The strong winds of noon bellowed strong, causing grasses and trees to waver and riot. Before this tempest's power, a man stood nonchalantly—in heavy thought.
This man was Yanza.
He gazed at a burnt-down mansion and reminisced, planning his consequent actions.
Individuals met and activities performed flashed before his eyes. Those secret documents, ones he skimmed during work, were remembered.
"Thaddeus, who truly killed you. My valuable chess piece," Yanza pondered, observing the rotten, charred patch of land.
He had lost control of things he once grasped, and an endless drove of people seemed to pursue him. To hurt.
Their methods subtly touched his own, his level of scheme and cruelty. And they were powerful, too powerful.
