Before he knew it, Lobe was left alone in the eerily quiet throne room. He's not even sure how long he sat there in disbelief before the silence was broken by the sound of him vomiting, then by the sounds of him sobbing uncontrollably. Many more moments passed as he hyperventilated on the floor, soaking in the morbid scene around him, trying to come to terms with all that had happened.
Eventually, a couple of guards entered the throne room and found Lobe there, covered in blood, snot, and puke, amid the macabre artwork that Mizuki had left behind. From then, Lobe's life began to change at a pace that gave him whiplash.
First, there was the understandable interrogation by his superiors. There was the leader of the army, General Tenzin, who was already present in Rodsgard at the time, and the leader of the navy, Admiral Nemo. In addition, Lobe was eventually interrogated by the three Dukes of the Empire's nobility – Krandel Severus, Rey Palkin, and Torin Ironwill.
Just being the sole survivor, Lobe's future after their interrogation was looking bleak, but having to be the messenger for Mizuki's demands only made things even worse. Of course, Lobe was smart enough to leave out the fact that he was spared because he never drew his sword. Instead, he said it was because Mizuki wanted a witness, and Belmod had stationed him furthest from the carnage.
Still, several of the Empire's higher ups felt that Lobe should be executed on principle, considering his survival a clear sign of cowardice. Others, like the ever-insufferable Lord Krandel Severus, thought that Lobe should be tortured and killed publicly, then his head sent to Mizuki as a message.
Fortunately, General Tenzin, the leader of the Empire's army, thought that was a waste, and reminded everyone that Lobe might be useful as bait or a show of faux compliance. Since the General holds the most power in the Empire now, the others were inclined to defer to his judgement.
Nevertheless, that's not to say that Lobe was completely free from punishment. While he was miraculously spared from life in a prison cell, his career in the military persists only in name, and he knows that the Empire's ruling class has warned the city's guards that Lobe is not allowed to leave. He's effectively a prisoner in Rodsgard until those in power decide to kill him.
Thus, he spends his days drinking in shithole taverns like this one, trying to forget about his miserable situation and the horrifying imagery of carnage that haunts him every time he tries to sleep. He's here for that, and to spread Mizuki's warnings.
Honestly, he's not sure why he even bothered...it's not like Mizuki can kill him more than the Empire is probably already planning to. And yet, the same sense of foreboding in his heart that kept him from unsheathing his sword that day, tells him that Mizuki's threat about destroying cities isn't to be taken lightly.
So, even though it has earned him nothing but ridicule as a madman, and nobody seems to take him seriously, he decided to do as Mizuki asked. It's not much, but the vague sense that he might be saving lives makes him feel like his own won't be snuffed out in vain.
Shaking himself from the depressing memories, Lobe looks down at his empty glass again and shudders...he's entirely too sober for such recollection.
"Barkeep...anu-ther!" (Lobe)
He slurs out his request to the man behind the bar, who shoots him a disdainful look. Lobe feels a surge of annoyance at what he considers an unfair judgement, and prepares to lash out at the man. However, his thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a cold, amused voice.
[My my...I must say, this is a rather pathetic display, Lobe.]
Lobe scowls at the presumptuous yet vaguely familiar voice.
"Hey, fuck you!" (Lobe)
Lobe whips around, expecting to see someone behind him to attribute to the voice, but he sees only open space. What's more, the other people around the tavern are staring at him incredulously, as though he just started shouting out of nowhere. While the intoxicated Lobe tries to sort out the strange observation, he hears the voice once again.
[Sigh...it simply won't do for you to remain in such a pitiful state, Lobe. I need you sharp so you can do the job I have planned for you.]
It's at this moment that Lobe finally realizes what's going on...nobody else can hear the voice, it's just in his head. At the same time, it sounds vaguely...familiar. It doesn't 'sound' like anything, per se, more so that the voice's word choice, cadence, and personality give Lobe a sense of deja vu.
When he finally puts together who the voice reminds him of, Lobe's eyes go wide, and he begins to tremble.
'No...please gods...no, no, no, no, no...not him...'
Before he can say anything, a strange sensation washes over him. In practically an instant, it's as though all the effects of the alcohol he's been consuming all night disappear. The next minute, he's sharp-minded, cold, and...utterly terrified.
[There. I've removed the alcohol from your system, Lobe. Now, come outside so we can chat. I'm a little disappointed that you haven't convinced everyone to take my threats seriously, but I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. Don't keep me waiting...]
As the words in his head seem to confirm his worst fears, he feels equal parts dread and resignation as his bladder threatens to fail him. Almost subconsciously, Lobe begins to sob as tears stream down his face, and his body absentmindedly slides from his stool as his feet slowly drag him towards the tavern's door.
Taking note of his sudden waterworks, several nearby customers start whispering amongst themselves.
"For fuck's sake, just how much has that loser had to drink?"
"Tch...looks like he's finally lost it. The barkeep should have cut him off and banned him from this place much earlier if you ask me."
"Who gives a shit, guys. He's leaving now...good riddance."
Too shaken to care about their heartless comments, Lobe pushes the door open to outside, and he's assaulted by the cold night air and the pale moonlight. He looks around for a few moments in terror, but spots nobody in his vicinity. He feels his body relax slightly, and he begins to chuckle. Slow and nervous at first, then a bit more manically.
"Hehe...heheheh...hahahahahaha!" (Lobe)
'Oh gods, I'm really losing it. Drinking to the point of hearing voices...I need to get a grip.'
However, just as he starts to think he imagined Mizuki's voice in his head, a figure seems to materialize out of thin air next to him. As Lobe focuses on the figure's features, his whole body goes rigid, and his blood runs cold.
In front of him is a young man in a cloak. His face is barely visible under the hood, and he appears about 17 years old. Lobe can see a mocking smirk on the man's face, and a hint of cold amusement in his green eyes.
It's none other than Mizuki.
As he recognizes the young man in front of him, Lobe begins to whimper as his legs buckle and he falls to his knees. His voice comes out as barely a tormented whisper.
"N-no...no...gods. W-why...why are you here? What do you want?" (Lobe)
Hearing the question, Mizuki gives him a briefly puzzled expression. But after a moment, it slowly twists into a huge, wolfish grin. Mizuki lets out a chuckle that would sound carefree and reassuring to the uninformed observer, but to Lobe feels no more pleasant that daggers being slowly dragged up his spine.
Mizuki's eyes flash mischievously.
"What do I want? Well, it's like I said, Lobe. I've got a job for you." (Mizuki)
Lobe feels his sense of foreboding grow stronger.
"A...j-job? What k-kind?" (Lobe)
Mizuki smirks.
"The interesting kind, naturally. You see, Lobe...you're going to arrange a negotiation meeting between me and the Empire's remaining leadership." (Mizuki)
Lobe's eyes go wide in shock. His lips speaking, almost automatically.
"A...meeting? How...when...why?" (Lobe)
Mizuki's wolfish grin returns.
"Here's all you need to know..." (Mizuki)