Clang... Clang...
A huge line of handcuffed captives trudged along the rough terrain, their bare feet scraping against stone and dirt, while being surrounded on every side by metallic figures.
Each of those armoured beings held a white staff, resembling a police baton, clutched firmly in their cold, mechanical grip.
They walked in perfect unison, a rhythm that felt unnatural—too precise, too perfect.
Among them, one of the metallic figures turned his head ever so slightly as it only rhythm that did not match with the others... Beneath the metallic helmet, a faint frown tugged, 'Lia and Snowflake aren't here… where could they be?' Aether wondered, his thoughts twisting with unease, his chest tightening with a confused expression he barely managed to conceal.
Last night, he had scanned through the long rows of captives... Yet among them, not once did he find… Lia or Snowflake.
