On a hill overlooking Ylisstol stood Dartsmoth and the twelve Deadlords that followed him. He put his hands on his hips and smiled. "And so begins my job to capture Chrom and Caeldori… oh, and to kill those other bogans. Now you might be wondering why I'm here in Ylisstol. After all, the Grimleal control this city. The answer is simple. To find a bloke, you have to understand how he thinks. I'll ask the people of the city old enough to remember Chrom and Emmeryn about them, and I'll get a good idea of what he's like." Dartsmoth turned to Mus. "Pretty brilliant huh?" Mus didn't say anything. From what Dartsmoth had read about the Deadlords, Mus seemed to be the leader. None of the Deadlords ever spoke, and they only acted when someone gave them orders, but Mus always stood in front. Dartsmoth had also read that Mus was usually male, but the Mus in front of him seemed to be female under all that armor. None of the Deadlords reacted to Dartsmoth. They all just gave him a blank stare. "Ugh. Why don't you fruit loops rack off. I need to gather information from the people in the city, and nothing will come good with you mute lunatics hanging over my shoulder." The Deadlords continued to just stare at Dartsmoth until he snapped. "Did you not hear me?! I said bugger off you shonky, stickybeak, drongos!" The Deadlords finally turned and left, and Dartsmoth shook his head in frustration. "Those Deadlords are really starting to freak me out! May all their chooks turn to wyverns and kick their dunny doors down to the grass. Ratshit diggers. I swear to Naga, I get the weirdest people transferred to my command. If it was raining virgins I'd be washed down the drain with a dog."

Dartsmoth made his way through the town and strolled through the streets, looking for someone at least fifty years old. He eventually found his target in a late middle aged woman, walking through the markets with her granddaughter. Dartsmoth threw his cigarette down to the ground, extinguished it with his boot, and approached the woman. She tensed up when she realized he was walking towards her, and Dartsmoth's only reaction was to adjust his sunglasses and give her a sinister grin. "Hey there, Sheila! Might I have a word?"

"Wha, who are you?" She asked as she gently pulled her granddaughter behind her.

"I'm a bloody book binder from Begnion. You don't need to know who I am."

The woman looked Dartsmoth up and down and froze. "You… you're with the Grimleal! Aren't you?!"

"Aw I stick out like the dog's balls with this robe. Yeah you got me. I'm a ridgy-didge member of the machine. Now I have a few questions for you. Don't even think about coming the raw prawn at me, mate. I'll give you the rough end of a pineapple."

"W-what?"

Dartsmoth took a deep breath. "Agh! Why don't people in this continent speak properly? You all have such strange names for things. Like, you call fizzlesnappers 'firearms', or you call meat water 'gravy', or you call snuggle rooting 'sex', or you call slippery dippery long wanglers 'snakes'. I don't understand your foreign vocabularies! Right. Hmm, let me try using the local vernacular. Erm… howdy pardner! I know you may have some misgivings 'bout little old me, but I ain't no fink, ya dig? Did… did that make sense?"

"What?!"

Dartsmoth groaned and looked towards the sky while leaning back for a few seconds. "Okay let me put it this way. I may barrack for the men in charge, but that doesn't mean I can't care about the little people." Dartsmoth walked over to the merchant the woman had been speaking to. "Now what was the lady trying to buy?"

"Uh, a small stuffed toy." The man said in a nervous tone. Dartsmoth reached into his robe and pulled out a sack of gold coins. He took out a handful and slammed them onto the counter.

"Will this cover it?"

The man was still wary of Dartsmoth, but his eyes lit up. "Erm, s-sure!"

Dartsmoth took the stuffed toy and handed it to the woman's granddaughter, who was clinging to her leg. "There ya go, anklebiter." Dartsmoth rose to his feet. The woman was still afraid of him, but she also eyed the sack of coins in his hand. Dartsmoth tossed it into the air once. "Now was there anything else you two needed? Want something to eat? I'm buying, but only if you give me some good dinner conversation."

Kilometers away from Nowi Falls, where the desert began to meet the edges of the badlands, the Arch Surg convoy slowly made its way forward. Multiple supply carriages were being escorted by dozens of armed soldiers, and wyvern patrols circled overhead. Inside several of the carriages were the Justicar's prisoners. For the most part they were all kept separate and under watch. Gaius and Ophelia were together. Their hands were bound, and they had been stripped of weaponry, but even then a guard was inside of their carriage. Cervantes was intended to keep watch over them, but he had dozed off not long after leaving Nowi Falls. He still hadn't woken up.

"Hey, Gaius?"

Gaius looked up to see Ophelia looking at him. She had been quiet most of the ride, staring down at her feet and her bandaged knee. Now she seemed scared. Gaius wanted to alleviate her concerns somehow, but he didn't think she felt any more secure around him. "Blondie?"

"We… we're going to be okay? Right?"

Gaius took a deep breath. "I don't know, but we can handle whatever happens."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. As long as Chrom is here to lead us."

Ophelia smiled a bit. "You trust him then? I thought you hated him."

"What happened thirty years ago… it's hard. I… I can't forgive him. I just can't." Ophelia's expression grew more worried, but Gaius smiled at her. "But I see now that he wants to make things right. Things between us may never get better, but I believe that he can still help people. He won't abandon us."

"Thank you. That does make me feel better."

"He seems to care about you and your friends. You're probably just replacements for the Shepherds in his mind, but that doesn't make his love any less genuine."

"He… loves us?"

"He doesn't have anyone else."

Ophelia looked down and smiled. "Well I love him. I don't… have anyone else."

"That's why I can't forgive him, Blondie. He took my family away. Hang on to the family you have, because you never know when they'll be taken from you."

"Yeah. I know what that's like." Ophelia looked back to Gaius. "Do you think he loves you too?"

"This is getting weird, Blondie."

"Right. Sorry."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For how we met. What I did to you wasn't right. I want to protect you now. I don't really know you, and I don't forgive Blue, but damn… against my better judgement, he's inspired me again. I can't let the world be like this anymore. I see you girls and your determination, and I realize what I've become. As an assassin I was really just turning away from the world and what it was becoming. I was afraid to try and make a difference. I'm not going to let innocents get hurt anymore."

"Thank you." Ophelia felt hopeful for a moment, but she became unnerved as Gaius continued to stare at her. "Err, can I help you?"

"Oh, sorry. It's just that you look so much like your grandmother."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Now I've made it weird."

Ophelia jumped up in her seat. "Hey! I know! We should name your weapons!"

"Huh?"

"Every good weapon needs a name!"

"Does your tome have a name?"

"Yeah! Behold, Missiletainn of PURGATORY! Enemies will be frozen in an icy gale by my holy power! The power of the stars flows through me like a divine wind! Enemies who face me will be blown away by the power of… of a divine wind!"

"Missiletainn? Where did you get that name?"

"My mother gave me a book that she said came from my father. It was filled with scribbles and notes, and I saw that name in the margins."

"It seems kind of silly."

"Could you do better?" Ophelia said, somewhat offended. "How about your arquebus. What's that called?"

"I uh, don't have a name for it."

"Well you should come up with one!"

Gaius thought for a second. "Hmm. How about… rooty tooty point 'n shooty."

"What?! That's not a name!"

Gaius smiled at Ophelia's disdain for the name. "Rooty tooty point 'n shooty it is!"

"NO! It needs a real name!" Ophelia angrily crossed her arms and thought about it, but her face lit up when inspiration struck her. "I've got it! The Sunspitter!"

"What?"

"Because it spits out fire and heat at your enemies, like the sun itself. Behold! The heavens themselves will be split asunder by the thundering blast of the Sunspitter! Let the stars quake! Let time itself shout. The Earth will move and rock! A column of light will outshine the sun when the Sunspitter fires!"

Gaius chuckled. "I'll keep it in mind."

Meanwhile in another carriage, Caeldori sat with her hands bound together. The Arch Surg treated the injuries she had taken, but Keith had badly savaged her. Much of her face was bruised and cut. She had been deprived of her normal attire and instead wore tight undergarments, yet so much of her body was covered by bandaging that her normal clothing left more skin exposed. The guard watching over her was Pheros, and her very light blue eyes carefully monitored everything Caeldori did. She certainly took her job of monitoring her prisoner more seriously than Cervantes did. Caeldori in turn shot her a defiant glance, but as the hours went by she couldn't maintain it. She glanced around in boredom, and fell asleep at one point. When she woke up she found Pheros still studying her. Caeldori just couldn't take the silence anymore. "So… is this where you saw your life going?"

Pheros leaned back and seemed to think about what Caeldori was trying to do. "What do you mean?"

"You call yourselves heroes because you fight the Grimleal, but now you're torturing us, people who also fight against the Grimleal. How is this justified?"

"Not everyone who fights the Grimleal is heroic. Even brigands and psychopaths fight against the Grimleal. We don't just want to defeat the Grimleal. We want to rebuild human civilization. That means stopping people who are a threat to the world."

"How are we a threat?!"

"Maybe you aren't, but we have orders from Archangel."

"So you just follow orders?" Caeldori asked condescendingly. Pheros just stared at her for a few seconds.

"Caeldori, is it?"

"That's right."

"I'm going to take this conversation in a different direction. Why is there anything at all?"

"W-what?"

"Why is there anything at all? Why are there birds? Why are there rocks? Why are there mathematical equations? Why is the sun there? Why is the moon there? Why is all the universe there? Why does anything exist at all?"

"I… I don't know how to respond to that."

"It's not a trick question."

"I don't think there's a reason for it all. It's just the way it is."

"So you don't believe in a divine creation?"

"No. There are no gods. The Dragons were very powerful, but even they are not gods. They do not posses the powers of creation. Tiki told me that herself."

Pheros smiled. "I agree. I used to worship Naga and the Earth Mother, but I have abandoned my faith. I now see how illogical that faith is. Even if a divine being created all of the universe, that is not an answer for where it all came from, or why it exists. After all the divine being would have its own creator, and what would that be? Is there an infinite string of divine beings creating each other? Did random chance give birth to a divine being, so that it was the product of a natural selection of sorts even if we weren't? I say the question is illogical. If the universe had no beginning, then it's non-existence was never an option. Think of it this way. Either the universe has a beginning or it doesn't. If it has a beginning, then even a divine creator would need a beginning. The divine creator itself is not an explanation for why the universe exists. If the universe has no beginning then there is no need for a creator, as the creation has always existed."

"I uh… huh."

"How would you answer the question? Why is there anything at all?"

Caeldori wasn't at all sure what to say, but she did give the question some thought. "I, well uh… err… I don't… I-I don't think there is a reason. Things just exist. The universe just is. We make our own significance in life."

Pheros slowly nodded. "I didn't ask anything about significance. I only asked why you think anything exists. I like your answer though. There is no meaning to our brief existence in this continuance. We have to make our own significance. We have to give our lives meaning. Let me tell you about my life, Caeldori. I was born to a merchant family in a small town, though it was near a larger city. My parents were far from wealthy, but we were more well off than most peasants. We never worried about food, and we could sometimes save up for luxuries."

"Where is this going?"

Pheros ignored her. "As I child I was taught that the nobility was just and kind. We all worked for them and dedicated our lives to them because they would protect us and guide us. They were supposed to care about us and ensure our prosperity. This is the basis of feudalism. The working classes are bound to the nobles. We support them, and in turn they help us. We work their lands, fill their cities with trade and commerce, and fight in their armies, and in turn they provide us with opportunities to make a living. Specifically they provide us with the opportunity to work their land. The opportunity to make them money. The opportunity to fight in their armies. We are tied to them, but we do not need them. The working classes provide everything that society needs, and the nobles reap the rewards. The nobility keep us tied to them to control us. They don't act in our interests. The great fantasy of history isn't that strong men and women exist, for there have been many heroes of legend. No the fantasy is that the lords and nobles care about the common man. The system is rigged."

"What does this have to do with your childhood?"

"I didn't want to follow in my parent's trade. We lived well enough, but I wanted an education. I wanted to learn about the world. My family saved up for years. I even had to become a merchant for a few years to help save up. Finally though, I was able to afford tuition for university, but no university would accept me. Their official reason was because I didn't have the prerequisite knowledge. Where was I supposed to get that? I realized that it was only for the nobles. Only the nobility could have access to the tutors. The nobles restrict access to education to control us."

"So what did you do?"

"I took the only opportunity I had to get an education. I became a priestess. It was a religious education, but it was an education nonetheless. At the time I truly embraced religion. It gave me a meaning and purpose in life I had never felt before. I even made a pilgrimage to the Halidom of Ylisse to hear Emmeryn speak because she had holy blood, and because I wanted to visit the continent that Naga and the Earth Mother had come from. I thought that religion would give me meaning in life, but that was before Walhart."

"You were one of his generals? Right?"

"I had never fought a battle before I joined Walhart, but I had to be a part of his movement. I remembered how afraid I was when his forces first came through my city, but then I heard him speak. This was no petty despot. This was no greedy third born son who had something to prove. This man really wanted to better humanity. It was then that I realized why I followed my religion. I thought it gave me significance in life, but Walhart showed me a better way. I could actually fight to better humanity. Walhart may have died, but his dream lives on. The Archanean Liberation Front can achieve a better future, for all of us."

"So you don't just mindlessly follow orders." Caeldori leaned in. "You mindlessly follow the orders of dead men!"

"No, Caeldori. Back then I was swept up in Walhart's beliefs. When he was defeated, and I regrouped our forces with other surviving Valmese generals, I realized that I would have to fully understand my own beliefs. I know how to help the world now."

"How? Do you even know? I think the Arch Surg use rhetoric to justify violence and depravity!"

"The Archanean Liberation Front will create a better world. It stands to reason that the necessity of the existence of the privileged order, a group of enlightened nobles who must rule over the common man, is a fallacy. The nobility declares that without help from this order all the arduous tasks in the service of our civilization would go unfulfilled. Not only is this a lie however, but without this privileged order the higher posts could be infinitely better filled by those rising to the posts through strength and merit rather than through birth. The fact that the privileged have succeeded in rising to these posts is a hateful inequity towards the generality of citizens and an act of treason to our fellow man. Who is bold enough to maintain that the people, particularly of the working classes, do not have within themselves everything needed to constitute a nation? The working classes are men and women with their arms in chains! If the privileged order was removed, the chains would be broken. The working classes would be free. Our society would not be something less but something more! What is the working class then! All! All, but an all that is fettered and oppressed! Nothing would go well without working men and women, but everything would go considerably better without the privileged order. It is not enough though to show that the privileged weaken our nation. We must prove further that they have no place in our society at all! They are a burden to civilization, NOT part of it!"

"I…" Caeldori awkwardly shifted around. "I don't know. I think you make some valid points, but you're talking about tearing down society."

"So were you. You were fighting against the Grimleal. We will have to rebuild society. Will you argue in defense of feudalism? You are a Pegasus Knight after all. The Pegasus Knights have long been enforcers for a landed elite. You're part of the feudal system."

"I'm not a Pegasus Knight yet."

Pheros leaned forward. "What do you know of dialectics, Caeldori?"

"Hmm?"

"I hold no delusions of knowing exactly how society should be rebuilt. I would be interested in hearing your criticisms of my views. I present a thesis, and you counter my arguments. This gives rise to the antithesis, which contradicts the thesis. Together we can merge the strengths of our views to form a new view, the synthesis."

"I think you're all dangerous."

"Well that's not an unfair view. We do have you in chains after all." Pheros sat back. "But revolutions are not civilized. People have to be swept out of the way. Humanity fought to take the world from the Dragons. The Hero King fought to stop the Dolhrian Empire. Alm and Celica fought to save the world from Duma. The First Exalt fought to defeat Grima. You can look down on them for their violent methods, but you still reap the rewards of their fight. Violence is necessary to change society."

In yet another carriage, Soleil was held with Vasto as her guard. Vasto was clearly racked with guilt over how things had happened, but he didn't disobey his orders, and so Soleil had no forgiveness for him. She sat in silence, her smile replaced with a scowl almost comical in its intensity. Vasto tried looking away from her, but she never stopped glaring at him. Vasto had to turn away whenever he looked at her until he finally spoke up. "Please stop staring at me like that!" Soleil responded by sticking her tongue at him, then returned to her grimace. Vasto seemed to accept defeat for a second, but then he thought for a moment. "You know, this reminds me of a story."

"I don't want to hear your stories." Soleil snapped. She tried to sound as gruff as she could, but her voice still came across as high pitched.

"But I think this one is relevant to our situation. When I was a boy, there was another boy in my village who befriended a wyvern. He went everywhere with that wyvern. They were very close. It's what inspired me to be a wyvern rider."

"I don't want to hear your story!"

"Everywhere the boy went, people would remark on how spiky his wyvern was. I mean that thing was covered in spikes. It must have been older, or maybe it was just a deformity, but that thing was just covered with spiky growths. The boy couldn't even hug his wyvern because it was so spiky."

"What is the point of this?!"

"So one day some merchants come into our village. When this older man sees the boy's wyvern, he remarks on how spiky it is. In fact he tells the boy that there are contests for spiky wyverns. If he entered the contests, he could win fame and fortune. The boy and his family left to compete in the contest after that. I never saw him again for several months, but I heard about what happened."

"Shut up!"

"First the boy went to a small regional competition. The judges were blown away by how spiky his wyvern was. They called it the spikiest wyvern they'd ever seen. The boy easily won the contest, so then he went on to a provincial contest. Once more his wyvern was far more spiky than any other wyvern. At this point the boy was known throughout Plegia. He entered another contest to decide the spikiest wyvern in all of western Plegia, and he won again! By now the boy was a sensation!"

Soleil found herself fixated on the story. "So what happened?"

"So finally the boy enters a national competition to see who has the spikiest wyvern in all of Plegia. The boy is well known. The audience cheers for him, and even Gangrel had spoken of the boy's wondrous wyvern. Why even representatives from Ylisse, Ferox, and Valm were there. Stories of this spiky wyvern had spread across the land."

"Really?!"

"Oh yes. The whole world came to see this boy and his legendary wyvern. It was as if all humanity, if but for a moment, had put aside its arbitrary, tribalistic differences to come together over this boy and his wyvern. I heard it was beautiful."

"Wow. So how did the competition go?"

"So finally it was time to begin the competition. The wyverns are all lined up, and the judges carefully inspect every single one. After looking at every other wyvern, the judges come to the boy's wyvern. The whole crowd goes silent. The judges look at the wyvern for several minutes, discuss with each other, and then walk over to the boy. The lead judge steps forward and says… he's not that spiky."

Soleil was frozen for a few seconds before her face gradually twisted with frustration, but then she had to fight back the urge to laugh. "H-he's not that s-spiky?! T-that's… I can't… I-I… BWA HA HA! He's not that spiky! H-holy blood that's, that's, HA! Bwahaha!"

Vasto smiled, finally free of Soleil's sour expression. "Get it?"

"Y-yes! I-It's a long buildup, in the form of a serious anecdote, with a p-punchline that doesn't j-justify the l-length! That's hilarious!"

"You don't have to explain the whole joke."

"BWA HA HA HA-" Soleil finally got a hold of herself and resumed her bitter expression. "I'm still mad at you."

"Hey are you cold in here?"

"What? Is this another-"

"Do you know why the coliseum was so cold? Because it had a lot of fans!"

"F-fans?! S-stop!"

"What do you call an alligator in a vest? An in-vest-agator!"

"N-no!" Soleil's lips almost seemed to wiggle. "I'm still mad at you!"

"What do you call fake noodle? An impasta!"

"Naga help me." Soleil whimpered through irregular breathing. "I'm trying to stay mad here."

"Why did the doughnut maker quit his job? He got tired of the hole thing."

"The hole thing?! Mmm, son of a- HA! HAHAHA! S-stop!"

"Why do buffalo stampede? Because they want to be herd!"

"STA-HAH-AP!"

"Or because they herd a noise!"

"Y-you're killing me!"

Above the two, the driver glanced down at the carriage nervously. Soleil's laughing was distorted through the carriage walls, and to him it sounded like horrible screaming. "What are they doing in there?"

The supply convoy eventually made its way through the desert and into the dry, arid terrain of the badlands. From there it pressed forward towards a hill, with a settlement built at the top. Leading the convoy was Farber, and the soldiers at the front of the convoy were all under his command. The vast majority of them had never seen Walhart's Empire, and most were too young to have even been alive back then, but Farber had filled their heads with romanticized tales his conquests, and so they had become quite dedicated to an empire they had never known. "Come on boys and girls! We have time for one more before we reach the fort. Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song." Farber sang. "Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along! Sing it as we used to sing it fifty thousand strong, while we were marching through Chon'sin!"

The marching soldiers joined in. "Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee! Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free! So we sang the course from Castle Valm to the Mila Tree! While we were marching through Chon'sin!"

In the carriage behind Farber, Keith sat watching over Chrom and Tiki. Chrom was bound and gagged, and Tiki was absolutely coated with chains and metal bindings. She was still unconscious from what the Arch Surg had done to her, but Keith didn't want to take any chances if she woke up. Chrom was incapable of saying anything, but he wouldn't even if he could. He just sat in bitter silence and shot a look of burning, intense fury at Keith, who was sitting across from him. Keith just crossed his arms and stared back. Keith had worn his mask so long that the skin was around his eyes was lighter than the rest of him, and he also had acne there from not washing that part of his face. Keith's exposed eyes were a deep, dark brown, and they matched Chrom's own feelings and then some. To stare into Keith's eyes was to stare into a black hole, and in those eyes Chrom saw a hatred of all life. Though Keith claimed to want to help humanity, there was no compassion in those eyes. Chrom and Keith just glared at each other for so long that time seemed to lose meaning. The only thing around to remind Chrom of the outside world was the thundering noise the soldiers outside were making as they sang.

Eventually Chrom could feel the carriage going up a hill. The carriage stopped not long after reaching the top, and Chrom could hear heavy doors opening. The carriage moved again, but this time there was yelling and shouting as it stopped again. The doors to Chrom's carriage finally opened, and he looked over to see several swords and pikes pointed at him. Chrom turned back to Keith. "Get out." He responded.

Chrom slowly exited the carriage and was able to glance over to see Gaius and the girls also being lead away before the soldiers shoved him forward. Keith followed after him, but she didn't have Tiki taken out. Instead he closed the carriage door, and it was taken away. One of the soldiers removed Chrom's gag, and he immediately turned to Keith. "Where are you taking her?!" Chrom demanded. An Arch Surg soldier by him struck him in the back of the head.

"Never you mind that. Walk." Keith commanded. Chrom was put in a group with Gaius and the girls, and there was a brief moment of happiness as everyone saw each other again. It was brought to a swift end as the Arch Surg forces shouted at them and pushed them forward. Chrom glanced around to see that he was in some kind of fortress. Wooden walls tall enough to obscure the settlement's surroundings could be seen on all sides, and soldiers that hadn't been with the convoy darted around from task to task. Chrom couldn't see much else though, as a soldier would shove him forward if he looked around too much. Keith lead the group to two men, who were waiting for him. They both stood at attention as Keith approached them.

"Justicar!" They both shouted. Both of the men were very old, younger than Farber but visibly older than Chrom, Gaius, or even Cervantes. Despite that, they were both large and muscular, and neither of them wore much clothing. One of the two stepped forward towards Keith. He had stark white hair, with a hairline that had receded to the point where it was only on the back of his head. Though fit, the man's posture was horrible, the man bending his head forward and hunching his back. He had a purple line running horizontally across his face. The man dressed like a brigand, except that he had massive red draconic skull of some kind with purple spikes coming out of it on his shoulder. "Justicar? You're not wearing your mask?"

"Silence, Algol!" Keith roared. He took several short and rapid breaths. "Mustafa! Take these five to the prison cells! Algol! Secure the seedlings from the convoy and place them in the nursery."

"Aww! Why can't I escort the prisoners?" Algol said with a devious grin.

"I don't trust you with prisoners. Not after last time."

"That was an accident! The prisoners tripped, and their necks fell on my blade."

"And they were accidentally reanimated into Risen?"

"Now you're getting it."

"Just go!" Keith intercepted a soldier that walked by, grabbing her arm and yelling at her. "And you! Get me one of my spare masks! I need a face!" The soldier nodded and Keith followed her out.

"Algol! Mustafa?!" Chrom exclaimed. "You've got to be jesting!"

Algol gave Chrom a grin that gave him unpleasant flashbacks to when they had fought thirty years ago. "So, you remember me do you?"

Chrom took a few steps back, and Gaius groaned. "Two more Plegians? Someone find Henry and Validar and we can get a cultural festival going."

"How are you still alive?!" Chrom barked. Algol laughed.

"Oh, poor prince. You thought you could just kill those who got in your way, but now you have most of our officer corps against you! Ha! Who is outmatched now!"

Gaius shook his head. "Hold on. You weren't just with Plegia. You were with the Grimleal! The Arch Surg is fighting the Grimleal."

Algol's menacing glee was replaced with actual sadness. "Yes. You see, when Grima was resurrected, it sacrificed the surviving members of the old Grimleal to regain its strength. Because you defeated me however, I wasn't there. I couldn't give my life for the Fell Dragon." Algol seemed pained, as if he was actually sorrowful that he hadn't been there. "When this new Grimleal took over the world for the Fell Dragon, they were suspicious of the old members. They're afraid of us. They only care about power. They distrust those who actually worshipped the Fell Dragon. They wouldn't let me back in!"

"Aww. How tragic." Gaius said dryly.

"They're nothing but petty despots! They lack the intellect and the purity to comprehend the glory of gods! I long to serve my master once more, but for now the Arch Surg appreciate my talents."

The other man scowled, clearly angered by what Algol was saying. This man had darker, tanned skin and a thick white beard. He was completely bald on the top of his head, and he had a scar going down his left eye. He was even more muscular than Algol and wore little clothing. "Algol! Why don't you follow the Justicar's orders! Secure the seedlings."

"Whatever, you overgrown bicep." Algol reluctantly walked away, and the man approached Chrom and Gaius.

"Well, well. So we meet again after all these years, Prince Chrom."

Chrom couldn't help but be unnerved, and Gaius slowly stepped behind him and gave Mustafa a sheepish smile. "Eh. No hard feelings? Right?"

Mustafa gave a sinister laugh. "Ah. Though I hate to say it, Algol was right. The power dynamic has changed. Now I have power over you. It feels… good."

The group became tense, and though they hadn't been addressed, the girls were nervous. Soleil hid behind Caeldori. "Err, just remember we didn't do anything to you! Spare us!"

Mustafa stepped back. "I assure you that no harm will come to you under my watch. When you bested me, Prince Chrom, I begged you to spare what remained of my men. Though this didn't end up being my last wish, you honored it. I don't believe in hurting unarmed prisoners, and I would never treat a man that has showed me such honor that way. Come with me. I will not hurt you, but I must follow the Justicar's orders."

Chrom stepped forward. "You claim to be a man of honor. How could you be with these people? They're horrible! They're violent!"

"Ha! You criticize others for violence. You were a man of violence, Prince Chrom. You did not defeat Gangrel by negotiating with him. Your life was defined by violence. Death. War. Suffering. How many men and women did you kill? How many families did you ruin? You think they were all mindless villains? You think none of them had parents? Children? Siblings? Spouses?"

"But… that's-"

"You thought you were doing the right thing? So do we. When we fought I had lost faith in Gangrel, and I watched in horror as the Grimleal took over Plegia afterwards. The Grimleal may have founded our great nation, but that doesn't mean our civilization has to be defined by them. Now I fight to liberate my people from the Fell Dragon. I fight for a cause I believe in. We are fighting for the good of humanity, even if our methods aren't always perfect." Mustafa turned. "Now come. I must take you to your cells."

Gaius nervously looked around. "So there really aren't any hard feelings?"

"No." Mustafa turned back and smiled. "In fact, because you showed me honor back then, I want to do something for you. Come. There's someone you'll be interested in meeting."

Mustafa took the group through the fortress. A handful of armed Arch Surg soldiers followed them, but not nearly as many as before. Mustafa didn't seem to take the group deeper into the settlement however. Instead he seemed to walk along the edge until he reached a robed man talking to a few other mages. The man turned and smiled at the group. He wore a long, dark robe. His hair was completely white, and he was middle aged, but he didn't look any older than Chrom or Gaius. He had a soft, friendly face, and he had an inviting smile. In fact the man seemed to be always smiling, like Soleil save that his smile seemed to be completely genuine. "Mustafa!" The man said in a cheery tone. "Bring me any more peaches?"

Mustafa laughed. "No, Henry. Not today. Only prisoners."

"Nya ha ha! Just in time! The other ones were getting too dead for me to continue my experiments. I have so many curses I want to try out!"

"Ah, Henry. When I'm around you it's as if my son never left me. No, these prisoners aren't to be experimented on."

"Oh, really? I was looking forward to it." The man had no menace in his voice. He spoke in a completely casual tone. "I'll never forget what happened to that one guy's eyeballs. Now he knows what the inside of his skull looks like. Nya ha ha! I was hoping I could try it again."

Mustafa stepped aside to reveal a stunned Chrom and Gaius. "Henry?!" Chrom cried out.

"Junior!" Gaius blurted.

Henry looked at the two. "Err, have we been acquainted?"

"You don't… remember me?" Chrom asked.

"Should I?"

Gaius was about to step forward, but Chrom held him back. Instead he just pulled back his sleeve on his work shirt to reveal his Mark of Naga. Henry looked at it and froze, his cheery expression replaced with a look of shock. "You. You… you live."

"Yes." Chrom was suddenly gripped with a wave of guilt as powerful as what he felt when he first saw Cordelia and Gaius again. He fell to his knees and stuttered. "Oh, Henry. I am so sorry. I… gods." Chrom fought back tears. "Please believe me. I am so sorry!"

"For what?" Henry said blankly. Gaius looked straight at him.

"For what?! For killing everyone! You gotta be kidding me! You don't remember?"

"Killing everyone?"

"When he killed your wife! When he killed your son!"

"Oh!" To the continued shock of both Chrom and Gaius, Henry's cheery expression returned. "Oh yeah! I remember. You got all mad and started chopping us up. Yeah I remember that now. Good to see you again! How's it been?"

Chrom was at a loss for words, and Gaius couldn't believe what he was hearing. "HOW'S IT BEEN?! That's all you have to say? Junior, he killed your wife and son!"

"Yeah that… that does bother me. I miss them sometimes… a lot of the time… most of the time actually." Henry perked up. "But it was so cool how you killed everyone."

"COOL?!" Gaius and Chrom both exclaimed.

"Yeah. Do you remember the looks on their faces as a man they loved and trusted so much hacked them into little bitty bits! Ha! T-the look on Sumia's face when you cut off Cynthia's arm, and then kicked it into her! I wish I could look at that forever! I tried to curse you but you dodged, and it hit Ricken. His eyes start to pop out of his head! Ha! I never laughed so hard in my life! HA! BWAHAHAHAHA!" Chrom and Gaius gave each other horrified expressions as Henry calmed down. "Anyways that's when you ran up to me and slashed me across the chest, or arms, or legs. I don't actually remember it that well."

"I didn't kill you?" Chrom asked.

"No. I thought I was hurt pretty bad, and I passed out. When I woke up I got up, stretched, walked around. Then I realized I wasn't actually that hurt."

"So now you're here?"

"Yep! The Arch Surg give me food, and a place to stay. They let me experiment on prisoners, and I get to blast people with curses. Pchew pchew! Nya ha ha! I also get to see Mustafa and Vasto again, although Vasto has gotten annoying in his old age. 'Henry you have to evacuate villages before attacking them! Henry stop cursing my wyvern! Henry stop making me hallucinate my dead mother!' He's no fun."

Chrom rose to his feet and stared into space. "I can't… I can't believe any of this."

"Yeesh, Junior. You were entertained by what happened to us?!"

"Why do you call him Junior?" Mustafa snapped. Gaius shrugged.

"It's my nickname for him."

"You will treat him with respect!"

"Okay then, Mr. Junior."

Henry turned to Mustafa. "It's okay. It doesn't bother me." He turned back to Chrom and Gaius and looked at them innocently. "Are you two still bothered by what happened?"

"YES!" Gaius roared. Chrom shook his head.

"I have thought about it every day for the past thirty years. I will never forget it."

"HA! HA HA!" Henry pointed at the two. "Your faces right now! Hilarious!"

Gaius became agitated. "Yeah well, well we have news that will get to you!"

"I doubt it. I'm not easily upset."

"Oh yeah? You don't think we can get to you?"

"Nothing bothers me."

"Oh yeah? Ophelia! Step forward!"

Everyone turned to Ophelia. "Wha-what? Why?"

Chrom gave her a strange look, but he calmed down and smiled at her. "Just do it. Please." Ophelia stepped towards Henry, who looked her up and down.

"Are you a mage too? Ooh, are you a dark mage?! We can trade experiments!"

"Ophelia. Show him your mark." Chrom said in a reassuring tone. Ophelia relented, and she pulled up her sleeve until her own Mark of Naga was visible. Henry was stunned, and his voice was flat.

"Where… where did you get that?"

"She's my grandniece, Henry."

"Your… grandniece?"

"Yes. This is Owain's daughter. This is Lissa's granddaughter. Henry… this is your granddaughter."

Ophelia turned back. "WHAT?!"

Henry fell silent, and Mustafa rushed in front of the group and began to push them away. "Well I should be getting them to their cells. We can talk to them more later."

Henry stared at them blankly as they left. "I still have… family?"