The days seemed to blend into one another, Arthur was getting accustomed to outlaw life. Eating mostly out of date food and repeatedly losing to Erin on the console, although Arthur swore she was cheating. This day was the same as any other, however Sam managed to get live TV going in the recreation area using tinfoil and some sticks. There was a soft static buzz at first, before a lively news reporter shot across the screen.
"HAH, see Simon? I told ya I could do it! That's twenty pound ya owe me now!"
"Son of a bitch... you actually did it!" Simon said as he strolled over to the TV in his nighty and coffee in hand.
"Reports of multiple slave trading centres located across the UK..." The news reporter began, before being swiftly interrupted by Sam.
"Disgusting bastards."
"Too right, makes you realise why we fight Margas in the first place."
"How is Margas connected to these slave traders?" Arthur asked, his question however being met with puzzled gazes and not the answer he sought.
"I suppose you wouldn't know laddy, so I'll explain. These slaves come from the wars fought in the East, prisoners of war I'd imagine. They are brought here for slave trading and the main reason for that is their Souls. They are inspected by Margas employees and any notable or useful Souls are made to fully Extract themselves, essentially, well, you know... and any not so useful Souls are sold as regular slaves to other customers. Oh aye, this is how Margas obtain most of their Soul Fragments they give to their security, sickos..."
Arthur stared at the screen for a while, the more he learned about Margas the more his hatred and resentment deepened. He would kill Brandt. However, he could not let this opportunity go to waste, he knew there would be Margas forces at these slave trading bases and he wanted vengeance.
The night was brisk, a heavy air sat on Arthur's chest as he lay awake on the warehouse floor, his breathing visible in the cold. He slowly, and quietly, stood up from his sleeping bag and exited the warehouse, ensuring he missed the notoriously creaky spot in the floor. In reality, he had no idea how the floor could even BE creaky, it was made of stone... Alas he headed out, pulling over his mask and goggles, for now, he was the Pilot.
Arthur flew high enough over the city that his explosions wouldn't be visible or audible, it was peaceful in the sky, a true reminder that, no matter what happens, life moves on. He had learned from Sam earlier that day that the most notorious of these bases was called Denizens, he softly landed on the building, using Burst at a low enough level that he was able to land using multiple micro-explosions as a brake. The building was short and had very little windows apart from one very small one that lined the top of the wall, he peered over the edge and witnessed inside. Women, children and men all lying in chains and handcuffs, licking their own vomit for what he had to assume was out for necessity. "How long have they been here for?", he thought, just as he was inspecting further, he spotted someone with a large M oe their back... Margas!