"Samantha! It's me Layd, Trekaeps's friend!"
Samantha's head was a disaster of gigantic proportions. Melody was not there, Padd was not in a good mood, the boy she lik/ Layd was there too, and to top it off locked behind bars!
"You do not remember me…?" Layd stepped forward as far as he could and showed a hopeless, sad doggy face. "Please remember, I don't want to spend a month locked up" It was the real reason for his helplessness.
"I-I…" Samantha hesitated.
To Samantha, that beautiful tiny reflection of light in Layd's dark and sad eyes, caused a knot in her chest, it was not possible that he was a bad boy, nor that she forgot, not since...
"Do you know this boy, Samantha?" Padd's usual polite demeanor faded, leaving a stern tone of judge and enforcer.
"Y-yeah…" Samantha muttered under her breath. "H-he's a friend, Uncle Greg knows him, I think." She hated sounding so sharp and childish.
"Greg…? Ah! Mr. Gregory! Can you call him?!"
"Come with me Samantha." Padd took the girl by the shoulder, serious and disregarding Layd's comments.
"Hello? Are you going to leave me here alone? Samantha…! Tell Greg I came to see Trekaeps…!" Layd's requests fell on deaf ears, the last thing he saw was Samantha eyeing him with a certain "energy" indecipherable to him.
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"You were right." Keith wiped the blood off the blade with a rag. "I don't know who or what his allies planned."
"What are you implying?" Naoru threw himself on the dusty wooden stool.
"I'm not implying; a challenge is coming."
Keith sheathed his sword. Although he carried a helmet on him, it was easy to denote doubt in his posture, under other circumstances, he would trust his skill with the sword to solve —annihilate —the problems —threats —that haunt the city that he loves so much, but... that boy —Hax —not only did endure a long and tedious torture session, he did so without uttering the slightest noise or groan of pain. If there is a danger sign, well, he verified it firsthand.
"I'll ask for a meeting tonight," Keith advised "I'll see you there." With fury and determination visible in his posture, he briskly walked out of that section of the dungeon, plunging into the darkness of the corridors and leaving Naoru behind.
"This is going from bad to worse…" Naoru muttered angrily.
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"Excuse me… once again, I got distracted."
Padd massaged his forehead, in front of him a recruit was holding a few yellowed and old papers, was shaking from some kind of resonance disease with his legs —also known as Asthar —and was wearing clothing quite differentiated by consisting of fabric and leather instead of the common iron armor.
"Uh... yeah right..." he said and rearranged the papers on his hands to repeat the entire tongue twister. "As you requested, we checked the records for information on Natsume, Seng, and Layd and found nothing at all with those names." he turned the papers over to keep an eye on them.
Before Padd could ask "What is that pile of papers for?" the recruit produced a medium sheet and handed it to him.
"That's the record of a criminal from eight years ago, his name was Zenm."
The recruit saw in Padd's gaze that classic assurance of having fully understood the implications of the case. It was not difficult, the sheet in his hands had a drawing of Seng at ten years old, with equally disastrous hair, no apparent blue streaks and a ridiculous expression of seriousness that to this day he has by default.
"The other papers are to confirm if we have a similar case, but I think he is the only one who made up a terrible name."
"Thank you Eden, please call me if you find anything else.
They said goodbye with a handshake and Padd took that Zenm's papers.
That Padd was quite far from the wall where Samantha and the others were —to be more specific it was two walls to the east —however, he did not set his course for that wall, but went to a room that was nearby and took a key from his pocket and opened it hastily. It was an office of two meters by two meters, he did not need anything else, he went and sat on the wooden desk and placed the papers gently on the table.
He leaned back and took a jar of golden sand out of the drawer, uncapped it, and puffed out a mouthful of the sand. His face wrinkled a little and it took him a full minute to finish swallowing it.
"Let's see, I have to ask Drianny to do the drawing…" he closed his eyes and again massaged the hundred as he lightly touched. "Hm, is what Layd said true?" he whispered into the air.
"W-well, yeah, he's a friend of Trekaeps an-and mine..." he heard Samantha's voice in his mind.
"Are you sure he's not some kind of criminal?" he murmured, still alone in the office.
"O-of course he's not! Why is he locked up down there?" exclaimed Samantha's voice and the office Padd winced.
"Padd!" Gregory's voice echoed in his mind. "We have to talk about the girl and the suspects."
"Did you find out something?" Padd muttered.
"I found you, Padd!" Melody's adorable little voice also resonated strongly in his mind.
"Sir, a couple of thieves were found in the commercial sector"
"The new recruits are not up to par Padd..."
"Mr. Padd! The mayor requires his presence! "
Padd sighed, his face broke out in cold sweat and he needed to eat more sand from the jar.
It was the price of his resonance. The incredible ability to create copies of himself with life-size stone and wood figures was not entirely pleasant. Aside from the material he needs for each clone, he spends about twice or more his soul energy to do anything with one of those clones depending on the distance, making him susceptible to going blank at an alarming rate.
And it does not end there, the clones are totally linked to his consciousness, that is, everything he hears, sees or perceives as well. It's a real luck that he doesn't feel the pain and that he has managed to perfect the use of his resonance so that the clones can interact with others naturally most of the time.
"How overwhelming…"
Its main body ends up oversaturated. Migraine, dizziness, cold sweat, nausea; Name it and it will surely be suffering once it passes the four clones. He currently has nine active clones.
If not for the golden sand he consumes, he would go blank in a matter of hours just for moving and talking with his clones.
Which causes other problems for your original body, such as diarrhea or constipation.
"I have… I have to… end these matters at once…"