After witnessing Ogron's brutal punishment of Gantlos, Anagan stumbled away, his stomach churning with a nauseous dread. The sickening sound of each blow echoed in his ears, and the sight of Gantlos, a strong and stoic figure, reduced to a wounded, writhing mess made his blood run cold. He leaned against the wall, the bile rising in his throat as his mind replayed the scene over and over. The raw cruelty in Ogron's eyes, a stark contrast to his usual calculated harshness, made Anagan's skin crawl. He felt an overwhelming sense of fear and uncertainty, his body trembling as the realization dawned on him that something was profoundly wrong with their leader.

Anagan waited. He waited until Ogron was definitely asleep. He waited until it was safe, until he was safe to go. Sneaking out the back door he looked down at the crumpled man. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the fear that gripped him. Gantlos, always the stoic one, looked more defeated than ever. His usually towering presence was replaced with that of a kicked dog. He knelt down and untied the rope, taking the first aid kit, he began cleaning his wounds. His brown eyes were wide and haunted by what Ogron had done to Gantlos- yes, he messed up, but after all he's done for them? Certainly he deserved mercy. Gantlos groaned at the stinging that was now on his face, his eyes opening.

"Mmm….Anagan? What time is it?" The blondes voice was raw, and strained.

"Shhh- he might hear you…" Anagan whispered as his eyes anxiously shot to the door. They took a moment to wait before Anagan whispered once more, his voice trembling,

"I… I had to come. You can't stay like this."

Gantlos grunted, a sound that was part acknowledgment and part frustration. "Shouldn't have come, Anagan. If Ogron finds out…"

"Hush-" Anagan was jumping at every rustle of leaves, every noise of the woods sent him into high alert. His hands tremored as he cleaned the wounds on Gantlos.

"He would have at least healed him after," even his thoughts were afraid.

"I need to take these off of you…" Gantlos retracted his hands, Ogron would have taken them off had he wanted to, they were left on for a purpose — as a warning.

"Gantlos…"

"What happens if he notices they're gone? If he wants them off, he'll take them off. Leave them on…"

"But it has to be painful!" Anagan clamped his hand over his mouth, they both stiffs for a solid ten minutes.

"Something's not right, Gantlos. This… this isn't like him. He's always been strict, uptight, rigid even, but this… this is different."

Gantlos held an ice pack to his face while Anagan unfastened his shirt. He winced at the bruises and scrapes. He rubbed salve on a particularly bad gash, Gantlos's face winced internally.

"He was angry, I-" Gantlos hitched as Anagan began feeling for broken ribs. "I can take it-"

"Oh shut up with that brooding, emotional constipation- Do not defend this. You sound like a battered househusband." Anagan checked his surroundings. "Ogron— the Ogron I know? He'd punish us, sure, but this… he looked like he enjoyed it, he was excited to hurt you. He loved it. He loved hurting you."

"That's not-"

" And let's say this was a normal punishment. Think of the things he said to you, the things he did to you outside of the violence….our Ogron… he wouldn't do that, not to us, not to you. The way he pet you—said he loved you? The kissing, or whatever that was?" He referred to Ogron's licking of the blood from Gantlos's lips. Gantlos let his fingers trace his, cracked lips. Though not a kiss, Anagan had a point.

"Anagan, I don't want to hear this—" Gantlos shuddered "I don't need a recap of my own humiliation m, please just tell me what you're implying," Gantlos was impatient.

"What if… what if that's not Ogron? What if something's happened to him? I mean, look at what he's done to you. This isn't just a punishment. It's… it's sadistic. And he loved it."

Gantlos looked at Anagan, his eyes narrowed as a flash of danger brightened his dull eyes. He recoiled at the remembrance of how Ogron looked at him, he thought there was something in those eyes, a hunger he couldn't pin point. A yearning he couldn't place. Like Ogron was getting off to breaking him. He shivered.

"What are you implying? That something replaced him?" Gantlos felt idiotic for the question, "that's the dumbest thing I've ever said, and I barked tonight,—like a dog."

"Either something replaced him — Or he's lost it. We can normally hold our own, G, but this? I don't think we're safe. Not with him, not with whatever that is,"

Gantlos shot a worried look, "we gotta tell Duman,"

"Is it even safe to do that? To have Duman potentially ruin whatever that guy's plan is? We don't even half know what the hell is going on," Anagan guiltily looked to Gantlos for guidance. Gantlos just nodded.

"If something is wrong with Ogron, the plan is already doomed,"

Anagan looked worried at his battered friend. He nodded.

Gantlos spoke once more at the flick of a light in Ogron's room.

"Look- we can…We'll figure this out. But for now, you need to get out of here before he notices you're gone. And don't worry about me. I'll manage."

Anagan begrudgingly went inside, faking a mess in the kitchen to make it look like he'd been eating. Duman had to know.