Manbun was the last person in the room, his eyes focused on a specific chair. He slowly walks over to the chair and stares at it with a strong sense of guilt and remorse. His hand hover over the chair, not daring to touch its fragile frame in fear of hurting it.
In that eerie silence, a voice resounds," *******, killed April 23, 8457...protecting me."
The sudden sound spooked me into silence and all I can do is continue to listen.
"...Bled to death on the battlefield," Manbun showed a self-deprecating smile,"he was never a fighter..."
Manbun's eyes lingers on the chair before turning around to look straight at me,"I won't allow history to repeat itself."
Is he kicking me out?! I hurriedly say,"I'm not useless."
Manbun frowns at those words. Ah, wait does he think I was talking about the chair guy? ...I guess it seems that way. I try to fix my statement,"I want to be useful to the group. I want to be a part of the group." We're my words conveyed properly?
"You don't understand the consequences to being part of the group. It bloodies your hands, your soul, I don't want you..." Manbun pauses before starting anew,"This isn't up for discussion, I won't allow you to participate." He then walks out of the room in silence.
I quickly follow him knowing I'll get lost if I have to return by myself. Manbun seems to know this place well, only going though a couple doors before exiting the labyrinth, and not giving me enough time to argue. He swiftly walks back to his residence. I start to follow before pausing, unable to think of anything I can use to refute his statement. He's the boss, he makes the rules, if he says I can't go, then I can't go...not openly at least.
I head back to the forest in indignation, to gather supplies and prepare a plan.