the station discussing everything with Frederick. The problems started after he came to Robin asking for his input. The new Peacekeeper had been giving the situation some thought, and he came forth with an obvious answer; an answer so obvious, in fact, that Chrom surely just didn't want to see it. Perhaps the Grand Convocation really had hired a petty criminal to deliver their release order.

Which would tie the Convocation to Nombry's actions.

It made perfect sense to Robin. From what he understood, Chrom's father wasn't really the authority in occupied Plegia. The Convocation handled the minutiae of rule. Thinking of the pamphlet the Plegian prisoner Frederick had arrested wrote, Robin remembered Common Sense spent more time criticizing the legislative body of the occupation than it did the Exalt. The Convocation would benefit more from having the man silenced, and as such, Robin postulated Nombry had been a Convocation plant who used the arrest as a convenient opportunity to deal with a potential agitator. Amateur pamphlets had no chance of catching on if the author was dead, after all. Robin further suggested that the Convocation did this regularly. It wouldn't make much sense to have an agent in Chrom's Peacekeepers and nowhere else. Maybe the Convocation had plants all over Careston. Maybe their were dirty beat cops. Pegasus Knights. Palace guards. A system of crooked officials ready to silence any potential dissent as quietly as possible.

But no matter how Robin explained his views, Chrom wouldn't have it. Maybe the idea of a formerly trusted Peacekeeper being dirty from the start offended him, but Robin suspected he just didn't want to see the bigger picture. It was a problem inherent to policing. How tempting it was to think of police as the "good guys". They enforced the law, and what was the alternative? Everyone sits on their porch with a primed fire tome all day to ward off burglars? It was easy to want to imagine them as heroes in a simple tale of right and wrong, catching criminals and protecting the people.

But the problem with police was the very orderly nature a fair law enforcement system required. What happened when the laws they enforced were unjust? When they were part of a system that kept commoners down, forever in a state where crime was so often the only easy way out they could find? When law itself was corrupt, the police just became its enforcers. It was easy for a young man or woman to want to join law enforcement, seeking to fight injustice, only to find themselves a part of it. To fight crime at the bottom of society, they were asked not only to look the other way at the corruption of those at the top, but to cover for them. To help them hide behind legal systems. Robin could tell Chrom was one such person, having become a Peacekeeper because he wanted to do the right thing. He didn't want to face the reality. Patrolling the streets and arresting small time criminals was easy. It made the world seems black and white. It became a lot grayer to think the lawmakers themselves were part of the problem, and Chrom didn't know what to do with gray.

Robin didn't relent. The more he thought about the occupation, the more he listened to himself talk, the more sure he became. Chrom wouldn't see it himself, but Robin was sure he could. He was just refusing to, and the tactician kept thinking Chrom would come around if he just kept pushing. It didn't work, and the argument between the two men stopped just short of yelling before Chrom excused himself to another room.

Though the prince was no more than a few meters away, Robin had been left feeling as alone as he'd been in the Citadel when Chrom went to requisition a new sword. He wanted to be a good Peacekeeper, to actually better the lives of the people in Careston, but he also couldn't shake the feeling Chrom was still his one real connection to the world. Meeting the prince was the only reason he wasn't still getting by as a petty criminal himself. Hell, he wouldn't even have his new ability to remember things without the treatment he'd gotten from the Citadel. Now, as Careston faltered under the weight of Grimleal extremism and Ylissean police brutality, Robin realized his concern for the city was born from the same insecurity he felt about his friendship with the prince. He only knew the results of recent events, not their reasons. Not their causes. Just as he couldn't know why Nombry did what he did, he didn't truly know why Chrom had been so kind to him in the first place.

The prince had returned about ten minutes later, his voice calm and his expression remorseful, apologizing for his frustration. He assured Robin his input was valued, and that they were still friends. That's when Robin began a conversation far worse. It never devolved into an argument like the first one, but it weighed far more on the tactician's shoulders.

"Why?"

In the present, the conversation played out through his head once more. Taking another sip of room temperature tea, Robin ran his hands through his hair as he recalled everything.

"Hmm?"

"Chrom… I want to know why. When I stole from you, and when I collapsed from that strange vision, why did you take me in? Why help a thief with no records and no memory?"

"I'm sure you've asked me this before?"

"Then tell me again. Why did you help when you found me collapsed and without memory?"

Chrom shrugged, an amused expression on his face. "Well… because you were collapsed and without memory?"

"So that's it? Pity?"

Chrom's smile abated as he gave him a confused look. "What's this about? Look, about our argument, I didn't mean anything by it."

"But that's just it, Chrom. I'm only a Peacekeeper because of you. Everything I have, it's only because you took me in. You just as easily could have stuck me in a cell."

"That wouldn't be right. I could tell you weren't a bad man, and you clearly needed help."

Robin was silent for a time, thinking about Chrom's answer, and his voice was low as he spoke again. "But… I've been thinking. With your inability to see the corruption in Ylisse… and with what you're telling me now… it just seems like you're too naive."

"Come again?"

"I'm serious, Chrom! You're too quick to trust! I mean, when you found me, didn't you think it could be a trap?"

Chrom smiled again, but this time it was clear he was just trying to defuse. "That's what Frederick was for."

"You can't just put such trust in other people. Maybe this is the problem. Just as you trust Frederick to protect you without taking precautions yourself, you put too much faith in who you work for. You put faith in your father when he doesn't deserve it. You put faith in Nombry, acting like he betrayed you when he probably never cared at all."

"Robin—"

"You put too much faith in the system! In the Convocation! In the law! Maybe we could have avoided all this if you were more careful!"

Chrom scowled. "I thought you just wanted to know why I helped you?"

"And the answer scares me. I know this sounds weird. I mean, I'd still be out in the prairie if you hadn't taken me in. I just think you're too quick to trust."

"If I had a gold coin for every time I got this lecture. Robin, this is who I am. If I see someone who needs my help, I help them. I'm not going to change."

"But they're using you, Chrom! Showing mercy to a petty criminal isn't a bad thing, but I think someone is taking advantage of you. Whoever's behind this, and I'm sure they're Ylissean, they know full well you trust your countrymen too much. They know you won't ask questions! Please, Chrom, for once, be a skeptic!"

"You're saying this is my fault? The same thing that makes me want to help people in need is the reason why all this is happening under my nose? Is that it?!"

"In a way… yes."

Chrom scowled. "I've told you before! I help people! Ylissean and Plegian! That's my idea of justice! I don't put much stock into politics!"

"And that's part of why these incidents happen! You're not a bad man, Chrom, but your view of the world is too simplistic. You think policing is all about stopping criminals and helping those who have immediate problems, but you're too trusting of those in power. By being too naive to look up, you've ended up as just another cop that only punches down. You put too much faith in your countrymen. In your bosses. You won't ask whether or not this system you're enforcing even works. If I were a Plegian just trying to get by, and I had no faith in laws imposed on me by a government I had no influence over, I wouldn't see you as any different from any other cop. You can't earn the people's trust by being just like all the occupying soldiers they hate."

Robin's words had gotten to him. Chrom was mostly silent for a while afterwards, and eventually he retrieved his sword and several pairs of handcuffs and announced he was going on patrol. Frederick asked who was to come with him as he scrambled for his own gear.

But Chrom simply opened the lobby doors and walked right out. It was past noon now, and he hadn't been seen since.

"You okay, Robin?" Snapping back to the present, the tactician looked up to see Sumia standing by him, bending over slightly as if she expected his voice to be barely audible.

"Sure. Yeah, yeah, uh, definitely. I'm… I'm good."

"I don't believe that for a second. You're sitting here all alone, and you're clearly moping."

"Moping?" Robin had been mentally replaying his argument with Chrom over and over, questions running through his head one after the other. Why couldn't Chrom see the corruption he was indirectly a part of? Why did Robin have to be so blunt in convincing him? Why did he have to suggest what happened with Nombry was his fault? Did he really owe everything he had now to Chrom deciding to simply take pity on him? Robin's mind was a mess of conflicting emotions trying to win out. He couldn't even decide which question to focus on, let alone begin to answer them.

But the tactician had thought, perhaps naively, that he was hiding his turmoil. He imagined himself looking cool and collected. As it dawned on him that he'd been aggressively running his hands through his own hair without realizing it, he figured Sumia was just the first to point out what everyone else saw. "It looks like I'm moping?"

"It almost looks like you lost a family member." The Pegasus Peacekeeper said half jokingly. "Chrom will come back, Robin. He just goes on solo patrols when he wants to clear his head. He's a hands on kind of person."

"You really think he's fine?"

"Chrom's not easily offended. These patrols of his are like his version of long walks. He just sometimes comes back bruised."

"He gets into altercations? By himself?"

Sumia shrugged. "I worry about him, but we can't change who he is. No one can." She smiled reassuringly. "But I'm sure he's not mad. If anything, he's probably giving thought to what you talked about."

"I just wish I hadn't been so accusatory. I really, strongly believe that I'm right, Sumia, but I didn't have to call him out like that."

"But Chrom is a good leader, Robin. It's not just because he's strong, though he is. It's because he's fair. Even if you two disagreed, he's not just going to dismiss your views. He wouldn't talk to you at all if he didn't value your ideas, and he talks to everybody. He probably just wanted to clear his head."

Robin did feel a little better, though he was still anxious for Chrom to come back. "I guess that makes sense. Now I'm just worried about Chrom being by himself out there."

"Heh, now you're starting to sound like Frederick."

"Don't ever say that to me again."

The two shared a brief laugh, and Sumia got that same "eager to help" look Robin had already seen a few times. "Did your tea get cold? I can make some more if you want?"

Robin's clothes were still a little wet from the last batch of tea Sumia made… and spilled. "It's fine."

"I'm, err, sorry about before."

"Don't worry about it. It was nothing."

"Well… do you at least want to do something with everyone else?"

"Hey, I'm not alone. I have Stahl, Sully, and Tiffany with me."

Robin wasn't alone in the break room, but the three Peacekeepers in question were sitting at another table having an entirely unrelated conversation. Robin was actually trying his best to block it out. "And then," Tiffany continued in her kilometer-a-minute voice. "Cordelia and I could use my ideas to bring peace between Chon'sin and the Empire of Valm. Everyone would hail us as heroes!"

Sully sank her cheek into her right hand, caught between disinterest with Tiffany and a desire to argue with her. "That's ridiculous. The empire in Valm that's been eating up kingdoms left and right is lead by a crazy tyrant. What was his name? Walmart?"

Stahl shrugged. "That sounds right."

"Walmart won't stop until all of Valm has been subjugated. You can't just convince him to make peace."

"Cordelia could! She could do anything, especially if she had me by her side. The two of us would be unstoppable!"

"Why the hell are you so obsessed with Cordelia, Tiff? She doesn't even know you exist."

"Not true!" She insisted as she stood up. "We talked once."

"Just once?"

"Well, yeah, but it was great! She showed me how to make a healing salve. Me! She took time out of her busy day just to show me, and I only had to ask her thirty four times."

"Yeesh! You're a friggin' stalker."

"Now you can't prove that! See, one of these days Cordelia will finally notice me, and when she does we'll go on quests together! We'll bring peace to the land as heroes!" Tiffany formed fists with her hands and held them closer to her chest. "And someday, when my time is up, I'll go out in a blaze of glory. I'll die sacrificing myself to save a city full of innocents. Yeah! The grand finale to a life well lived. My lance shimmering, jaw jutting, outpacing a… a HUGE explosion!"

Stahl raised an eyebrow. "What's exploding?"

"That's not important! Anyways, Cordelia will be there, and she'll look up at me right as the explosion overtakes me which, of course, happens right after I'm finished rescuing a child or a puppy or something. Then, as the flames consume me, she'll see me and be awestruck by my heroism." Tiffany stared off into nothing as she lost herself in her fantasy. "And she… she gets it. Too late she gets it: she and I, we're the same. We're the very same."

Sully stared at her in disbelief. "Uh… Tiff? Why does your fantasy have you dying in it?"

"'Cause… 'cause heroes die. You know, after a life of adventure and sex and cool gear and whatnot, they die saving people. And everyone mourns them. Cordelia herself would speak at my funeral! It would be cool!"

"You're an idiot."

"You're just jealous of Cordelia and my connection to her!"

"Tiff, I've never even met Cordelia, and you're making me hate her."

Stahl looked to Tiffany as she sunk back into her chair. "I liked the part with the explosion."

Robin allowed his head to fall into the table. "Ugh, who am I kidding. I can't listen to that anymore."

"Why don't you go out and do something? It would take your mind off things, and it makes it less likely that Frederick will decide you need to return to your studying."

"Like what?"

"Well…" Sumia perked up. "You could go on a patrol."

Robin's mopiness turned to unease. "W-Without Chrom?"

"Does he need to be by you?"

"It's just that I've never been out in this city without Chrom before. I, uh… don't want to get lost." Robin cleared his throat. "Gods, I probably sound like a child."

"It's okay. Your new, and not just to this, but to the whole world in a way." Sumia stood tall, holding herself in a "notice me" kind of way. "And you don't have to go alone."

Robin could tell Sumia wanted him to acknowledge the idea first, though he wasn't sure why. "You'll go on patrol with me?"

"That's a great idea, Robin. We all have to do it, and this is a great opportunity for you to learn."

"Is it dangerous?"

"The Warrens aren't as bad as everyone says. Not anymore anyways. Besides, Frederick probably wouldn't want you handling suspects before your training is complete. We'll just have a casual fly over the city."

"Did… did you say fly?"

"Heh, I do have a Pegasus."

"I-I don't know. I'm not sure how I am with heights."

"Oh, that's fine. You don't have to go if you don't want to. I guess Frederick will just have to find something else for you to do all day. He could make you return to your studies. There are plenty more commas to give lectures on." Sumia leaned in. "Or he could have you cleaning the stables. Shining the weapons. Ooh, he could even show you the joy of paperwork."

"That's what he'd have me do?"

"Mm-Hmm. Especially if someone told him you didn't plan on doing anything else today."

Sumia held her sweet, innocent smile even as Robin eyed her. "That sounds a little like blackmail."

"I'm just saying. If you don't want to come with me, Frederick will certainly make good use of all your free time."

Robin considered his options. "Well… heh… how bad could flying be, right?"

"Yay!" Sumia grinned from ear to ear. "It'll be great, Robin. I'm much more fun than Frederick, and I'll show you just how much Chrom has done for the city. Besides, you'll love flying." Sumia was done talking to Robin, but he heard her speak under her breath as she went to retrieve her own gear. "Okay, Sumia, we have to restore his trust in us. Don't let Chrom down."

So that's what this is. Chrom's not the only one trying to influence how I think of Ylisse.

But Robin also felt he had no reason to be mad at Sumia. All she did was invite him to spend time with her, and patrolling was something he'd probably be made to do regularly. Besides, it was an opportunity to speak to the people of Careston directly if nothing else. Robin learned a lot the last time he was on the streets. Perhaps another viewpoint could help him resolve his own concerns.

Though admittedly nervous about riding on a Pegasus before, the excitement of seeing the earth sprawling before him as Sumia's mount grazed the heavens made Robin glad he went for it. In the distance, beyond the war torn remains of the old city walls, the Plegian countryside rolled out into the horizon. The brilliant light of the southwestern Archanean midday sun flooded the land, laying out the territory the Grand Convocation ruled before Robin. Plegia wasn't as fertile as Ylisse, but in a way this contributed to the beauty. Rather than endless farmland, Robin saw that all too familiar prairie, entirely undisturbed by man save for the roads running through it. He could even make out herds of feral mustangs in the distance, uncaring of the settlement nearby. Robin could see that the grass was patchy and brownish, however. The land here could only support so much, and the people of Careston could only survive thanks to extensive trade. Especially now, at the height of the day, Robin could see a stream of carriages converging from all over in front of the city's main entrance. The people of Plegia couldn't expect their land to always provide for their needs like the people of Ylisse. It taught them about balance, and it helped shape a uniquely Plegian identity.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Sumia spoke up as she caught him mesmerized. "The emptiness of the countryside bothered me when I first came here from Ylisse, but I don't know. It's kind of growing on me. Offers a beauty all its own."

"It is a great view. I can see so much." It was clear Sumia was trying to impress him. The two were too high to actually make out anything in the streets they were supposedly patrolling, but Robin hardly felt like complaining. There was a quiet serenity to the vastness of the dry prairie, but so high up were the two that other biomes gave tantalizing hints to their own existence. To the north, the beginnings of an actual desert could be made out, and in the south, Robin could just see the endless blue of the sea and the dock Careston shipped goods out of before the curvature of the planet cut it off. The air was pleasantly cool, the muggy summer heat mostly below them, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky to obscure anything. "You were right, Sumia. I could get used to this. I wonder what other views would be like."

"Hmm?"

"I'm starting to remember more from before I met Chrom, but I only recall hanging around here. I wonder what it'd be like to fly over that desert there, or right over the sea."

"I think I know what you mean." Sumia's look turned reflective. "It was nice to see new places when I left Ylisse."

"Where are you from? Heh, you basically know where I'm from."

"Marion. It's a trade hub in Ylisse outside of Ylisstol. It's a lot like Careston actually, but it's not so obnoxiously crowded, and it's surrounded by fields and fields of rolling wheat. The Ylissean countryside is so beautiful, Robin."

"But you like it here too?"

"It's funny. I thought this land was honestly pretty ugly at first, but I realized I liked seeing things besides Ylisse. It grew on me. Now I think beauty comes from the diversity you can see in our continent, and there's nothing like experiencing it from the air. To see it all roll out before you. This is what I really loved about being a Pegasus Knight." Sumia leaned into her mount, Belfire, and nuzzled the back of her neck. Robin thought it a little gross, but Sumia acted like her beloved mount was a favored pillow. "That and taking care of my Bel. My widdle Bel-Wel."

The sight of Sumia's affection for her Pegasus actually snapped Robin out of his trance, and he remembered he didn't want to just stare at nature. "Sumia?"

"Wha?" She responded casually as she continued to press her cheek to Belfire's mane, letting the wind blow the hair across her face.

"Weren't we also going to patrol the streets?" Robin glanced below the Pegasus. After a few seconds of being unnerved by the height—looking straight down was different from glancing off into the distance, after all—Robin's eyes scanned for Careston. Though the city was a blot from their altitude, the obnoxious blue and gold of the Citadel's upper dome caught the tactician's eye, and the mess of gray, brutalist buildings surrounding it soon became apparent. Even from here, Careston was ugly. It was a city ahead of its time; a jungle of stone dedicated to commerce, and trade, and profit, but not to soul, or passion, or a sense of community. (Truly it was closer to modern cities of skyscrapers than it was to anything medieval.) Robin wanted to go there all the same. "I'd like to see the city itself."

"Sure thing, Robin." Sumia readied the reins. "I'll take us down."

Robin regretted his decision somewhat when he realized just how much the two would have to descend, and he reflexively wrapped his arms around Sumia's waist and shut his eyes. He opened them a few seconds later to find the two were now soaring right above the buildings. Sumia had brought them down in a gentle downward spiral without Robin even realizing it, leaving him feeling a little foolish. "Oh, that wasn't so bad."

"Don't worry, Robin. I'm a careful flier. Cordelia is the one who points her mount almost straight up and down."

"Cordelia?"

"Look at that." Sumia said to herself. "For once a man knows me and not her." She glanced down to her waist. "Uh… you can let go now."

Robin scooted back. "S-Sorry!"

The aviator didn't take much offense, and she eagerly pointed to the streets below as her Pegasus gently cruised above the slums. "See how peaceful it is, Robin? This city's nothing to be afraid of. Everyone's just going about their business."

"It wasn't always like this?"

"Crime in the Warrens used to be out of control. Even reports of serious things like murder got lost in paperwork because there was just so much of it. People had so little faith in the police they'd form vigilante mobs. The Ylissean army was in charge of law enforcement directly back then. They didn't care. They regularly took bribes and did whatever they wanted. This was before the Maribelle Accords. Before the Peacekeepers. Before Chrom." Sumia flashed a proud smile to Robin. "Now look. Everyone's calm. Safe. It's all thanks to him."

Sumia wasn't wrong, but Robin couldn't exactly say the view gave him the warm fuzzies. People went about their business peacefully, sure, but no one was happy. Robin could see beggars and people scrounging through garbage. The streets were choked with market stalls, but there were few standing businesses in actual buildings. Almost everyone looked dirty and grimy, and the few people who looked more affluent travelled with armed escorts. Members of the neutral occupation police walked up and down the streets, and no one looked at them as respected civil servants. "Maybe Chrom really has helped clean up the crime, but it doesn't look like he can do anything about the poverty."

"Well… no."

Robin had his characteristic urge to do what he normally did when he wanted to know more about a situation. "Sumia, can you take us down? I'd like to talk to someone." He glanced over to see a young man and woman loading something into a carriage nearby. They were away from the crowds, making them easy to get to. "Can we talk to those two?"

"Sure."

Sumia brought Belfire down to a gentle landing by the two. Remembering he was technically the authority now, Robin made an effort to look friendly. It didn't make a difference as the young woman immediately tensed up at the sight. "Vasto!" She called to her companion. "Cops!"

"Huh?!" The man named Vasto looked up and froze. "Oh, shi… alright, stay calm."

"Cheese it!"

"No! We're supposed to be here, Courtney. Don't do anything to look suspicious."

"You already look suspicious!" Sumia boomed in her best attempt at a threatening voice. She turned to Robin. "I'm sorry. I know I promised this would be peaceful, but I can't just ignore this."

"I'm not afraid of them."

Nodding, Sumia brought her Pegasus to a trot and approached the two. She looked rather imposing for a second… before catching her leg on her stirrup as she dismounted. The Peacekeeper fell face first into the street, and Vasto and Courtney clearly had to fight the urge to snicker. They might have just turned and left had Robin not also been there. "Oww." Robin quickly dismounted and helped Sumia to her feet. He then tried to look imposing himself to help her save face as she recovered. "Now, what *clears throat* what were you two doing there?"

"Hey," Vasto snarled through gritted teeth. "We're doing our jobs."

"Is this how bad the profiling has gotten?!" Courtney shot. "Pegasus Knights will swoop down from the damn sky just to harass citizens now?!"

"We just want to talk." Sumia insisted. Robin stepped forward.

"You two aren't in trouble. Don't be afraid of us." Robin extended his hand, and Vasto reluctantly shook it. He knew how dissonant it was to try and go from policeman to curious stranger, and he gave a wide grin. It probably just came off as cheesy given Vasto's reaction. "My name is Robin. You're Vasto?"

"Yuh."

"I just wanted to hear a few words from people on the streets. I'm a Plegian too, actually."

Vasto looked him up and down. "You don't look like you're with the Theocracy's army."

"I'm not. I'm an Ylissean Peacekeeper."

"Oh!" Vasto said mockingly. "A founder. That changes everything!"

Vasto said that like it was the most insulting thing ever, though Robin still didn't think much of the term. He turned to Courtney and extended his arm again. "And you're Courtney?"

The young woman's face made Frederick's expressions seem inviting. "Bite me."

"You'll have to forgive my friend here. She lost her husband when the occupation police abducted him. His name was Conrad." Vasto glared. "Maybe you've heard of him?"

"Conrad?!" Robin's eyes widened. "You're his wife?!"

"Believe it or not, pig, the people you kill do have family members." She snarled back. Robin turned apologetic.

"We weren't the ones to take Conrad. Please, all I want is to improve things between the Peacekeepers and the people."

"What's one thug behind a badge to another?!" Courtney exploded. "He was everything to me, and now he's splattered all over the walls of a cell!"

"Courtney!" Vasto grabbed her shoulders to calm her down. "Let me do the talking." Turning to face Robin, Vasto also appeared to relax somewhat, perhaps figuring that Robin and Sumia would have arrested them already if that was what they wanted. "Courtney and I were both unemployed for awhile, and now we do odd jobs for a Plegian Councillor in the Convocation. This is all legal," Vasto handed Robin a few papers. "And if it weren't, you'd have to take it up with her. Now please. Let us get back to work."

Robin pretended to check the papers, though he really just skimmed through it. "We really just wanted to talk."

"Why?"

"I'd like to hear the viewpoints of average Plegians."

"Oh, so this is one of your crappy outreach programs. Look, we don't like cops. We've both had some pretty bad experiences with them in the past. You don't really want to hear what I think."

"Please." Robin knew he was treading on thin ice here, but he felt he'd regret it if he didn't take this opportunity to get another opinion. He'd never learn everything he could if he only talked to the people receptive of him. "Don't think of me as part of law enforcement. I'm a Plegian like you. I'm just not from here. I'd really like to know what you think."

Vasto took a deep breath. "Fine. You've got to be kidding me with that fellow Plegian crap. It's not just about Ylisseans and Plegians. It's also about power. There's a one percent that uses cops like you to stay in charge, and there's the rest of us. You're not one of us."

"But Plegians being with the police could be a step in the right direction. Whatever your misgivings towards us, we can change."

"Just stop it! You know what I think?! I think the police perpetuate the crime they supposedly fight! People on the streets turn to petty crime because it's the only way out from this poverty, and you police use it as an excuse to justify yourselves. Don't act like this land isn't under foreign occupation. The Exalt always said it would be temporary, and that it would end when the threat of the Grimleal had passed. That was back when I was a boy! It's been fifteen years! Your Ylissean masters are always finding ways to justify their rule. They inflict these injustices on us in the name of a greater good that never comes, and you've become a part of it! You have no connection to us! Do you have any idea what it's actually like to fall through the cracks of society?! To be forgotten?! To have no one care about you?! Do you?!"

Vasto's words got to Robin, and he began to involuntarily remember his time as a petty thief. With his retrograde amnesia slowly fading, Robin could vividly recall how he lived before meeting Chrom.

A younger Robin is sitting on the ground outside the trading outpost Chrom would someday find him at. The heat of the Plegian summer beats down on him, and he has no shelter from it. His clothes are dirty and worn, and his skin is covered in filth. He's sweaty, and tired, and hungry, and miserable, but worst of all is his crippling amnesia. Pressing his knees to his chest, Robin rocks himself back and forth. "Why? Why can't I remember?"

Glancing up, Robin sees a wealthy Plegian merchant woman walking by. She thinks of him as little more than a bum, and quickly looks away in disgust the moment their eyes meet. His lips trembling, Robin allows himself to fall over and curls up in a fetal position as he rocks himself. "Why can't I remember? Why can't I remember? Why can't I remember?!"

Flashing back to the present, Robin meets Vasto's stare. "Believe it or not… I do."

"Then why are you with the ones who keep us like this?!"

Robin could give no response. Courtney's anger got the better of her, though Robin couldn't tell if this was because of his silence or if it was always going to happen. "I've had enough! I won't just stand here while you talk to the people who killed Conrad like nothing happened! I thought you were his friend, Vasto!"

"Courtney!" Vasto sighed as she ran off. "Are we done?!"

"Yeah." Robin muttered. "We're done."

Vasto immediately took off after her, ignoring Sumia. "Come back! The Councillor will fire us if we don't do this! I'm not lifting all these boxes myself!"

Sumia glanced to Robin as he hung his head. "Protocol says I should take them in to verify their identities… but I can tell that would bother you."

"Let them leave. Please."

"You can't let what they said get to you, Robin."

"But that man was right! Everything he said was right."

"Come on. Let's go talk to someone else. He was just one person."

Robin got what he wanted. Talking to the citizens had given him answers, but it was an unsettling epiphany. Robin finally understood a reality he realized he didn't want to accept before. He truly was just a hanger on to Chrom, and he really had everything he had now because the prince took him in. He went with Chrom to get away from poverty, and because he was the first person he could remember that ever cared about him. All he wanted was companionship. Because he wanted to belong, he'd been drawn into a world of ethnic tension, stratification, and repression, and he was increasingly convinced he was on the wrong side. He still believed in Chrom, but he was losing faith in the oath he swore before the Exalt by the minute. Something had to change, and if it wasn't Chrom, it would have to be his new tactician. If the prince couldn't be convinced that the system itself was the problem…

Then maybe the cost of his friendship was too much.

"There's only one man I want to talk to right now…"

The Peacekeeper station was mostly empty when Robin and Sumia returned later that afternoon. The majority of Chrom's thirty officers were out on three man patrols, leaving only Sully, Stahl, and Frederick to watch the station. Robin was told Chrom still hadn't returned, but he didn't have to wait long.

And the prince didn't come by himself. "Gods above!"

"Sumia!" Chrom exclaimed as he stepped into the lobby. "And Frederick! Sully! Stahl! Robin! How's it going?!"

Robin looked him up and down. Chrom was escorting three restrained men, and they'd clearly resisted as the prince himself was bruised and bloodied. His wounds were fresh, and his breathing was heavy as if he'd just finished fighting them. Despite all that, Chrom was happy. Giddy, even. "Uh," Robin noticed Sully rolling her eyes. "What, uh, what's going on?"

"Chrom does this." She responded. "Whenever he's upset, he goes out and busts heads by himself. I think he intentionally goes to bad neighborhoods picking fights with obvious gangs."

"That doesn't sound like standard procedure. Not to mention incredibly reckless!"

"There's a reason why he keeps Frederick around, and I'm guessing it's why he made you tactician. Procedure and level headed ideas aren't his strength."

"Chrom, you got into a fight by yourself?!" Sumia worried as Chrom began processing the three.

"Sure did. I got a little restless. Decided to get some fresh air, you know?" He spoke quickly, and his smile only grew. "What are you looking at me like that for? I had to be out there. Saving lives. Making a difference. Protecting the people."

"Where did you even find these men?"

"Oh, heh, I just kind of ran into them. A few guys looked suspicious. I asked them to stop. Some of their friends came. I couldn't stop them all from running, but these three weren't so lucky."

Sumia winced at the blood still trickling from his wounds. "How are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling? A little excited! Heh, good work out. Talking to some of these guys, I think I interrupted a hashish deal. Probably smuggled it in from Chon'sin. Sounds like the Midmire Syndicate? We'll figure it out once we're done processing. Come on, Sumia. We're burning light."

"Slow down, Captain! Robin and I wanted to talk to you."

"Actually, we'd all like a word, milord." Frederick stepped forward. "We worry about you when you're like this. I know you're upset about handling this crisis and His Excellency refusing to help, but this isn't a safe way to go about it."

"Upset?! I'm not upset! I'm fine! I was just doing my job! Protecting the city! I'm perfectly fine!"

"Milord, you're getting blood on the floor… and it's your blood."

"Please slow down, Captain! You're scaring us." Sumia tried to gently nudge him towards the break room. "Just take a deep breath. Maybe get something to eat."

"And we'd really like to speak with you once the prisoners are processed, milord."

"Alright, alright." Chrom finally wiped the blood from his nose. "I suppose I could eat something."

Stahl didn't seem to pay the conversation any mind until just then. "Wait, not the doughnuts, Captain! I brought those from home!"

XXXXXX

Chrom rested for a few minutes and treated his injuries with an elixir, but he was still filled with forced excitement, and he had everyone gather around the break room table not long after. His unease from before soon returned as his Peacekeepers voiced their various concerns, but it was a conversation that had to happen.

"I-I'm sorry, everyone." Chrom said as he slumped into his arm, his energy gone. "I know you all worry when I go out by myself. I just… I needed to clear my head, and I prefer to do it while getting some fresh air. There's something I need to get out of my system."

"When did it get into your system, Captain?" Sumia said, her voice still filled with worry. "You've really been going at it."

"I… I guess I just wanted to help people again."

"Because you're not sure if you're helping people now?" Robin spoke up. Chrom slowly nodded.

"I don't know how to deal with everything happening. It's one problem after another, and we've never faced these kinds of crisises before."

"Crises, milord. The correct plural is crises."

Chrom sighed. "Thank you, Frederick. I stand immediately corrected."

"I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself at any potential police conference by accidentally using a made up word."

"Come on, Frederick. All words are made up." Sully snickered. "I mean, it's not like our cavemen ancestors went out foraging for 'coagulates' and 'onomatopoeias'."

"You know full well what I mean! Good grammar is a basis of organized civilization."

"Frederick's right." Robin smirked. "Using made up words leads to 'criminalism' and 'unsubordination'."

"Hey! One more made up word from anyone will lead to an official remand!"

"Guys!" Chrom boomed. "We're getting a little distanced from the conversation."

"We still haven't worked out exactly how you're going to address the public." Stahl added. "We don't want to increase their discalm."

Frederick's face scrunched up. "What did I just say?!"

Robin cleared his throat to bring the discussion back. "If I may make a point. Sumia and I went on a brief patrol today."

Chrom seemed to remember the last time Robin spoke to Plegians on the street. He could already tell where this was going. "Really?"

"The people of Careston are so distrusting of us. They view Peacekeepers as no different from the Convocation police. As far as they're concerned, we might as well have killed Conrad ourselves. Being transparent is a step in the right direction, but we have to do more. The people only see things in terms of us and them. We're not civil servants in their eyes. We're just enforcers for the landed nobles."

"We don't report to the Grand Convocation." Frederick stated as he crossed his arms. His tone was blank and matter of fact, and it got him an I know that look.

"Yes, but the people don't really care. We're just faceless lawmen to them. Remember, part of the reason why people are so upset over what happened to Conrad is because of a lack of communication. They just took him away like he was a stray dog. If we want to be seen as protectors instead of enforcers, we need to—"

"Wobin." Stahl interrupted, his mouth now full of doughnut. "Cahn we get da shwort versun?"

However Robin was about to answer, Sully cut him off further by letting her head slam into the table. "Oh my gods. Conrad this. Conrad that. I miss the days when Conrad was a knight from the legends of Valentia that fought with Celica and died a virgin. I'm sick of hearing about this Plegian arsehole!"

"What happened to him is a microcosm for all the problems with this occupation!" Robin raised his voice, and Sully scowled in response. "We need to be better!"

"Please. You can probably count on one hand the number of people who actually knew him! The people will look for any excuse to complain about us. If not Conrad, then something else. If some Plegian dark mage killed ten Ylissean Peacekeepers before we finally killed him in self defense, the population would whine and call us monsters. Hell, if we went around giving out free candy on ponies that pooped rainbows, they'd accuse us of trying to get to children or some crap."

"Ridiculous! Conrad was a real person, not some hypothetical situation! Ylissean police actually go around abducting people off the streets, and Nombry's actions prove someone is trying to silence possible dissent before it can happen!"

"Don't blame us for what the occupation police do!"

"But that's just it! The people don't see the difference! We've done nothing to earn their trust!"

"Robin… WE BARELY KNOW YOU!" Sully shot. "Who are you to say what we should and shouldn't do?! You don't know a damned thing about policing, and I think you're too sympathetic to your own kind."

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"You heard me, Plegian. Why don't you remember what side you're on?!"

"This isn't about sides! This is about justice!"

"You said it was a matter of us and them!"

"Don't twist my words! We need to put the public's interests first!"

Stahl's eyes flicked between the two as they argued, and he turned to Chrom. "*gulp* Uh, Captain? You might want to break this up."

"Everyone!" Chrom's voice was imposing at first, but it quickly faded. "That's enough. Robin's right."

"Chrom!"

"But you're right too, Sully."

That did little to appease the cavalier. "We can't both be right!"

"I just… there's no easy answer to this. I know you're all looking to me for guidance and leadership right now, but I have none to give. Maybe… maybe father was right. Maybe I wasn't ready for this."

"It doesn't have to be that way, Chrom. Maybe the problem isn't you. Maybe the problem is that the aristocracy is designed to withstand change, and we can't solve these challenges without addressing the injustices at the heart of this occupation." Robin looked to everyone in the room. "All I want is what I think everyone here wants. To do the right thing. Chrom, I went with you because I had nowhere else to go, but I saw a chance to really be a part of something after New Themis. We helped people there. We saved people. We don't do that here. I'm new to all this. Ylissean and Plegian are just words to me. I only know what I've seen, but in just a few days I've already experienced a city gripped by fear and hatred. We can fix this. The people of Careston could look at us like those villagers were protected did. We just have to prove ourselves to them." Robin and Chrom locked eyes. "But you have to see the system doesn't work. Admitting there's a problem is the first step to solving it."

Chrom was silent again, and Sumia saw where it was going. "Chrom, wait! I know what you're about to say, and I don't think—"

"I'm sorry." Chrom said as he stood up. "I need more time to think about this."

Chrom went right out the lobby doors again, and everyone knew it would be several more hours before he came back. Robin exhaled slowly as he ran his hands through his hair. "Well, that's not what I wanted. Can I at least have a doughnut, Stahl?"

"Come on, man." Stahl cradled the box. "I brought these from home."

Everyone perked up as the doors opened again, but the sound of multiple footsteps made it clear one of the patrols was returning. Frederick snapped to attention. "Now that some of the others are back, I suggest we go on a patrol ourselves. Stahl. Sully. With me. Protocol mandates a minimum number of patrols each day."

Stahl hugged his snacks in an almost childish manner. "The 'Frederick Codes' don't count as real protocol!"

"Put them away, Stahl! We're going! Besides, I have a feeling milord shouldn't be alone again. We can take this opportunity to search for him."

"I'll go too!" Sumia chimed in.

Robin nodded. "I wouldn't mind going. I think Chrom really needs us right now."

More than he realizes.

It was pitch black outside when Chrom finally returned, yet another prisoner in tow. It was hard to see the outside of the station clearly from a distance, and Chrom had little reason to suspect anything was wrong.

"Come on, Officer!" The young man Chrom shoved forward complained. "You can't prove I did nothing!"

"Yeah, sure. I suppose those aren't your pants?"

"Those drugs weren't mine!"

"No, no, I believe you." Chrom responded, his voice uncharacteristically mocking. "Everyone we arrest on drug dealing charges claims they're innocent no matter how much we find on their person, but you? You seem like a real stand up guy."

"You can't prove nothing!"

"You have the right to remain silent. I really wish you'd use it."

Chrom noticed the man's eyes widening as he looked back to him. He thought little of it until he finally turned himself. "Oh, hell! Grima protect me!"

"Calm down! I'm only taking you to the station. It's perfectly…" Chrom finally got close enough to make out his Peacekeeper station more clearly, and his face went white at the sight. "Safe…"

The prince's home away from home had become a warzone. Combat spells had blasted off chunks of the building's stonework, and the doors to the lobby had been torn from their hinges. What truly made Chrom's heart skip a beat was the sight of Officer Tiffany lying on the ground, a trail of her own blood going from her body to the station. Chrom's prisoner took advantage of his shock to bolt away and disappear into the darkness, but the prince had his priorities in order as he rushed to her side. Gently taking her in his hands and rolling her over, Chrom briefly felt a surge of hope as her eyes drifted to meet his, but it faded as the extent of the young woman's wounds became clear.

"C-Chrom?"

"Tiff?! Gods, no-no-no! Oh gods, stay with me, Tiff!"

"It's… not fair. I was so close… to being… promoted…"

Tiffany couldn't bring herself to speak any further. Chrom quickly ran his fingers along her neck and exhaled in relief to find she still had a pulse, but she wouldn't be recovering anytime soon. Gently resting his hand on her forehead to quietly reassure Tiffany he wasn't abandoning her, Chrom steeled himself and ventured into the lobby.

Things only got worse from there.

The station looked like a tornado went through it, but the mess wasn't what got to him. What rent at Chrom's very soul. At least a dozen of his Peacekeepers had been slaughtered, and Tiffany had gotten off easy. The others were undoubtedly murdered, executed in exceedingly gruesome ways. One young man hung from the ceiling. Another woman had her upper torso on the reception desk. Chrom couldn't see the rest of her. The prince's trophy case had been smashed, and in place of his awards were three severed heads. There were other bodies, but Chrom couldn't bring himself to focus on them. He didn't want to. Time lost meaning as he stood in place, overloaded by the trauma.

After a period of vomiting, hyperventilating, and vomiting some more, Chrom's mind eventually focused on the sounds of voices coming from the jail cells. Drawing his sword as his horror turned to anger—as he finally saw the chance to find who'd done this—he opened the door slowly and slipped in to see several armed men standing around a cell. All of them were rather unsavory in appearance, but their weapons varied greatly. Two particularly large berserkers carried axes, and several of the men appeared to be mages. As the prince silently approached, two things filled him further with blinding rage as he began to piece together what was happening. The orange haired drifter from before was with the men, and it was Nombry's cell they'd decided to visit.

"That wasn't necessary!" The orange haired youth cried out. "We didn't have to kill them all!"

"Oi! Quit being such a nancy-boy, Gaius!" One of the berserkers responded. He was a towering, muscular man, and his shoulders were adorned with pauldrons fashioned like large, draconic skulls. However, he was also a little goofy looking. Parts of his armor were purple, and his short brown hair was cut in a strange hairstyle. "You knew what we's was hired to do from the start."

"Not true! I am not an assassin! We were supposed to just break in and free Nombry! We could've restrained them or bribed them. We didn't have to kill anyone!"

"Shut up, yes?!" The second berserker drew his axe and shoved the top of it into the young man's chest, forcing him back. This berserker looked almost identical to the first, but parts of his armor were orange, and his strange haircut was distinct yet similar to his companion's. Chrom also noticed the berserker had Stahl's box of doughnuts in his arms, and he'd clearly eaten several. One on hand, it was a classic display of dominance to eat your vanquished enemies' food. On the other hand, it also added to his goofiness. "Who are you to have any kind of moral high ground?"

"Hey, I'll steal everything not nailed down, but I've never killed anyone!" The man named Gaius hung his head as he backed away. "I've… I've never killed anyone."

Chrom was able to get about three meters from the cell without anyone noticing him. Getting closer, he saw one of the mages using fire magic to try and burn through Nombry's cell door lock. The prince felt a small amount of hope; only he and Frederick had keys to the cells, and there was no way to unlock them when they were both away. If the men couldn't get in, then Frederick was probably still alive. However, Chrom was infuriated at the thought of Nombry getting away. Robin was right. Someone was trying to free him. He couldn't stand the thought that people in the system he served were that corrupt. He just couldn't countenance it. Whoever was behind this, he couldn't let them succeed.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Chrom roared as he angled his sword towards the group. They all turned their heads slowly, and no one was afraid of him.

"Well, look who it is?" The first berserker replied casually. "If it isn't the Hero-Cop. We were 'sposed to be in and out 'fore you arrived, though deep down I was hoping we'd find you here."

"Chrom?! Is that you?!" Nombry pressed his head against the little opening in the cell door. Strangely, his tone was filled with genuine worry. "I'm sorry! I swear I didn't ask them to come for me!"

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE LYING! YOU'RE ALL LIARS!"

Chrom's righteous fury was brought to an end as a fireball burned through his stomach, sending him crumpling to the ground. The mage responsible placed a foot on his back, and Chrom glanced up to see him eating one of Stahl's doughnuts with his left hand and preparing another spell with his right. "Heh, I don't usually like fire magic. It cauterizes the wound, and I prefer to see 'em bleed." A sadistic smile took him as he wiped away jelly. "But for you I'll make an exception."

Unfazed, Chrom tripped him up with his foot and spun around to kick him in the head. "Idiot." Shooting to his feet, Chrom was immediately assaulted by a hail of spells from the direction of Nombry's cell, and any number of enemies could still be elsewhere in the station ready to surround him. Unsure of what else to do, Chrom bolted out of the jail cells and flung himself behind the reception desk as the thugs moved to finish him. The prince barely had time to poke his head up and look before the mages began to bombard him again, and he could feel the desk being shot apart as he hunkered down against it.

"Oh come now!" The first berserker taunted as the mages around him continued to sling spells. "I think he's trying to hide from us, Victor!"

"It seems like he is, Vincent, no? Come out and face us, yes?! At least your officers had the courage to stand and fight, wot?!" The second berserker stepped forward. "We couldn't help but notice that trophy case of yours as we were coming in, Chrom, eh? Tell us, Officer—all those awards and commendations—what good do they do you now, huh?! What good do they do you now?!"

"Victor's" words gave Chrom an idea as he noticed his seven awards scattered behind the reception desk, and with no other options, he began to hurl them at his attackers. The Exalted Peacekeeper had a hell of a throwing arm, and he managed to stun several of the mages. One was hit hard enough to be knocked unconscious, and another had a few teeth knocked loose. The berserkers themselves were briefly forced back.

"Gaagh! Bloody hell!" "Vincent" cried as an award struck him.

Victor recoiled as one hit him in the back. "Ouch, no?!"

"It's about to get a whole lot worse!" Given a brief opportunity to counterattack, Chrom drew a hidden short blade from underneath the desk and leapt towards his attackers. Prioritizing the mages, Chrom cut one across the chest in an "x" like fashion before spinning around to both dodge another mage's spell and decapitate him with a wide slash. He quickly pounced on another as the thugs froze up in shock, stabbing him in the chest and bringing the blade up through his head.

But hardcore as his sudden counterattack had been, Chrom was still human, and he couldn't completely shrug off the hole seared into his abdomen. Hesitating as the pain became too much for the adrenaline in him to block out, the prince didn't react in time to avoid Victor's charge. The much larger man scooped him up as he ran, and he barely registered what was happening before the berserker threw him against a wall and slammed a knee into his face, shattering his nose and disorienting him. Victor then ruthlessly drove his axe into Chrom's shoulder, pinning him against the wall, and tortured him further by repeatedly striking his wound. "Is that the best you can do, prince-boy? Hell, it's almost a shame to bloody up so delicate looking a man, no?"

Chrom was completely outmatched, but he wasn't going down easy. He hit back best he could, even biting Victor at one point, and eventually managed to almost gouge out the berserker's eyes with his thumbs. His defiance earned him a strike to the throat from Vincent, and Chrom finally collapsed entirely as Victor slowly withdrew his axe. "Oi! Cheeky little bastard! I'll bash yur feckin' head in, mate, I swear on me nan!"

"Not here, yes?" Victor stated as he stepped in front of Vincent. "We can't just kill the prince of Ylisse, hmm?"

"No… but if something were to happen to him…"

"The streets around here are dangerous at night, no?"

Chrom could feel his throat filling with blood, but he defiantly spoke all the same. "You… won't get away with this…"

Vincent just smiled as he began to pass out. "You should've let Nombry go, Hero-Cop. Hopefully your replacement will know better. Come on, Victor. Let's take him outside."

XXXXXX

Victor, Vincent, and a handful of surviving mages callously dragged Chrom for almost two city blocks before setting him down in a particularly dilapidated alleyway. Having been manhandled the whole way there, Chrom realized the full extent of his injuries as his muscles screamed at him the moment he tried to put weight on them. The thrill of battle and the rage from what the thugs had done were mostly gone, leaving him with nothing to dull his pain. No matter how desperately Chrom wanted to fight, to keep them from getting away with everything, he couldn't ignore an arm about to fall off and a hole in his stomach. The pain cascaded with every passing second, and the prince was fighting for breath by the time the thugs finally let him go. As he glanced up to see Victor's smug grin, he understood that his personal war on crime was over.

He lost.

"'Er we are." Vincent beamed as he brushed off his hands in an exaggerated manner. "When they find him 'er, they'll assume he was ambushed by gangs. No one'll suspect we 'ad anything to do with it."

"And even if they do, they'll have no way to prove it, no?" Victor cracked his knuckles. "Though we also have to make sure he actually dies here, yes?"

"Will you be doing the honors, darling?"

"It would be my pleasure, would it not?"

One of the mages superheated his own hand with fire magic and jabbed it into Chrom's back, making him involuntarily arc his spine and look upwards. Victor immediately struck him in the face. The berserker hit like a carriage, and Chrom's sense of reality was knocked from his head. He never got it back as Victor didn't relent, and the rest of the world fell away as Chrom began to pass out. His whole body still cried out in agony, but the pain slowly left him. It wasn't that his injuries were any better. Quite the opposite. Rather, Chrom had given up on ever recovering. He began to accept his fate, and his mind seemed to let go of his body.

Images flashed before his eyes as the rest of Chrom's senses failed him. He saw his father's face in a rare moment of smiling. He saw Emmeryn and Lissa, both nodding to him. Finally, he saw Sumia, of all people. The Pegasus Knight's soft features were caught in a look of worry, but it was oddly peaceful to Chrom.

With that final sight, the prince was mercifully able to feel a serenity of sorts as everything went black.

R.I.P. Chrom (2012-2019)