[Somewhere in a neighboring country]
An older uniformed man with long sleek black hair slicked into a ponytail is relaxing in his office watching the new recruits through the window, scattering about following behind high ranking officers like zombies. Amused by this he sneers turning to face his desk as he pulls some documents from the top right drawer , lighting a cigar as he scribes through the contents. This man is a general in the military, put in charge of the war effort in the country of Hartford two years ago. He is currently in running to become the new prime minister.
"Hmm, why would they want me to sign off on such a destructive plan?" his voice was almost emotionless, but there was a hint of enjoyment at the idea. He slowly begins laughing mischievously , building into a sinister cackle. He flips through the pages intently until he comes across a set of blueprints, "How interesting...." he drops the pages in shock, revealing the source of his reaction; the blueprints for a new type of bomb.
He hurriedly shoves the documents back where he got them from before swinging his chair back around to face the windows, he cracks a dark twisted smile "This war may be coming to an end sooner than I expected."
[The road near Brakus' neighborhood]
A car pulls up next to Brakus who is collapsed on the street completely unresponsive, it comes to a slow stop followed by the slamming of a car door.
The old man carefully carries Brakus to his car as rain begins to fall onto his brow , thunder booms in the distance as the wind begins to pick up speed.
"What did he get himself into this time? I thought I told him to take it easy." He says as he observes Brakus' blood soaked clothing under a light. He meticulously straps Brakus into the back seat using a small rope to loop around the seat belts. Once he is finished he gives the makeshift rope a tug to assure it is tight enough to hold him in place, any movement could be devastating.
"I hope that amazing luck of his hasn't abandoned him." He glances at Brakus one last time before closing the door and hopping in the front. The engine roars as he turns back towards the shopping district and punches it, the tires screeching against the damp pavement.
[10 minutes later: Back at the shop]
The storm from earlier has shown no signs of letting up, the wind cuts through the endless downpour of rain which has started to flood the streets around the store. The old man's car zooms through a puddle, sending a wave of water splashing onto the windshield as it screams to a halt outside of the store.
The old man hops into action slamming the car into park, and scrambling from the car in a panic as there is no time to waste. The bleeding has gotten worse since he found Brakus laying in the street , if he loses anymore blood he will need a transfusion. His hands tremble uncontrollably as he struggles to unknot the rope. Brakus' face starts to go pale like a ghost from blood loss and the old man knows there isn't much time left for Brakus, having seen many soldiers bleed out in combat.
He hurriedly draws his knife, cutting his own leg when it release from its holster "Dammit!" He recoils in pain as he cuts Brakus' bindings. "I don't have the luxury to tend to my wounds I need to get him inside.." he picks him up and scatters to the door, being careful not to reopen any wounds. Once inside, he rushes into the backroom And lays him on the military style cot that he used to operate on Brakus the night before. He rushes to the medicine cabinet to gather any supplies he may need and the x-ray device and he begins to perform examinations and sealing wounds simultaneously. He was a genius when it came to medical work, his talent was wasted as a field medic and now a shopkeeper.
[1 hour later]
Brakus' eyes open to a familiar ceiling, he attempts to jump from his bed but is unable to move. He is in a full body cast and strapped to a bed. "Oh great you're awake. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it" Brakus turns his eyes to see the old man standing over him with a look of relief , which is immediately replaced by the hardened look of a veteran with a smirk on his face. "I actually made it! but why dont I remember getting here..." a puzzled glare appears on his face. "Well not exactly..." he pauses to grab a box of cigarettes from his left pocket, lightning one with a quick flick of a flip lighter before he continues. "I was looking for you, I thought about our last conversation and there's too many unresolved issues, but on my way to the residential district there you were passed out alongside the road In a desperate state."
Brakus could tell he was telling the truth. Unlike last night, there was no sign of deception in his eyes. They sit in silence for a moment but after a while Brakus decides to speak up, breaking the silence "Sooo what do you know about the shadows?".
This catches the veteran off guard causing his cigarette to drop from his mouth and rolling across the floor. The energy of the room intensifies as fear replaces the old man's tough demeanor. "Before I can answer that you'll need to explain to me where exactly you heard about the Shadows." he slams his hands down on the edge of the bed.
So Brakus begins to recount all of the events of that night in complete detail , until the old man raises his hand signaling that he has heard enough. "And today I was brought to a terrifying cave covered in a disgusting sludge and attacked by two monks !" he blurts out in terror , his voice cracks and shakes unsteadied by the thought of it.
"We have much to discuss then, since they are already trying to cut off loose ends." He pulls another cigarette from the pack, lightning it with large puff, smoke filling the room.
"I'll tell you about the Shade group..." he takes a drag from his cigarette and slowly blows a plume of smoke.