Ominous clouds rolled in to swallow up the daylight. What light managed to penetrate the clouds was pale and cast a muted color over everything in sight. The silence only broke at the sound of the cawing of crows and wind in the trees.

The air was heavy and damp as Jun ran through the bushes. Avoiding the roads, Jun scampered through the thicket. Everything was backwards now. He had always been lost trying to find civilization, now he was running from it.

Breathless, Jun paused to examine the dry stains of blood on his hands and clothes. A reminder of lives lost and scars that would never heal. His clothes were soiled and stained from days without soap or water. As the clouds overhead darkened further, Jun was certain a downpour was imminent.

The first few raindrops began to spatter on the leaves as the occasional gust of wind ruffled through the trees. Jun picked up his pace, running downhill until he stumbled upon a hidden stream in the valley. He removed his dirt-stained shirt and plunged his arms into the icy water.

The cold rain brought with it a sense of cleanliness, purifying the air, and washing away the past. The gentle pitter-patter of the raindrops became more soothing with every passing moment, offering a brief respite from the turmoil of this unpredictable world.

But peace was short-lived, shattered by a sudden rattling of metal on metal nearby. Jun's eyes darted around, and he spotted a man washing his face in the stream only a short distance away. The fear of being caught dissipated as Jun eyed the man's wrist shackles.

Rising to his feet, Jun gave a small wave to catch the man's attention. With a clear, confident voice, he called out, "Friendly?"

As the rain drizzled down on them, Jun approached the man who shouted back to him, "Friendly! I was keeping my distance, hoping you were headed somewhere worthwhile!"

Jun held his drenched shirt in one hand, trying to make a good impression. He quipped, "Only if you consider water important," hoping to lighten the mood.

The man's face twisted in confusion as he thought for a second before he burst into laughter. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Fresh water. For all those months I spent in that forsaken pit." With that, the man sprang up from the stream, splashing water in the air with unbridled joy. Jun couldn't help but smile at the man's enthusiasm, even when he almost slipped in the mud.

The thought of being locked up in a dark cell for years, like this man had been, sent shivers down Jun's spine. He had been haunted by the deaths of several prison guards, but their sacrifice had opened the door to freedom. In the midst of the dreary, rainy world, these two men were grateful to be alive and free.

Jun extended his hand and introduced himself. The man collected himself, shook Jun's hand, and said, "Walin of South Bay." Struggling to remove his old prison shirt, Walin realized that the shackles still bound him. With a fierce tug, he ripped the fabric and flung it aside, wiping his face with his hands before speaking. "Are you a part of the rebellion? I joined up after my brother was arrested for poaching. Those Knights don't care who you are… any connection to the rebels is enough to get you thrown into the deep for fifteen years."

Jun's ears perked up at those words. "There's a rebellion?!" he asked.

Pulling on his shackles, Walin replied, "You bet there is. Lots of people are angry at the King. That's how I'm getting these off. They'll change your appearance, so you won't be recognized by anyone. They can change your hair color and everything."

Jun's heart raced with anticipation as the idea of rebellion filled his mind. The chance to change his identity was an opportunity he couldn't pass up, His voice was laced with excitement as he said, "I'm in! Where do we go?"

Walin flashed a crooked smile that seemed to say he had something up his sleeve. "There's a safe house that I know of. We can rest there for a bit and get you all set up."

As they began to make their way through the rain-soaked landscape, Jun felt a renewed sense of purpose. The rain continued to fall, but it no longer felt like a symbol of gloominess. Rather, it was a sign of hope and renewal.

Walin's bare feet slipped and sloshed through the muddy ground, but despite his struggles, he remained on his feet. He spoke of a rebel sympathizer who might be able to help them at a nearby farmhouse as they pressed on.

As they drew near to the farmhouse, Jun spotted two lanterns hanging in the window and an open front door. Walin pointed it out, and they quickened their pace, hoping for a warm welcome. But as they entered the barn, their hopes were dashed by the sight of four armed men, their swords at the ready. Jun's heart skipped a beat as he tried to make out their faces in the dim light.

Then, a familiar voice called out, "By the Gods, Jun, you scared us half to death, brother."

Jun's eyes widened as he recognized the voice. "Gerrant? Is that you?" he exclaimed.

Gerrant let out a bellowing laugh that shook the rafters of the old barn. He lowered his weapon and wrapped Jun up in a bear hug that squeezed the breath out of him. "My friend, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Putting Jun down, Gerrant turned back to the others and added, "Lower your weapons, boys. We all owe this man a great debt!"

The rebel swordsmen sheathed their weapons, their tense postures relaxing. Jun took in his surroundings, the ramshackle cart with its sturdy horse, and the shattered remnants of prison shackles strewn on the ground.

"Well, it looks like I didn't miss all the fun," Jun commented as he gave one of the broken shackles a swift kick.

Gerrant wasted no time getting down to business as he said, "Yanna will free you from those pesky cuffs, and then we'll be on our way."

Walin hurried over to Yanna, eager to be rid of his restraints. Gerrant turned back to Jun, his expression more serious now. "I'm glad you made it out in one piece, my friend, but I can't disclose the location of our encampment. It's nothing personal, you understand. The Boss has strict rules about secrecy and security."

Jun nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He wasn't a member. He replied, "I understand, I guess I'll have to sit this one out."

But Gerrant wasn't having it. He clapped a massive hand on Jun's shoulder, his eyes glinting with warmth as he leaned in close and whispered, "No."

Before Jun could process what was happening, he felt a sharp sting at the back of his head, and the world went black.

When he came to, he was bouncing around in the back of a wagon, the beat of hooves against the dirt road and Gerrant's hearty laughter filling his ears. His head was throbbing with pain, and the sticky warmth of blood trickled down his neck.

As the wagon came to a stop, Jun was pulled out and led into a dark room. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and musty hay, and the only light came from a few flickering oil lamps scattered throughout the space.

Many voices nearby spoke in whispers as two shadowy figures were huddled together, their voices low and urgent. Jun strained to listen, desperate for any clue as to where he was and what was happening to him.

"It's too big of a risk," one voice muttered. "Are you willing to pay the price if it doesn't work out?"

The second voice replied, "This is war. I know you have been behind bars for the last few months, but things are getting worse every day. The cards are set. We might not get another chance like this."

Jun struggled to make sense of the words. What were they talking about? And what price were they willing to pay? His mind raced with questions, but before rational thought returned to his head, a third figure stepped out of the shadows.

It was Gerrant, his face stern and unyielding. "He's awake, more or less."

As the sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, Gerrant turned his attention to Jun, his eyes dark and brooding. "You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and regret.

Jun struggled to sit up, his head pounding with pain. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gerrant hesitated for a moment before answering. "You're in the heart of the Rebel encampment," he said. "Someone wants to speak with you."

Jun's head was throbbing, and he couldn't help but reach up to feel the knot on top of his skull. His hands weren't tied with rope. Had they brought him here to let him go? Or was this some kind of sick game?

Without a word, Gerrant stepped to the side, making way for an older man to approach. He hobbled over to Jun, leaning on a cane as he knelt down beside him.

"Glad to see you could make it," the man said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "Forgive my friend's blunt nature. Our location isn't meant to be handed out to anyone. I'm Hurmek. Leader of the Rebellion."

Jun nodded, still rubbing his aching head as he took in his surroundings. It was almost pitch black in the room, with only the flickering light of a few oil lamps to illuminate the space. But even in the dim light, Jun saw that Hurmek was an older man, with a weathered face and a missing arm that had been replaced with a makeshift knot at the elbow.

Finding his words, Jun said, "Yeah, nice to meet you. I'm Jun..."

But before he could finish, Hurmek cut him off. "Jun of Highschool, yes, I know," he said, a note of admiration in his voice. "Several of our members have stepped forward to vouch for you and your musical skills. Very impressive. You've made quite a reputation for yourself. That feat is commendable."

Jun felt a surge of pride at the praise, but he couldn't help but wonder why. As if sensing his confusion, Hurmek stood back up and barked, "Lights!"

In an instant, the room was flooded with light, revealing a sprawling lair cloth draped walls filled with Rebel fighters and supplies. Men, women, and children as young as eight or nine years old. Jun's eyes widened as he took it all in, realizing that he had stumbled upon something much bigger than he could have ever imagined.

As Hurmek turned to face the room, his eyes blazed with determination. "Look around you," he said, gesturing to the group of rebels gathered before him. "Each and every one of us knows what it's like to be lost, alone, and living in fear. But we've come together because we believe in something bigger than ourselves. We believe in the power of unity, the power to create a ripple that can grow into a tidal wave of change."

Jun was still overwhelmed by the situation and kept his words to himself.

Seeing Jun's hesitation, Hurmek continued his speech. "You're right to be skeptical," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But let me be clear, we're not just any rebellion. We are your rebellion. I… now we have been waiting for you for a long time. Someone with the words and talent to back it up.

Hurmek used his cane to point at a tapestry with a drawing on it. There was a hand drawn structure labeled "The Palace" and roads going in and out of the capital city. "This is Operation Valiant Hope. This is the plan I have pieced together for months while waiting for someone like you to step into my office."

Jun inspected the map as Hurmek continued, "In the evenings the people of the castle love listening to music as they dine. Using your music, you will infiltrate the castle posing as an entertainer. Request a bathroom break and sneak into the eastern battlement."

Jun listened as Hurmek went over all the intricate details of the plan. All while pointing his cane at the various locations on his map. He said, "If you succeed, you'll become a hero to the people of Gulia. You'll be remembered for generations as the one who brought down the tyrant and freed our land from his death grip."

Turning away from the map, Jun's eyes narrowed as he considered Hurmek's plan. "And if I fail?" he asked.

Hurmek's expression darkened. "If you fail," he said, his voice intensified, "You'll be putting yourself and everyone you love in danger. But the real danger is what will happen if we don't try. Our people will continue to suffer under the tyrant's rule, and their lives will be even harder with every attempt to free them."

Hurmek's words reverberated through the room, filling the air with a heavy silence. But as the tension peaked, a faint cough from someone in the crowd echoed from the back of the room. Jun further broke the silence, cutting through the weighty atmosphere, "And...?"

"And you complete Operation Valiant Hope! The assassination of the King!" Hurmek held his cane to the sky with a sense of victory over his oppressors.

Jun's response was immediate and unwavering, "No."

The disappointment on Hurmek's face was palpable, his defeat consuming him. Jun continued, "Of course, no! I thought I was just here for a simple hair dye, not some impossible Valiant Hope mission! I'm a musician, not an assassin. I strum a guitar and sing sometimes, not kill people. Are you out of your mind?"

"But your skills..." Hurmek began, trying to persuade him.

With a firm and resolute tone, Jun cut off Hurmek once again, saying "No! No way, and no thank you."

Defeated, Hurmek slumped back to his desk, shuffling papers aside with a frustrated sigh. Turning to the crowd, he announced, "Never mind everyone. Return to your business."

The crowd, filled with disappointment and murmurs, began to filter out, their expressions clearly conveying their unspoken disapproval.

Jun stood up and made his way over to Hurmek's desk, apologizing for any inconvenience he may have caused.

Hurmek, not looking at Jun, responded with a stoic tone, "If any of our members were in your position, they would have jumped at the chance to seek revenge against their oppressor. Perhaps you are the forgiving type, or if you simply hadn't suffered enough yet."

Sensing the tension, Gerrant intervened and reminded Hurmek, "Let's not forget Jun's past contributions. He was the one that snuck a file into Pachan Dungeon and saved a handful of people, including myself."

Hurmek begrudgingly acknowledged Gerrant's words with a nod and returned to his paperwork, not willing to waste any more time on Jun.

Maintaining a happy tone, Gerrant asked, "Tell me what is it that you desire, Jun of Highschool? Coin? Fame? Fortune? Wife? Kids? Cottage in the woods? What be it?"

Shaking his head, Jun said, "Not at all, I just want to go home. That is all I ever wanted. But the truth is, I don't know how to get home… and I am not even sure how I got here."

Without missing a beat, Gerrant pointed to the map and asked, "That's no problem. Can you point it out on the map?"

Saying that he was from the modern world wouldn't make any sense to Gerrant. Jun had to think of a way to word himself so that Gerrant would understand. Jun said, "No, there is no map that can take me home. In fact, my home is… beyond traveling distance. Possibly beyond time itself."

With a thoughtful pause, Jun decided to try a different approach. He shook his head and replied, "I'm afraid a map won't do me much good. You see, my home is not on any map that I have seen. It's not only a matter of distance, but possibly of time."

Gerrant and Hurmek exchanged a bewildered look, unsure of what to make of Jun's words. Gerrant shifted the conversation and turned to Yanna and shouted, "Yanna! You still have some hair dye on hand? This lad could use a change of appearance."

As they made their way through the winding tunnels of the encampment, Jun couldn't help but sense the peculiar stench permeating the air. He soon realized that the walls were mere drapes of cloth covering cavernous rocks, and the rebels shared their home with a host of massive skunks.

Jun's panic grew as the skunks roamed in and out of the tunnels scavenging for food scraps. He had never seen creatures so large and stinky before. Gerrant led him into a small bathroom-sized room and motioned for him to take a seat, brushing a baby skunk off a chair.

Clearing his nose from the overpowering stench, Jun couldn't help but ask, "What's with all the skunks? Are they the rebel mascots or something?"

Gerrant let out a hearty laugh and slapped Jun on the back. "I wish! But no, these critters are our greatest allies in the fight against our enemies. Let me ask you this, my friend: what's the only animal that can scare off a bear?"

As Jun opened his mouth to speak, Gerrant beat him to the punch with a declaration. "If a bear won't brave the Malodor Barrow, then the Alestrian Knight will think twice too. We feed them. They protect us. It's a mutual agreement," he proclaimed with confidence.

Without missing a beat, Gerrant scooped up a baby skunk and began to stroke it like a pet cat. "She will take care of the rest. Whatever your plans are after this, it was good seein' you again mate. Take care," he bid farewell as he made his way towards the door, skunk in tow.

As Gerrant departed, Yanna produced a pair of sharp scissors from her trusty leather pouch and began to snip away at Jun's locks. The rhythmic sound of her scissors echoed through the room, punctuated only by the occasional sound of water as Yanna dampened Jun's hair from a nearby bucket.

As the minutes ticked by, several rebel members walked by, shooting Jun icy glares that made him feel anything but welcome. It was an unnerving experience. Unable to take the silence any longer, Jun broke it by asking Yanna, "Everyone hates me now, don't they?"

Unaffected by the hostility that hung in the air, Yanna kept her voice level and calm as she replied. "No, not everyone here is out for bloody vengeance. I could tell you were different the moment I laid eyes on you."

Jun was taken aback by her response. "Really? Am I that readable?" he asked in surprise.

As Yanna continued to snip away at his hair, she retrieved a yellowish dye from her kit and applied it with meticulous care. "You don't remember me, do you?" she asked softly.

Jun turned to look at her face as he searched his memory. She was tall and thin, with piercing blue eyes and blonde hair. "I'm sorry, but I can't seem to place you," he confessed.

Yanna smiled gently. "I saw you in Mertia Village. You got into a bar fight, and then you played music for hours in the pub. You were amazing," she reminisced.

Like a light bulb flickering to life, Jun's memory was illuminated with the face of the woman cutting his hair. "Oh yeah, I do remember you. I think... That was a good time," he said, the words rolling off his tongue without a second thought.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, disappointment crept over Yanna's face like a dark cloud. She repeated, "Good times? That was the last day before Mertia was burned to the ground by Alestrian Knights. People died, homes destroyed, entire families were scattered in the wind, including my own. I don't consider those good times."

Jun's heart sank as he realized his error. He felt like a fool for not remembering the gravity of the situation. The yellow dye Yanna was using dripped down onto his bare chest, but he didn't react to it. His mind was consumed with thoughts of the world they lived in, a world where the King's Knights could burn down villages and kill their own people with impunity.

What was wrong with the world? Why did the King's Knights think they could treat people this way?

He turned to Yanna, eager to learn more about what had happened in Mertia Village. "What exactly happened in Mertia Village?" he asked, hoping to understand the Knight's actions.

Yanna put down her scissors and explained, "The Knights were doing a Quaerere search, which is a fancy way of saying a manhunt. Under his royal authority, the King's knights can do as they please," she said with a mixture of anger and disgust in her voice.

Jun nodded in understanding. He had seen the same thing in Niebaum, where the knights had hung two people in the town square as a warning to the rest of the village. "Who were they looking for?" he asked.

Yanna shrugged. "Who knows? They're usually looking for criminals, outlaws, or anyone they think might be performing illegal acts. It sickens me to think about it."

As Yanna poured water onto his head to remove the dye, Jun reflected on what he had learned. It was a cruel world they lived in where innocent people suffered daily.

As Yanna finished up his haircut, she put the bucket of water down in front of him so Jun could see his reflection. Glancing down into the bucket, Jun waited for the water to calm. When it did, he was baffled by what he saw.

There was a different man staring back at him. Back home there were mirrors in every bathroom and bedroom. It was uncommon not to see yourself on a daily basis. Since he had been in Gulia, Jun hadn't seen his reflection in weeks. The excess weight he used to carry on his neck was gone leaving a sharp jawline. His pale skin was now tanned. Now thanks to Yanna, his simple brown hair was gone and replaced with golden locks.

Without receiving a response from Jun, Yanna started to pack up her hair dressing kit and said, "I hope it suits you, but it's the last of my dyes. Since I have been here, I have used up my supplies. I am sure there are more people who would need a change of color. Everyday there are new people angry at the King, willing to join the rebellion."

Finding his voice, Jun replied, "Everyone is angry. With the number of skeletons in the King's closet, he deserves a rebellion in every town."

A smile finally crossed Yanna's face as she said, "That would be a welcome sight. An army capable of fighting back against the King and his Alestrian Knights. We might stand a chance. The problem is no one wants to be the first to draw their sword."

Jun corrected her, "You mean, no one wants to pull the trigger."

Yanna looked confused. "What is a trigger?"

Jun covered his mouth in disbelief. The gears in his head started to spin on their own. He had knowledge of a world beyond this one.

Without a word to Yanna, Jun bolted out of the room, determined to find Hurmek. As he sprinted down the hallway, he almost tripped over a pair of skunks engaged in a fierce brawl over some chicken bones.

With a sharp left turn, he reverse-engineered the path back to Hurmek's office. With a single swipe of his arm, Jun yanked open the cloth door and barged into the room. Hurmek was in the midst of a meeting with another rebel, but Jun didn't bother to acknowledge him. His eyes were locked on Hurmek.

"Hurmek, I've got a question for you,"

Hurmek braced himself, grabbing his cane and rising from his chair. But Jun paid him no mind. Instead, he pointed to the map drawn on the canvas and fired off his question.

"Why don't you storm the capital with your men?" Jun demanded. "Isn't that what you want? To kill the king? Why do you send people like me to attempt an assassination when you could do it the easy way?"

Hurmek let out a scoffing laugh and shook his head. "You fool," he spat. "We don't have the manpower or siege equipment to break into Capital city, let alone the castle. Only a madman would attempt such a thing."

"Why not? Do the King's knights out number ours?" Jun pressed, already knowing the answer.

Hurmek's eyes narrowed as he replied, "They do. Each one of them is a fierce warrior, capable of holding off twenty of our men if they're on horseback. They're better fed, better trained, and better equipped than we are."

Without missing a beat, Jun grabbed a fist-sized piece of chalk and began sketching on the tapestry. "That's right, they have every advantage. But what if I told you that I come from a land where no one wears full plate armor? No one wears it because we have a device that renders it useless."

Hurmek waited with a mix of curiosity and skepticism as Jun's chalk scratched away at the canvas. Hurmek quip, "I'd say that Highschool must be a very strange place indeed."

Jun didn't even acknowledge the sarcasm. "You're right it is. But before I was Jun of Highschool, I was an engineering student at Yorktown. And this," he said, gesturing to his chalk drawing, "is my bread and butter."

Finishing his drawing, Jun stepped back and echoed the cave and he stated, "Voila! The answer to your problems!" He turned around to find a small but curious crowd had gathered around him, observing his creation. Unabashedly shirtless and brimming with excitement, Jun pointed to his masterpiece.

But to his dismay, Hurmek's face remained baffled as he could only manage a feeble, "What is it?"

Determined to enlighten them all, Jun stepped forward and declared, "It's a gun, my friends! Yes, I know it might look strange and unfamiliar to you, but trust me, this ingenious contraption will revolutionize warfare. When an explosion occurs inside the tube, it only has one way to go. By blocking off all paths except one, we can harness that energy and propel an object with tremendous force towards a target. And that, my educated comrades, is a gun."

But despite his dramatic explanation, the room remained silent. Jun turned to Hurmek once more, hoping for a reaction, but received only a puzzled stare and the same question, "So what does it do?"

Deflated, Jun dropped the chalk and retorted, "I just explained it to you, didn't I? But never mind, even if you don't comprehend the science behind it, just remember that this marvelous device will level the playing field. No amount of armor, horse riding skills, or combat training can stand up to the sheer stopping power of a gun."

Hurmek continued to scrutinize the design, torn between calling Jun a genius or a madman. A voice from the back of the room broke the silence, "I'll take two!"

Jun and a few people laughed at his comment, but Hurmek did not. He was deep in thought all the way up until he muttered, "Make one."

As Jun presented the design to the rugged rebel blacksmith, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with apprehension. The short, burly man gave the drawing of the metal tube a once-over before shrugging his shoulders. It wasn't a complicated build - just a stout, heavy metal sheath with a cap on one end. But oh, the possibilities!

As the blacksmith began working on the prototype, Jun scoured the encampment until he found someone with a pouch of a Pyrus Tree sap. With a little bit of smooth-talking, he managed to persuade them to hand over their stash. This was a risky move, but the potential rewards were too great to ignore.

The blacksmith's mastery of metalworking was evident in the countless tools scattered about his workspace. However, the thickness of the metal made the process slow going. Jun didn't want to rush him, opting instead to keep a watchful eye and be patient.

Once per hour or so, Gerrant would sneak a peek into the room to check on their progress. It was clear that Hurmek had given orders to keep a close eye on Jun's activities, but he didn't let that deter him. Jun knew that the rebels would be interested in such a weapon - if it was even possible to create one with a simple forge and kiln.

Despite his excitement, Jun couldn't help but question the ethics of introducing firearms to a people who were still wielding swords, shields, and bows. He hadn't even seen a crossbow in his time in Gulia. Creating a gun was skipping an entire step.

After what felt like an eternity, Yanna sauntered into the forge and made her way over to Jun. But it wasn't just any casual stroll, oh no. She had a bowl of hot, steaming food in one hand and something mysterious tucked under her arm.

The walls rang with the sound of the blacksmith's hammer as Yanna sat down next to Jun. She cut straight to the chase and offered Jun the bowl of food. Without question he accepted it, knowing that it was likely the best meal he'd had in weeks. After a few bites, he could tell that Yanna was getting antsy. She couldn't wait for the answer as she asked, "These walls echo on their own. It makes rumors travel quickly around here. They say you are a time traveler. Is this true?"

Jun's expression turned as he considered his response. "I know it sounds far-fetched," he began, "but I can tell you that my people mastered the art of crafting these weapons over five or six hundred years ago."

Yanna raised an eyebrow as she said, "Really? How could you even know that?" as she pointed out the absurdity of his claim. "You are a musician, an engineer, and a keeper of knowledge on ancient weapons? Do you understand how crazy that sounds? Next you are going to claim you can raise the dead."

Jun couldn't help but chuckle at her response. "Well," he said with a grin, "if you think that's impressive, just wait until I invent a defibrillator."

Yanna didn't find his joke quite as funny as he did. Without saying another word, she stood up and dropped a roll of cloth onto Jun's lap before storming out of the forge. Jun knew he had made a mistake, and he called out after her, but she didn't look back. As he unfolded the cloth, he realized that it was a simple linen shirt.

He put it on, trying to push the awkward exchange out of his mind. But as he reflected on their conversation, it suddenly hit him. Yanna's village had been destroyed just a week ago. His defibrillator joke was completely insensitive. Jun silently cursed himself for not thinking before he spoke, and he made a mental note to be more careful with his words in the future.

The clanging of the blacksmith's hammer echoed through the night, as if it were orchestrating a symphony. Gerrant kept a watchful eye on the tireless craftsman, visiting him numerous times despite the late hour.

As his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Jun knew it was nighttime because the halls were quiet without their usual giant skunks roaming about.

When the blacksmith finished, he inspected Jun's sketches with a critical eye while rubbing his weary shoulder. After scrutinizing the hunk of metal, he plunged it into a bucket of water with a triumphant hiss. Placing the weapon back onto the forge, he declared, "It's done. Leave it to cool overnight."

Turning to Jun, the blacksmith saw the young man had dozed off against the wall. He kindly draped a blanket over him before retiring to his own bed. It had been a grueling day for them both.

The next morning, Jun awoke with a stiff back but wasted no time complaining. The forge was dark as the blacksmith snored in his bed. Stepping out into the hallway, Jun grabbed an oil lamp, and he made his way back to the forge.

Upon examination, he couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. The design was exactly what he had requested. A arm's length round barrel with a minuscule hole for the striker pin.

With meticulous focus, Jun loaded a piece of Pyrus sap into the barrel of his makeshift gun, scrutinizing every detail to ensure the striker pin could hit its mark. With an iron rod, he then pushed a lead scrap into the barrel, ensuring it couldn't go any further. Finally, he basked in his accomplishment. It was this world's first gun.

Testing his creation, Jun aimed the barrel towards the ceiling and tapped the striker pin. His heart racing, he wondered how much force was necessary to make the Pyrus sap explode. Was it even possible under these conditions? Doubts crept into his mind as he inserted the striker and tapped the sap, but nothing happened. Panic set in as he held the striker in place and tried tapping it with his finger to no avail. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he came to the realization that the gun wasn't working.

In a last-ditch effort, Jun reached for the blacksmith's hammer, desperate to make something happen. Holding the striker in place with his thumb, he tapped it with the hammer, but still, nothing happened. Frustrated, Jun smacked the striker with all his might.

A sudden, explosive burst of glowing red fire from the barrel that sent smoke billowing everywhere. The force of the recoil was so powerful that Jun lost his grip on the barrel, which flew back into his chest, knocking the breath out of him and sending him tumbling to the ground in a heap, gasping for air.

As Jun struggled to regain his bearings, he heard the blacksmith, awakened by the noise, shouting in confusion and alarm. Smoke filled the air, making it difficult to see, as the blacksmith waved his hands to clear his vision. "Kid, are you alright?" he cried out, concerned for Jun's safety.

As Jun lay on the ground, he gasped for air like a fish out of water. His body was wracked with pain, but it was a happy pain, the kind that comes after a job well done. When he regained his breath, all he could do was laugh like a mad man.

The blacksmith, who had been watching the spectacle with a mixture of awe and concern, helped Jun to his feet as the smoke from the explosion rolled out into the hallway. With a grin on his face, Jun shouted, "We are out of the stone age now! Check it out."

He pointed upwards towards the Blacksmith's ceiling where a small beam of light had now flooded the morning sunlight into the cave. "It worked! The damn thing works!" Jun's excitement drew the attention of the other rebels who had been awakened by the explosion.

Without waiting for a response from the blacksmith, Jun grabbed his bag of sap and a handful of lead chucks from the forge. He knew that they had work to do, and there was no time to waste. He started shouting orders like he was in charge, barking out commands to the other rebels like a seasoned general.

"You there, I need a chest piece of plate armor and some rope. Take it outside, ASAP." He pointed to a second rebel and said, "Find Hurmek and if he isn't awake, wake him up. He needs to see this." Jun turned down a dead-end hallway and nearly ran face-first into a wall. In a last-ditch effort to spare his dignity, he turned to a third rebel and said, "Can you show me where the exit is? I have no idea where I am going."

All the rebels gathered around as Jun strapped a piece of armor to a nearby tree and backed away. He was still unsure of its accuracy, so he only stood back five or six paces from his target. He spoke in a manner so everyone could hear the steps. "Carefully load the Pyrus sap. Slowly load the lead chuck. Place the striking pin into position. Point the weapon at your target. And…"

Jun's heart sank as he realized he didn't have the Blacksmith's hammer with him. With no other choice, he scanned the ground for any object that could be used to strike the barrel. His eyes fell upon a rugged rock, and without hesitation, he picked it up.

Clutching the barrel with all his strength, Jun slammed the striking pin with the rock. The crowd's eyes widened as an explosion of dark red fire burst out from the barrel, followed by a thick cloud of smoke. Everyone covered their ears as the sound of the explosion rang out, making the several of them jump in fear.

Jun had braced himself for the recoil, but the jolt still sent a shiver down his spine. He cursed under his breath as he dropped the barrel to the ground and massaged his throbbing hand. He muttered, "we need to put a handle on this thing."

The rebels crowded around the armor piece, inspecting it with curiosity. Gerrant used his pocket knife to cut the rope, and the armor fell into his hands. He held it up for everyone to see the quarter-sized hole punched all the way through. As he handed the armor to Hurmek, Gerrant used his knife to dig the bullet out of the tree.

With the armor in his good arm, Hurmek flipped it over in disbelief, inspecting it from every angle. Suddenly, he let out a victorious cry, "Victoriam!" The rebels erupted into cheers, throwing their hands up in the air while jumping for joy.

Although Jun wasn't as enthusiastic as the others, he was still pleased. His weapon may have been dangerous and primitive, but it was groundbreaking technology for them. He reloaded the weapon several more times, passing it around for others to try.

With each shot, the shockwave rocked the surrounding forest, and the thunderous roar of cheers echoed in the air. Soon enough, the crowd caught on, and they started to reload the weapon on their own. Their fascination and intrigue fueled their understanding of this new and dangerous weapon.

Steeping back, Jun watched the scene with a mix of curiosity and unease. The rhythmic cycle of reloading, firing, and cheering was almost hypnotic. But as the sound of yet another shot echoed through the air, one person in the crowd recoiled in pain, shaking their hand as Jun had.

Suddenly, a voice startled Jun out of his thoughts. "So I guess Highschool is an interesting place."

Jun turned to see a nonchalant man leaning against a nearby tree trunk. It was Hurmek. Being an older man with only one arm he was the only person who couldn't wield the new weapon. Jun was taken aback by his sudden appearance, but he nodded and replied, "Yes, it is."

The sound of the gun firing off again interrupted their conversation, and Hurmek grabbed his cane to steady himself. The pair slowly walked back into the rebel hideout as Hurmek said, "Long ago before I lost my arm, I thought there was nothing worse than a revolution. Here I am, forty-seven years old and living my remaining days within the walls of a skunk den... and do you know what I have learned? The only thing worse than a revolution is the leadership that started that revolution."

As they walked towards Hurmek's hideout, the sound of the gunshots followed them, echoing down the hallway. They both looked back towards the crowd outside as Hurmek said, "I overheard you talking with Gerrant. You wish to get home, but you are from another time? How is that possible."

With a small nod, Jun agreed, "To be honest I am not really sure. It's complicated."

"Perhaps less complicated than you think." Hurmek said as he reached his desk. Sitting down, Hurmek wasted no time pulling out a scroll with a hand drawn picture of a gem on it. He stated, "This is the infamous Umbral Capstone. It is easily one of the most sought-after relics in the entire world. It is said that when you hold the Capstone in your hands that which you most desire comes to fruition."

Looking at the drawing then back to Hurmek, Jun questioned, "How is that possible?"

Hurmek shrugged as he said, "Some people say it was created as a gift for all the prayers left unanswered. I say it is a tool to get you back to your time. The Capstone could be the answer to your problems. It could send you home. Wherever home could be. Would you like to give it a try?"

Without hesitation, Jun replied, "You bet I would, but how do we get it?"

"You can keep that." Hurmek said as handed the scroll back to Jun. He said, "I have a proposition for you. An exchange of services. I help you get the Capstone, while you help me. Now, how long will it take to make at least ten more of those weapons?"

With a fiery passion burning in their hearts, the rebel encampment rallied together and transformed into a well-oiled machine. A symphony of clanging metal echoed through the air as they toiled away to mass produce their prized creation that the rebels began calling, The Sap Spear.

Under the guidance of the skilled blacksmith and a handful of devoted volunteers, the forge roared to life, spitting out barrels and striking pins at an impressive pace. One of the woodworkers skillfully added wooden pieces to the backs of the weapons, reducing recoil and the amount of grip strength needed to fire.

As the days passed, Jun took charge of overseeing the final construction of the pistols to ensure they were crafted to perfection. Amidst the searing heat of the forge, Jun would lead the workers outside to test-fire the new weapons.

Overwhelmed with admiration, Jun marveled at the incredible ingenuity of the rebels. What once took an entire day to construct the first prototype, now took a mere six hours to craft newer models with upgraded stocks. The rebels were truly a force to be reckoned with.

As the days went by, the pungent aroma of skunk wafting through the air became almost bearable to Jun. In fact, he even started tossing the remains of his meals to the skunks, earning him a few nods of approval from some of the rebel fighters.

Almost overnight, Jun's status within the encampment rose as he was even met with salutes from some of the rebels. But Jun took it with a grain of salt. To him, it was all just a bit of fun and games.

Before retiring to bed each night, Jun would read the scroll by the dim light of the oil lamps. It told the tale of a brave adventurer named Tej, who discovered the fabled Umbral Capstone atop the highest peak of the Umbral Mountain, shrouded in darkness. For his remarkable achievement, the Goddess of Triumph, Thyrnir, granted him one wish.

The Umbral Capstone had been passed down through generations of royalty, always kept safe and sound within the confines of the Royal Family. It was only to be used in the direst of circumstances, as a last resort to protect the Kingdom from harm. That was the end of the scroll, there was nothing more.

Jun couldn't help but wonder if such an incredible artifact really existed. Why not use it to solve all the world's problems? Maybe there was a limit of one wish per person, which would explain its rarity and immense value.

As he entered his second week at the rebel base, Jun supervised the rebels practice at the firing range. Yanna, who had struggled with her aim at first, had continued practicing day after day until she became a consistent shot. Jun gave her a hearty thumbs up as she caught his eye, impressed by her dedication and hard work.

The so-called Sap Spears were ahead of their time, but Jun couldn't help but point out their flaws. Their effectiveness relied too much on a steady supply of lead and Pyrus sap. One shortage or either and they were worthless pieces of metal.

With a hint of luck, the rebels stumbled upon a godsend in the form of a mobile supplier named Lopex and his trusty mule, Bruke. Of course, Jun needed no introduction.

Lopex wasted no time in setting up shop at the cave entrance. After all, he was a jack of all trades, peddling whatever the rebels needed to survive. And boy, did they need him.

As the sun began to set, the rebels feasted on a succulent deer they had hunted down with their marksmanship skills. Jun, on the other hand, was busy inspecting the weapons they had made earlier that day. But his concentration was shattered when Yanna whispered in his ear, "Hey, word around says you are going to be the next Rebel Leader. I hope you're up to the task."

Jun didn't know how to react. He never considered himself leadership material. He didn't even see himself as a rebel. Maybe he had changed without realizing it, like his reflection in a bucket of water.

Without finishing his inspection, Jun stormed off to Hurmek's war room. The old geezer was nursing his bad knee while chatting away with Gerrant. Jun cut straight to the chase and asked, "What's the plan to get the Capstone? I've made over a dozen Sap Spears, which is more than we agreed on."

Hurmek gave a small chuckle, a twinkle in his eye. "Ah, Seeker of the Umbral Capstone, Jun. I like it." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You will be pleased to learn your operation is prepared."

Gerrant became a fly on the wall as Hurmek stood up and pulled a rope releasing a cloth map that unrolled from the ceiling. It was a map of a castle interior with doors, patrolling paths, guard dogs, and all roads leading in and out. It was a lot to take in. Jun asked, "What is it?"

With his gnarled cane clutched firmly in hand, Hurmek launched into a detailed explanation of Fort Dives. Located just three hours ride from the capital city, this fortress served as the ultimate storage location for all taxes collected within the kingdom. But for Jun, there was one item of particular interest - the Umbral Capstone, which was rumored to be held within its walls.

As he surveyed the fortress's formidable defenses, Jun couldn't help but draw comparisons to the medieval equivalent of Fort Knox. Turning to Hurmek, he asked, "So, what's the plan?"

Sinking back into his seat, Hurmek began to lay out their strategy. They had managed to acquire a royal tax cart that could hold up to eight rebels and two drivers. Jun and Gerrant, along with a hand-picked team of eight expert marksmen, would infiltrate the fortress under the guise of royal tax collectors. Once inside, they would load up the cart with as much loot as they could carry and make their escape. And if things went south and their true intentions were discovered, they would fight their way out with Sap Spears.

Jun studied the drawing, taking note of the meticulous planning and attention to detail that had gone into it. But as he pondered the prospect of taking human lives for profit, a sense of unease began to take hold. These guards were just doing their jobs - did they really deserve to die?

Before he could voice his concerns, Jun was met with dissent from Gerrant, "What's the problem, mate? The rebellion gets away with the coin, and you get to go home. Everyone wins."

Thinking about it, Jun couldn't see the plan working any other way. He said, "I think it sounds good, it's just missing one thing. A distraction."

The wagon bounced and jolted along the dusty road, stirring up a cloud of dirt behind it. The hidden rebels inside were buzzing with anticipation. Gerrant and Jun were decked out as Royal Tax Collectors, their tabards bearing the painted crest of King Alestro. It wasn't the most foolproof disguise, but it would do the trick from a distance.

In the distance, the walls of Fort Dives loomed, a formidable sight. The sun was setting, and they knew they had to finish their job before nightfall to make their escape.

As they drew nearer, Jun rapped on the storage compartment of the carriage and asked, "Ready, everyone? We're entering the outskirts now." Not a single rebel uttered a sound. They knew what was expected of them, just as Jun knew his duty.

Gerrant was silent as he focused on driving the carriage. Remaining calm in appearance only, Jun reached behind him and drew out a lute he had bought from Lopex, among other items. He began to strum a slow melody to soothe their nerves as they journeyed on.

The wagon trundled through the desolate market of the nearby village, where vendors and peasants clamored around during the day. But now, the only sound was the clop of hooves on the deserted streets. Jun kept playing his lute, whether to calm the rebels or himself, he wasn't sure.

Finally, they arrived at the fortified gates of Fort Dives. Two guards in shining armor stood atop the portcullis. Gerrant and Jun held their breath as the guards bellowed down, "Who goes there?! No deliveries are scheduled for today."

Jun put down his lute and, summoning all his acting skills, replied, "No delivery. We found one of our stolen carts. Someone abandoned it in the middle of nowhere, and we were instructed to bring it here!"

Jun was shaking with anticipation as he pulled the scroll from his pocket, he shouted, "We have all the papers right here. Let us in, we haven't got all day." His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he thought it might burst.

For a moment, he thought their cover was blown - surely the guards had seen through their disguises by now. He braced himself for the impact of an arrow, but nothing came. After much deliberation, one of the guards bellowed out a response, "Hold on."

The sound of the doors opening with a thunderous creaking noise was almost too much for Jun to handle. Gerrant slapped the reins on the horses as they lurched forward, pulling the carriage into the stronghold. They were inside the first gate. Jun could hardly believe that their plan was actually working.

As they made their way forward, the Fort was far less extravagant than Jun had imagined. The guards were few and far between, but Jun knew there were more lurking in the shadows. One of them motioned for them to halt, and Gerrant brought the horses to a stop.

A second guard approached Jun with his hand outstretched. Jun handed him the scroll and prepared for the worst. But Gerrant was already making his move. He pulled out his pistol from behind the seat in one swift motion.

The guard began to read through the papers, his eyes scanning back and forth. Jun could feel the tension building in the air. Their time undercover was almost up.

With a sudden shout, Gerrant screamed, "Hay!" as he urged the horses on. The carriage lurched forward with such force that it creaked out in protest. Gerrant urged his horses on, heedless of the frantic yells of the nearby guards.

As one of the guards scrambled to close the Keep doors, it was clear he was no match for the sheer momentum of the carriage. With a deafening crash, the doors gave way and the carriage thundered into the main hall.

The guards swarmed in to stop the invaders. The first victim fell with a sickening thud as Gerrant's pistol found its mark at point blank range.

The first shot was the signal the others were waiting for as the back doors of the carriage burst open. The rebels poured out of the carriage, brandishing their weapons like gleeful school children on a playground.

Amidst the chaos, Jun climbed down from the carriage seat, a deadly glint in his eye. The guards closed in, swords drawn, without hesitation, Jun drew his pistol and used his lute to hit the striking pin. One lead slug and a flash of smoke later, and the nearest guard was on the ground coughing up blood.

As the guards unleashed their snarling dogs, Jun remained cool-headed. In one swift move, he lit one of the animal-repelling torches. One sniff of the torch's smoke sent the dogs scurrying away with tails between their legs.

As Jun reloaded his pistol, something strange happened. The remaining guards stood back, hesitating to take on these fearsome foes who had made short work of their comrades and sent their dogs fleeing. The rebels held their ground, determined to defend their carriage and their cause at all costs.

Yanna seized the moment and let out a fierce battle cry, commanding her fellow rebels to charge ahead with her towards the remaining guard. With her pistol held high in the air, she charged forward, and her comrades followed suit. The guards, gripped with fear, turned tail, and fled for their lives.

Gerrant, feeling victorious, stopped to catch his breath, and let out a boisterous laugh, raising his arms up to the sky in triumph. They had accomplished the impossible - they had taken the Keep! But Jun was not as thrilled, stepping over the bodies of their fallen enemies, some still gasping for their last breaths.

Gerrant noticed Jun's somber mood and went to him, taking the Pyrus sap bag from his belt to reload his weapon. He tried to reassure his comrade, saying, "Relax lad, we've won the day. The gold is ripe for the picking!"

Jun tried to convince himself that driving away the guards was the best outcome for everyone, but still couldn't shake off the unease he felt. While two of their comrades remained outside to keep watch, the rest of the rebels rushed into the Keep, searching for any remaining guards.

It was during this search that Gerrant stumbled upon a massive, gold-painted vault door that was bigger than any he'd ever seen. After some effort and cooperation, they managed to pry it open, revealing a breathtaking sight - piles and piles of glittering gold coins that shone like the sun.

The rebels cheered as they began to stuff their pockets with the gold, with Gerrant even dumping the contents of a nearby wooden chest for his comrades to fill up. But while everyone was busy with the plunder, Jun's attention was drawn to an iron chest hidden deep in the back of the vault. It had a simple padlock on the front, which Jun quickly destroyed with a well-placed shot from his pistol.

Jun winced as the shot rang out in the cramped space, rattling his eardrums. But he was on a mission, and nothing could stand in his way. He pried open the chest, hoping to uncover the treasure he'd been seeking. But what he found inside was a jumble of files, deeds to property, and scrolls.

The rest of the rebels groaned as they heaved the gold-filled chest back to the carriage. Only Gerrant remained as Jun rummaged through the iron chest, growing frustrated with each passing second.

Jun held up the papers to Gerrant, his voice brimming with irritation. "What is all of this? Where is the Capstone?!"

Gerrant's face was as hard as the stone walls surrounding them. He stepped forward without a word, brandishing his pistol and aiming it straight at Jun's head. Jun froze, watching in horror as Gerrant's knife slid towards the striking pin. Just before firing, Gerrant stated, "Sorry mate, but the Capstone isn't here. Never was. Hurmek said you were a means to an end. I know we go way back and all… No hard feelings."

The betrayal hit him like a truck. Jun couldn't even speak. Time seemed to slow down as Gerrant's knife slid forward. But in a split second, Yanna came out of nowhere and tackled Gerrant to the ground, disrupting his aim. The gunshot missed Jun as it punched through the wall. Jun dove in to help Yanna as she grappled with Gerrant. Together, they managed to subdue him.

Yanna moved into a sleeper hold and grabbed Gerrant around the neck. Gerrant gasped for air as she tightened her grip. Slowly Gerrant lost the urge to fight as he attempted to breath and his eyes turned bloodshot.

Gerrant fell to his knees. In his last attempt to speak Gerrant grumbled out the words, "You will… never be Rebel Leader."

Rage left Jun's eyes as he realized the truth. This wasn't Gerrant's plan. It was Hurmek's plan. Gerrant was just following orders. Wiping his half-blinded eyes one more time, Jun replied, "I never wanted it."

Gerrant's unconscious body fell to the ground, but Jun paid him no mind. He was done with this game, done with the betrayals and the backstabbing. All he wanted was to get out of this place and forget it all.

Jun strode over to Yanna, his hand heavy as it landed on her shoulder. "Thank you," he muttered, straining with the weight of the recent events.

Yanna gave him a sarcastic grin. "No problem, I'm sure you'd do the same for me," she replied, wiping away her smile to ask, "What now?"

No answer crossed his lips. To Jun, the rebellion was nothing more than another bad memory. He turned and walked away, numb to all of it. No words could heal the wounds of betrayal.

As Jun passed the carriage loaded with gold and rebels, they urged him to jump aboard so they could flee back to the hideout. But their voices fell on deaf ears. Jun shed his disguise and stepped out of Fort Dives into the town below.

As Jun meandered through the town's narrow streets, he spotted the carriage as it blazed through town, its contents spilling out onto the cobblestones. But Jun didn't care. They could have their rebellion, guns, gold, and everything that came with it.

Stopping only to pick up a single coin, Jun found solace in a local tavern. He sat at the bar and handed the coin to the barkeep, his voice hoarse as he ordered, "Make it a strong one."

As the night wore on, the sounds of soldiers on horseback outside grew louder. The barkeep tried to strike up a conversation, but Jun ignored him, lost in his own thoughts. At this point, all he wanted was a moment of peace.

How had everything gone so wrong? The question echoed in Jun's mind, haunting him as he drowned his sorrows in alcohol.

As Jun savored the bittersweet taste of his drink, his mind drifted away into the soothing apathy. However, his trance was interrupted by a wooden knock on his shoulder. Startled, he spun around only to see Yanna, holding his lute with a little smile. She said softly, "Hey, you dropped this."

In that fleeting moment, Jun hesitated, but accepted the lute without uttering a single word. Laying the instrument on his lap, he took one final gulp of his drink before running his nimble fingers across the strings of the lute, creating a somber tune that echoed through the tavern.

As Jun continued to play, his music stirred up emotions within his audience that they didn't even know existed. The haunting melody that he played was a testament to his raw talent, and people couldn't help but be drawn in by his performance.

Without a word, Yanna settled into a nearby chair and watched Jun with fascination as he wove his musical spell. After all, he was a bard at heart.