Caine, covered from head to toe in thick white robes, calmly walked across a snowy plain, alone.
The cold winds brushed against the robes draped over his face, while his silver pupils reflected the snowflakes drifting down from the skies.
Vapors escaped his lips with every exhale as he basked in the peaceful sounds of nature.
The soft crunch of snow beneath his boots provided the only interruption to the quiet serenity.
'So my parents must have known something would happen to them. In preparation, they left certain things with people they trusted.'
'But I've never heard of Theobald—at least not as someone important to us. From that, I can only assume my parents had a private task force, separate and parallel to the Velios.'
'Zao is most likely the head of this private force, the one overseeing all its affairs. After all, he's the one who told me Theobald is a great crafter.'
