"Stop, Thief!"

"Scoundrel!"

"Oh come on! Is it really worth getting all worked up for some clothes!?" Robin exclaimed, gripping tightly onto the aforementioned set of clothes on one hand. A small group of villagers had been chasing him around the village, their stamina seemingly unending.

"You streaking bastard!" One of the villagers cursed, "you stole a leather sling bag from my shop!"

"Oh..." Robin realized, remembering that he needed something to hold the emergency box. "Well, I'll just pay you back when I get the chance. Until then, ciao!"

He dove straight into the marketplace, hoping to lose them in the sea of people. He then headed into a narrow alleyway, before finally putting on the clothes he stole.

Beige tunic? Check.

Pants? Check.

Boots? Check.

Green cloak? Technically, it was unnecessary but he felt like the cloak was calling to him so... check.

Robin felt a sense of relief as he put the hood of the cloak over his head. Compared to a few days ago when was stark-naked, this was definitely an improvement.

He opened the sling bag to see the emergency box, before wondering what it would look like if it was also filled with gold...

...

Guess gold is the next item on the list. But the question is, how will he get them? He wasn't planning on stealing again, last thing the tactician needed is to make an infamous name for himself. And if he were to encounter Chrom as some wanted desperado, he'd most likely get cut down. Mainly by Frederick, but still.

Then again, they allowed a thief like Gaius into the Shepherds, but that was also mostly because Frederick was out of earshot when Chrom recruited him.

He sighed, perhaps he can go get a small job somehwere for the time being. After all, the marketplace held a world of possibilities for aspiring young individuals like himself. But at the same time, what the hell is he going to sell?

Eh, he can probably come up with something along the way. After all, a tactician should be prepared for anything and everything, even if it meant getting down on his knees and-

He was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the sounds of screaming, looking back at the alleyway's opening to see the marketplace had gone up in flames. As he ran out of the alleyway, he was met with the frenzied panic of the villagers, who were scrambling to get out of this burning village.

"Oh gods..." Robin realized, his mouth agape. "This is the village..."

"C'mere boys! Front and center!" Garrick hollered, watching as his brigand-dressed men stood before him. "Remember the plan! Once we entered the village, we go for the males first!"

"AWUGH!" His men cried out

"The children, we can sell!"

"AWUGH!"

"And the women!" Garrick rubbed his hands together, a malicious grin forming on his face. "Oh ho ho ho! Oh, the women..."

His men then mimicked his actions, eager to hear the best part as Garrick suddenly went into a dignified stance.

"We will always treat with respect!"

Just as they were about to cheer, Garrick's men paused midway, before looking at one another in confusion to see if any of them heard what their leader said clearly. The group went deathly silent for a while, until one of Garrick's men shouted "cuck!" which was then followed by the boisterous laughter of the rest.

"Damnit all, fine!" Garrick scowled, "we'll just do the classic pillaging if you mongrels can't handle anything new! Grab anything shiny and put the rest to the torch!"

"AWUGH!" They cheered once more, before scattering off to do god knows what. Garrick wandered his gaze throughout the destruction around him, a sneer forming on his face.

"I bet them Ylissean bluebloods are rolling in their beds when they hear this..."

Robin ran around the burning village, calling onto the villagers hoping they'd calm down and listen. His plan was to safely escort them out the place and then take out whatever brigand was still in there, but the plan itself was easier said than done.

Perhaps if he had someone like Chrom with him, maybe it would've made things easier.

"Hraagh!" The former tacitician quickly got out of the way of an incoming axe. A lone brigand brandished his steel weapon at him. Which in turn, caused Robin to raised his fists awkwardly. "You think those baby hands will save you, pal?"

"Honestly? Not really" Robin replied, "maybe if you give me a weapon, then I can- whoops!"

He narrowly dodged an overhead swing from the brigand, before slamming his fist across the man's face. He gave him no time to recover as he brought another fist onto his lower jaw, causing a small gush of blood to sputter out of it.

"Agh! Mhay Phongueg!" The brigand mumbled as he stared daggers at Robin, "byist stpyand shtil ahnd DHIE!"

The brigand swung with reckless abandon, but Robin seemed to be preoccupied with the thoughts in his head. He wasn't sure why, but fighting this brigand was strange: every swing he performed rivaled the speed of molasses, causing every duck, sidestep, and swerve to feel so... empty...

Perhaps fighting Walhart's army improved his senses...

As the brigand's axe crashed downwards onto the stone path, Robin immediately utilized the advantage: an arm quickly went under then over the brigand's axe-wielding arm, forcefully straightening it as it got caught over his hand and under his armpit.

And, with a sharp flick of his arm... you know the rest...

The brigand wasn't even allowed time to scream as Robin slammed the bridge of his nose with his forehead, before following it up with another fist to the face. As the brigand fell with a thud! Robin quickly grabbed the dropped axe.

He wasn't planning on keeping any problems around...

Dropping the bloody weapon, the tactician then proceeded to loot the body. He's always had this weird luck of obtaining gold from the bodies of the risens he's killed. And from what he could recall correctly, this "brigand" is a plegian soldier in disguise. So there should be a lot right?

Yeah... if he could describe the amount he got, he'd say it's worse than an artist's salary. What the hell can he buy with the equivalent of "free exposure?"

He looked over to the brigand's fur cape, before an idea suddenly came to mind. Pulling it off the the carcass, Robin inspected the piece of clothing: there were some scorch marks here and there, presumably left by the fires around them. Other than the brigand's blood staining the top part, it also had the foul scent of moldy onions.

He'll need to clean this later...

"Ho there!" A feminine voice from behind snapped him out of his thoughts, "you don't seem like those bandits, so just what are you doing?"

The time-displaced tactician carefully turned around to see who he was dealing with, and froze as she went into view: her hair held the same color as his own, only that it was tied into two pigtails that cascaded to her shoulders. She wore a black coat with gold embellishments, with violet patterns Robin knew all too well...

She donned the coat of the grimleal. Or to be more precise, his coat.

By gods, was she him, and him her? Or was her him, and him she? Robin clasped his head as he screamed internally. He knew at some point he'll come across a version of himself in this world, but it wasn't supposed to be this much of a clusterfuck to handle!

"Are... you okay?" The other version of himself asked hesitantly, taking a step forward. It was a good thing his head was covered by a green hood, because the frenzied panic look he made would've gotten him shot down.

So, in order to not mess with the future all too much, he decided to take the best course of action:

He ran

He ran as far as his legs could carry him, until he could vague hear her calling for him to slow down. He looked back to see if she was still on his trail, and sure enough, he lost her.

Though he should've paid attention at what's in front of him, because...

"Here sheepy sheepy sheepy..." Garrick brandished his hand axe towards the blue-haired prince, before suddenly making a mad dash towards him. "Waltz right into the slaughter!"

Chrom deflected the strike that was meant for his shoulder, but the impact caused him to skid back a bit. Frederick was too busy keeping Lissa safe from harm, whereas Robin went to find any survivors and escort them to safety, which meant that he alone was left to deal with this brute.

He readied into a stance as he stared the brigand leader down, his destruction ends today. Chrom makes a deadly overhead swing-

A hooded man suddenly crashed into Garrick, causing Chrom to miss and hit nothing but the ground they're on.

"Oh, wicket..." Robin mumbled, rubbing the pain on his forehead. He looked up to see what he was dealing with, but froze when he caught sight of a familiar blue hair.

"You alright?" Chrom asked, before lending an outstretched hand. "Give me your hand"

The time-traveling tactician sat there, umoving, causing the blue-haired lord to raise an eyebrow. "Are you really okay?" He asked again, snapping Robin out of his trance.

"Y-yeah..." the former tactician stuttered, gripping tightly onto Chrom's hand as he was pulled up. "T-thank you, Chrom-"

He bit his tongue as soon as that word got, but it was too late.

"Ah, you know who I am?" Chrom chuckled to himself, "Well, I dare hope you don't have amnesia. Tell me, what's your name, friend?"

"My... name?" Robin was damn grateful he still had his hood on despite the impact, otherwise, this past version of his best friend would've seen him sweating like a pig.

"Of course, that is how pleasantries normally-" Chrom was caught off-gaurd as Robin pushed him to the side, then his eyes widened as he saw why: Garrick was preparing to cut him down the middle, and was already halfway there when the hooded man pushed him away.

Time seemed to have slowed as Robin came face-to-face with the axe's sharp edge. He couldn't dodge to save his sorry arse in time. But for some reason, something in the back of his mind told him there's still a way. As he raised his fists in-between his face and the axe, he braced himself hoping that his gut was right.

PAVISE!

A red aura suddenly began enveloping his body, and what should've happened was his hands being lopped off, were instead only nicked by the blade of the axe. Robin quickly swatted away the axe with one hand, while the other found its way onto Garrick's nose.

"That's a technique developed by generals during wartime" Chrom pointed out, "You're a soldier?"

"Ex soldier" Robin corrected, sighing as he shook away the soreness in his hands. "Self-discharged, I failed..."

"I see... well then" Chrom began, returning to the former tactician's side. "How about you make it up by helping me deal with the brigand leader?"

"Got a spare weapon I can use?"

Chrom unclasped the rapier on his belt. "How well do you do with swords?" He asked, before tossing it to Robin's way. The hooded man successfully caught the scabbard, before unsheathing the sword slightly as he inspect its blade.

"As much as I fancy myself a mage"

"DO YOU BASTARDS THINK I'M INSIGNIFICANT!?" Garrick roared, charging at them like a rabid beast. Chrom was the first to meet him head-on, exchanging blow after blow as dragon fang met steel. Chrom's brows furrowed as he and Garrick continued trading strikes. It was strange, he already got Garrick outnumbered two to one but he's still on equal footing.

Actually, he realized: where did that stranger-

His body suddenly froze without warning, and it seem Garrick was also affected by this abnormality.

All will fall to the assassin's blade...

A sudden chill ran up the blunette's spine as he felt a nauseating surge of killing intent. He forcefully turned his head to see what was going on, only to see a shadowy figure charging towards his direction. He then attempted to force his stunned body to move, in order to prepare for the oncoming attack but to no avail.

His life flashed before his eyes as he met the shadow's eerie red gaze. By gods, was this really it? After how much he worked hard for, only to die here?

"Damnit... I'm sorry Lissa... Emm..."

Suddenly, the shadow went passed him. Why? Then it hit him: was the shadow's actual target the brigand leader? He forced his head to turn back to the brigand leader, and sure enough, the shadow suddenly pulled out a blade from its dark hide and-

Went past him... it ran past Garrick as well...

Everything went silent, where the crackling fires could nary utter even a whisper. The shadow suddenly faded as the green-hooded man now stood in its place, holding the unsheathed rapier that the blue-haired lord loaned. Slowly, he returned the rapier back into its sheath, reveling every second of his victory with an unknowingly smug grin.

"Checkmate" he remarked. And with a click! as the sword fully returned to its sheath, Garrick's head suddenly fell off his shoulders. Chrom watched as the body of the brigand leader fell to the ground, the one responsible for directing all of this devastation, now dead.

"Milord!" Chrom was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the slow trotting of a horse. He turned to see the familiar blue armor of Frederick, with his sister, Lissa, and the newcomer, Robin, following close behind. "It is a relief to see you remained unscathed, and to have vanquished the brigand leader himself." Frederick then shifted his gaze onto the green-cloaked man, his brows furrowing. "And what of this man, milord? Is he a brigand as well? Just say the word and I shall dispose of him swiftly"

"Frederick, no!" Chrom panicked slightly, "this man is not a threat, he saved my life during the fight and helped me put the brigand leader to the blade."

"Is that so, milord?"

"Of course" Chrom gave an assuring smile, before turning to the man in question. "Now with notinh else to interrupt us now, I believe it's time we do the introductions properly. My name is Chrom, but you already knew that. And the blonde girl next to the knight is my delicate sister, Lissa"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not delicate!?" The girl in question practically screamed, crossing her arms as she turned away from him.

"The knight here is Frederick" Chrom continued, "and the other girl with the pigtails is Robin. We've only just come across her when we found her lying unconscious on a nearby field. With that out of the way, tell us your name."

"My name..." Robin's brows furrowed as he went deep in thought, which thankfully was concealed by the hood over his head. He needed to come up with something soon, otherwise even the narrator will have difficulty in determining who's who.

He tried to think of a suitable name for himself, but his mind kept coming back to that stupid brand Naga had put on him. Actually, wait: brand... brand... Brandon? No, that name felt stupid. By gods, what kind of name could he get from this stupid mar- that's it!

"You can call me Mark"

AN: honestly, after doing that Mort reference with Garrick, I can now unhear him with Mort's voice. Someone end me please