It was a give and take deal which they have agreed to perform without a solid betrayal between their opposing countries. Toren would sometimes come along with the servants during their laundry chore to listen to the gossip in disguise of looking for inspirations in his paintings.
The women would let him tag along as they freely and frankly converse without worrying about anyone.
Toren had heard from those gossips the updates.
The secret organization that was led by Muren had finally been busted. Their code and usage of the public press were deciphered and broken off with the help of the colonist scholars and counselors. The underground hideout was also discovered and demolished by the soldiers after confiscating the stolen artilleries, drugs, herbs, blueprints, and scheme directives.
All their possessions had been relinquished during the ongoing investigation, thus the activism slowly falling apart.
Some of the discovered members were punished and tortured to sign the oath of loyalty under the condition of surrendering their privacy and full service.
Those who continuously retaliated were either brought beneath the guillotine or stoned to death, while those who signed lived in shame and exhaustion as they were enslaved by the colonists.
The organization leader along with other high official members had not yet been caught and are most likely lying low with the heated investigation.
Toren felt quite torn apart across the days he had been hearing the news that only gets worse each time he goes out.
Finally, he went out his way to check upon things and confirm what he had heard.
There was a huge part in him that hoped everything was a lie.
He somehow thought that the women could only be jesting around or fabricating things out of boredom.
He hurriedly went to the underground location and searched for some entrance trapdoor, but the ground was only covered with thick asphalts and debris.
When a colonist soldier had spotted the boy who raised suspicion by tampering the restricted area, he was immediately brought under custody for an impromptu interrogation. Toren attempted to get away by telling them that he was only an artist that was curious about the alleged organization's hideout that he was planning to paint.
During those times, he felt like his world was crashing, knowing the colonists would not take those reasons valid.
He was sweating heavily as his heart pounded wildly like a roaring lion. His breath was shortening and his lungs felt collapsing. There was nothing else he could hear but few murmurs. Even his sight had blurred into doubles and some confusing images, almost like the abstracts he was painting.
Right before losing consciousness, he had seen his butler barging in, introducing himself, and explaining things.
The butler was telling the boy that everything was alright and they could go back to the headquarters now.
Right then, Toren lost consciousness and completely collapsed at the chair he was sitting on.
The butler had no choice but to carry the boy back into his private room.
The nurses tended to him by removing his clothes, wiping all his cold sweats, and conducting medical practices to aid him. They put a thin robe in his body and covered him with a thick blanket.
His head was elevated by a pillow and his feet were warmed with some fabrics.
Slipping through between consciousness and into nothingness alternately within milliseconds at a fluctuating interval, Toren could feel the world spinning. There was also a soft murmur echoing back and forth to his skull and brain, as if reaching out for him.
"Help," A male voice struggled to yell at Toren's head.
"Help us. Please. Do something!"
Toren began crying silently when he recognized the voice.
It was from his brother Coen – begging for his help.