As he entered the building, Aectaeon lowered his cap so his eyes would be covered.
It was unfortunate that the soldier's uniform didn't fit his build. For sure, someone would call him out if there's anything wrong with his uniform. And that was a conversation that Aectaeon didn't want to partake in.
That being the case, it took him quite some time to make some adjustments -- mainly by concealing his exposed skin under his boots and a pair of makeshift gloves.
'Good, good, just ignore me and go on your way. I'm a private, see.'
Aectaeon didn't stop from talking in his head, nearly sounding as if he was hypnotizing himself. Every soldier that passed him by, he couldn't help but bring his guard up.
'This is more nerve-wracking than facing those tanks. Should I just go and jump on tanks again?'
He then glanced at both ends of the corridor, making sure that he hadn't gathered any sort of traction. Once he had verified that no one cared about him, Aectaeon hurriedly moved up the stairs.
Although he wanted to run as fast as he could, there was a chance that he could bump into someone, forcing his cover to be blown. Aectaeon didn't want to burden himself with another risky venture.
Traversing through several flights of stairs, Aectaeon was now beginning to sense the burn on his legs. The blood -- seeping through the bandages -- felt cold on his skin. He stopped for a second and saw that a few blood spots had appeared on his trousers.
Aectaeon couldn't be bothered to hide the stains that were slowly growing. If he wasted more time in caring about his clothes, he would definitely be traumatized from mere pieces of apparel.
Raising his head, he immediately noticed the soldier standing on top of the staircase. Aectaeon quickly lowered his head and gripped the metal railing tightly. He was preparing to dash towards his objective even if he was discovered.
'I can just jump down the window which is better than facing tanks. Okay, let's do--'
"Orcas? What are you doing here?" The soldier abruptly asked,
Aectaeon didn't answer. Instead, he gave a brief glance at the name tag stitched on the uniform he was wearing.
"M. N. Orcas…?"
"Yes, Orcas. That's your name. Don't tell me you've also forgotten the name of your friend? Just to remind you, I'm Solon Tarick." The soldier said as he took one step down, "And what's wrong with you? Why do you sound like you're constipated? That's not good. We have formation later."
The man was irked by how talkative the soldier was. Withal, he wanted to be grateful that the soldier wasn't as insightful as he had thought. Aectaeon cleared his throat as he tried to remember the voice of the soldier from who he had stolen the uniform.
"Uh-- uhm, yeah, yeah, I'm constipated."
No matter how hard he tried to produce a voice -- at least four octaves higher than his normal -- Aectaeon didn't do a good job at it.
Then again, it was already a fool he was fooling.
"Why are you standing around like that? Just go to the toilet."
"But where?"
"What do you mean where? Your room, of course! Room 907!"
"Oh, right, sure. I'll go."
The soldier soon passed him by, giving him a light tap on the shoulder. Once the soldier was out of his sight, Aectaeon bolted for the eleventh floor right away. He now had an excuse, albeit one that he was reluctant to use.
A lot of soldiers turned their heads when they saw him, yet no one concerned themselves with his behaviour.
'Alright, one more floor to go. It's the room at the very end of the right corridor. What do I do if the door is locked though?'
After a few more seconds of running up the stairs, Aectaeon finally reached the eleventh floor. He didn't stop, even for a brief moment, to catch his breath. The only thing he wanted to do was to enter the room in question.
While he was moving forward, Aectaeon glanced at the corridor behind him. To his mirth, not a single soul was roaming about.
'Yes! I can just pick the doorknob if it's locked. I'm pretty much an expert at that.'
The instant that he was in front of Room 1120, he grabbed the knob and turned it. When he heard a click, he forthwith pushed the door open. Once he closed the door, relief washed over him as he leaned back on the wall.
He then surveyed the interior, a tad bewildered that it was empty aside from a small item in the middle of the floor. Aectaeon foremost approached the window and verified that the arrow was pointed towards where he was. Thereafter, he went back to the middle and picked the item up.
"A card? Isn't this a tarot card? Why is a tarot card even relevant to a game with war as a theme? This is all over the place, huh."
As Aectaeon said, it was a card that was slightly longer than his hand. Drawn on the card was a man who was standing at the edge of a cliff surrounded by ocean waves. He was holding a long wooden stick, its length supported by his right shoulder. On the other end of the stick, a cloth bag was tied.
On the other end of the stick, a
{{ Obtained Clue Number 1 }}
{{ Next Clue: "Leap of Faith" }}
"Leap.. of faith? Wait--"
Aectaeon gazed at the card he was holding. He then slowly placed it back on the floor in the same position he first saw it. From that instant, he looked in the direction where the head of the man was pointing at.
"The window?" He said as he made his way to the window.
He proceeded to unfasten the window, opening it narrowly. But before he could do so, he noticed through the glass that the window of the room -- situated on the other building afore his eyes -- was wide open.
"It wasn't open earli--"
At that point, he caught sight of one of the arrows he was searching for.
"Ha!" Aectaeon exclaimed, "So it was both the figurative and literal meaning of leap of faith!"