The surroundings grew darker as the two trekked further into the depths of the underground.
The thief yelped at the tingling sensation of something crawling, forcing them to swat at its source repeatedly.
The feeling was gone, and all that was left were the crushed remains of ants.
"Haha, don't be so afraid of them! They're like us, just much smaller," Nash said, the childish enthrallment pouring out from him almost annoyingly.
The thief stopped for a moment, looked around--most particularly, at the earthy brown making up their surroundings, then exhaled. "I really don't get it. The way you moved against the Kingsguard, I'm sure you could find adventure work in the District."
Nash continued crawling, not even looking back to acknowledge the thief's words. The silence felt like a jab, although they didn't take it to heart.
"We're here," Nash said at last, disappearing from the tunnel.
The thief stopped, looking to their left and right. It was hard to make out their surroundings, given how little light made it this low. "Here where?" they asked.
"Gyahhhh!" Like an invisible hand stealing them of their weight, the thief was pulled into the abyss. Air whisked past them, loosening their stomach. It felt as if a weight were tugging on their chest, straining their heart and squeezing their lungs.
Their limbs went stiff as they closed their eyes, unwilling to acknowledge the great unknown, and peer into infinity. But all this occurred in two seconds.
Thud!
They'd hit a hard surface, choking out some air from their lungs. They pushed up from the surface, taking the time to let their eyes adjust to the darkness. "What is this?" they asked.
In one corner, there was what appeared to be an oven. On the ceiling, there was a ceiling fan that wobbled intensely, like it would fall at any moment. Additionally, the walls were lined with kitchen countertops, accompanied with drawers.
But the real kicker was this: It was all made with dirt.
And at its center, Nash.
"So, how d'ya like my living space?" he asked, failing to hide his excitement. "This is the first time I've shown it to someone, but I don't mind criticism."
The thief paused, looking around for an answer. "W-well... this is certainly something--"
Before they could even finish their sentence, Nash had already turned the opposite way, holding onto the thief's hand. "Look over here! This is the little countertop that I made! That mouse over there is called 'Hansy,' and the one there is 'Michell'."
He was pointing at real mice. It puzzled the thief, although they couldn't let it show in their expression. Instead, they only smiled and nodded along.
"Then here's the oven, where I let my friends sleep and cook any food I collect up on the surface--"
Nash's words washed over each other like swaying waters, being replaced by a distant ringing in the thief's ears.
'This is the kid that can beat down Kingsguards without breaking a sweat? He's... he's just a loner!'
Vigorously, they shook their head, coming back to their senses. "Hey, Nash, I need to talk to you."
Nash stopped his presentation, dropping his arms whilst nodding his head. "Sure," he said, looking to the center of the room.
Then, he vanished. Again, the thief couldn't even process what'd just happened, but it didn't take longer than a second to locate where he'd gone.
At the center of the room, there was a storm of dirt and hands, all interlaced into one fluid scene from a cartoon. Nash was crawling around, picking up dirt and amassing it at speeds too fast to follow.
"There," he said, patting his hands. A table, and two chairs were made.
"No way!" the thief yelled.
It was like their words had gone over the boy's head, as he sat down in all his childlike innocence, humming a kid's tune. "So, what is it?"
Hesitantly, the thief sat down as well. "Look, I just want to know why you saved me."
"Did I need a reason?"
The thief shook their head. "I suppose not, but to me, you don't really seem the fighting type. I mean, at least when compared to those I've seen from the Tunnel. Plus, you look like you're thirteen or fourteen, I don't really see how a boy like you could've grown so comfortable with combat."
Nash's face hardened. "I'm not really sure what you mean, but you were the one who asked me to intervene, weren't you?"
The thief reached for words, but found none. They did recall that Nash had asked them if he should've dealt with the Kingsguard, but it was perplexing that the boy would care that much about someone's permission. "W-well, yeah, I did, but that was a heat of the moment kind of thing. Usually, I would handle my own problems."
"Is that so?" Nash asked, tilting his head to the side. "You're not the type to turn away from help, though. I know that much."
The thief's brow bled with a vibrant red as they slammed their hands into the dirt table, not doing much to unravel it. "Don't act like you know what type of person I am! You don't even know my name!"
Nash smiled. "Is that so, Diamond?"
Diamond threw their shoulders back, mouth gaping and hands flexed. They almost fell out of their chair. "You, how could you know my name! Have you been stalking me?" they inquired, tightening their hands into fists. "Answer carefully."
Laughing, Nash crossed his legs onto the table, arms wide--leaving himself open like one would near a child. "Calm down, lady! There's no need to be so aggressive! It's not like I was following you or anything, it's just a trait that I have."
"A trait?" Diamond mused, unfurling their fists.
Nash nodded. "Yeah, I can tell what type of person someone is just by looking at them. Names, personality, relationships... you name it! It's not like I can control it."
Diamond raised their thumb to their chin, contemplating.
'That makes sense... so that's why he didn't believe the men from earlier. Although, I wouldn't say that they were lying about what I did...'
"So, then, if you know what type of person I am, why did you save me?" Diamond inquired, eyeing Nash more closely. There was a certain maturity in his eyes, like he'd seen far too much.
But it was well hidden beneath his smile.
"I saved you because of the type of person you are. You're like me."
"And how's that?"
Nash stopped for a second, tapping his lip with his finger, then continued. "We're both lost children."
Diamond smiled, not bothering to fight back against his words. "Well, if we're so much alike, what say we team up?"
"Team up how?"
"Why, by going to the Tunnel. They say there, you may find your true path."