Mostima stood right outside of her delivery caravan, leaning against the side of it as she held a small book in her hands. It was a minimap with directions, as well as some notable facts about the nameless desert she parked herself at. Taking an index finger to her sapphire tongue, she turned to the next page.

Written in vivid detail were landmarks near the desert, as well as occurrences that may happen. She thumbed through them quickly, skimming without missing a single word and digesting every bit of information.

"Hmm... about twenty, maybe twenty-five kilometers out. Short drive," she smiled, stowing the book away in one of many of her jacket pockets. She folded her arms and lifted her head up, looking at the clouds summoning themselves in the sky. They grew darker with each minute that passed, yet it didn't worry her in the slightest. Counting the seconds in a sing-song tone, she unfolded her arms and returned to the driver's side of the caravan, pulling the door open and climing aboard. Shutting the door, she gripped her hands on the steering wheel, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips as she looked to the passenger's seat.

Right beside her, Texas was asleep in her chair, her hands tied behind her and tape covering her mouth. Despite the hours that passed, she was still unconscious from Mostima's incapacitating blow. Mostima pouted, believing to herself that she didn't strike her that hard; as long as she was alive, she can sleep as long as she wants.

With the key in the ignition and the engine started, the caravan hummed peacefully until Mostima shifted gears to drive off. Kicking up dust as the vehicle accelerated, she would ride into the storm with music playing softly from the radio. Looking in the rear view of the caravan, just before the cargo door, stood her two powerful staves.

"The only way I can seek forgiveness now is through redemption."

Six months ago...

"Mostima..."

Exusiai looked at Mostima with wide, tear-filled eyes. She looked at the blood smeared on her face. Some of it was on her clothes. She looked down at her hands, noticeably sodden with blood. She carried home her sins without even considering cleansing herself.

"Exusiai... I..." Mostima spoke through a shaky breath, and yet her smile wouldn't fade. She took a step towards her, and Exusiai took a step back, clenching her teeth. Her panting hastened. For the first time, fear had crept up on her. "No, Exu-"

"Mostima, stay away...!" She gasped and choked up a bit, clearing her throat after she swallowed. "It... it doesn't matter which Sankta you killed, I just want to know... why?" She inhaled as she stepped forward. "Why become a fallen!?" Mostima looked down to the floor as she asked. She held her hand to her head, covering her right eye.

"...One egregious act deserves another," Mostima replied, her expression unchanging. "But I know, even in the most saintly of people... wickedness exists. But not you, Exusiai... and I would rather see my wings cut than see you hurt. Because I…

"I love you. That's what I wanted to say… but I couldn't."

"Yo! Momo, what's goin' on, honey?"

Mere moments after, Mostima found herself in the office of penguin Emperor—the founder of Penguin Logistics, and one of the few animalistic Liberi. She stood in front of his desk, not bothering with the two chairs sitting idly as he leapt up to his desk.

"Emperor, sir." Mostima stood at attention, her smile attached to her. "I, uhm..." Her eyes trailed off but for only a moment, before affixing themselves back on the penguin. "I'm here to retrieve those papers I asked about. I wanna go through with the process."

"Ah, and here I was, hopin' to turn ya around," he responded with his drawl. Shaking his head and looking down, he hoped off of his desk, down where his cabinets were. He reached a wing to a lonely sheet of paper above a full, neatly organized stack. Throwing the paper up so that it cleanly slid onto the desk, he jumped right back atop, seemingly winded. "I'm gettin' old," he muttered. "Now, before I finalize this—"

"Murder," Mostima replied. "The reasoning behind it is murder. I can't have Penguin Logistics and Rhodes Island caught up in my mess." His wing went for his pen, very hesitant. "I'm sorry, sir. I broke the Law of Laterano. Least I can do is keep you and your business out of trouble."

Emperor went silent for just a moment, fixing his shades.

"...Got a question for ya, Momo." He carefully wrote with his wings, a feat still somehow strange considering his handwriting was so neat. "Well, two, if any. First off, are you a'ight with bein' signed as an independent contractor?" Mostima lifted her head up, an eyebrow raised. "You can come n' go as you please, but you'll still find work 'tween us n' the good ol' R-of-I if you ask nicely." With that explanation, she nodded, a hand on her hip. "Cool." He scribbled in silence, with Mostima raising an eyebrow. The seconds felt like minutes.

"...Sir?" She piped up. He continued writing, but she could tell that he was listening. "Your second question?" Not an extra moment went by after she asked that question that he laid the pen down in front of her, flipping the paper around with his feet.

"Sign here." As he said that, he dropped off his desk again, reaching back into the same cabinet. Mostima stepped forward, taking the pen betwixt her fingers and signing at the designated "X" mark. Once that was done, she set the pen gently down on the paper, only to find Emperor coming from behind his desk with his trademark pistol in his hand.

"Sir...?" She breathed.

"Second off," he interrupted, cleaning the slide with his wing, "see this biscuit right here?" He spoke of the firearm, admiring its sheen. "This shit is responsible for many a death." A noticeable smirk was on his beak. "Some in self-defense..." The smirk faded almost instantly as he lowered the weapon. "And some otherwise." He looked at Mostima, who looked back at him. Her constant smile was gone in that moment. "Sometimes I let that shit get to me. But then I asked myself somethin'; is it a crime to fight for what's mine? And now, I'm asking you."

"I..."

"Who knows what would have happened if I didn't do what I did...? Was I fighting for what's mine? Or did I just think of Exu and get scared...?"

"I think I understand, sir." That was her only reply, and Emperor scoffed. It was a "yes" or "no" question, after all.

"Nah, honey. I don't think you do just yet, but take it from me. For every dark night, there's a brighter day." He moved back to his desk, presumably to stow his pistol away once more. "If you really wanna redeem yourself that badly, then you do whatchu gotta do." Jumping up atop his desk, he took the paper with a single wing, using the other to return the pen beside his other three pens. "Alright, consider it finalized. You and your caravan are now owned and operated under you. Just be sure to stop by every now and again, a'ight?"

Mostima stopped the caravan, turning the keys to shut it down. With a sigh, she left the keys in the caravan. She wouldn't be returning to it. Looking over to Texas, she seemed to be slowly coming to. She reached behind her to retrieve her two staves and pulled the door open, exiting the vehicle. She looked forward, examining her surroundings clearly.

"Ah... almost there." She stabbed her two staves into the ground, then rested one leg atop a medium-sized rock.

In the distance, a storm was gathering.