He hadn’t recognized them at first and he still didn’t. Their names and faces didn’t ring any bells, but he hadn’t expected them to. The girl was younger than the boy, her hair a stunning red while the boy had hair as black as Kreig’s own. Going merely by facial structure and mannerisms, Kreig could accept that these two were his siblings.

Seeing them set his heart aflight and alight. After all, there they were! In the flesh! His family, alive and well, and they aren’t even trying to run!

Of course, had they tried to run without giving an appropriate reason why, he might very well have run after them. They were all he had. Though, if they said they wanted to leave, he would waste no time in opening a hole for them, or any other kind of way of escape. He knew in his heart that he should have been more cautious. Deciding right off the bat that these people were to be trusted, that he would protect them with his life… It was foolish. But his faith did dictate the importance of family.

Therefore, he happily forgot all possible questions and devoted himself to these two, in body as in soul. The moment they introduced themselves and the moment he heard their voices, he was happy. Happier than he’d been in all too long.

And now… Now, something was strange. He wasn’t using any skills, although he did have lie-detecting ones, but even then… he could tell that something was being withheld from him.

...Though, since it was his family, it was okay! He’d trust their judgement!

“An officer. I was a peacekeeper myself, once,” Kreig said in reply. His sister. A police officer. To think she’d walk in his footsteps… He’d almost feel honoured if his memories of being an officer weren’t so muddled.

Sam perked up at the mention. “Huh? You were? Wait-, what? When??”

“In the Empire. Had a career of 33 years.” As much as he hated to admit it, his memories were not only fringed at the edges and stained with hatred, but also coloured in a vague tint of nostalgia. It had felt good, after all, working for the Empire. Ordering around his soldiers, fighting in wars for reasons that went no further than the orders from his lord… A simple but luxurious lifestyle.

“Huhhh? Dude, seriously?” Sam’s eyes were as wide as a kid’s. “Tch. Guess you’ve already surpassed m-, wait-, dude, how old are you??”

Unable to muster the ability to answer her, Kreig stared at her, hoping his silence would get her a little quiet, too. It worked. Her lips compressed into a pout while her (their) brother stepped closer to the window, opened his mouth to say something, and was cut off when Darius jerked so hard on his shoulder that he flew back and away from it.

“Keep five feet away from the window at all times,” he said, and George seemed so perfectly taken aback by this that he froze in Darius’ grasp. All the while Kreig tried to understand what had just happened.

“...Yessir,” George said, which made Darius let go of him. “Er-herm, what I was going to say, was-,”

“Five feet away?” What a fantastic reminder of his old days in prison. Of course, beneath the Empire, down in that sealed room, the distance had been five hundred feet rather than five, but before that, before he became a soldier of the Empire, people had to stand five feet from his cell.

Both Sam and George seemed deeply uncomfortable with the straightforward confrontation. “It’s just for security. Or something,” George said, trying to console Kreig.

But Kreig was curious. “What else?” He could remember the ones he’d had before almost too clearly. Don’t feed the prisoner. Don’t give the prisoner anything. Don’t tell the prisoner any news of the outside world. He wasn’t malicious in wanting to know this, merely curious.

“I-, Kreig, are you-? Darius, we’re not allowed to… Are we? I don't…” George seemed deeply conflicted about the whole thing. Despite the pleading looks he gave Darius, the man responded only by shrugging. As long as they didn’t outright breach any of the rules, they were allowed to disclose them. “Um. Okay, uh… We’re not to tell anybody you exist.”

Kreig could understand that, to a certain point. Few people inside and outside the Empire knew where he went after his capture, it only made sense they’d keep that same level of privacy here.

“And-, and we shouldn’t agitate you. Emotionally.” Odder than the last, but Kreig could somewhat understand that as well. Despite what he liked to think at times, he could get emotional pretty quick. “Or cause any… any grief.”

“...?” Kreig glanced up from where he’d been sat, meeting the wide-eyed gaze of George. “Grief?”

And from where Kreig sat, in his little room, looking at those four people on the other side of the glass window, he was given an excellent view of how all four paled significantly. The little frog-like man, who had previously taken down his hands, now raised them again, though they trembled. Not good for casting magic or using spells. Sam, another Fighter by trade, thumbed for any sort of weapon to use. Her fear was a betrayal, but one that Kreig was ready to forgive at any time.

This was it. The thing they had denied him the displeasure of knowing. He could tell at a glance, and yet, he hadn’t meant to pry. He really hadn’t. But now that the chest was laid open before him… Could he really deny his curiosity?

He stood up. Looking down at them, he knew he could get his answers if he just pressed them a little. Grief this and grief that, he hadn’t shed a tear since his years of youth. Whatever they told him, he’d keep it together, and in doing so, he’d prove that he was a brother they could trust. Someone who wouldn’t require them to follow strict rules just to appease. He’d be calm, he’d be relaxed, and they wouldn’t need to fear him as they do now.

Kreig stepped as close to the glass as he could get and bowed down his head so that his eyes were still in frame. The people in there cowered. “Do tell.”

George was only barely able to rip his eyes from Kreig, and once he did so, the person he looked at was Darius. His eyes spoke for him. ‘Is it alright if I tell him?’ ‘what happens if I do?’ So many questions, none that Darius himself could answer. For once, he, too, cowered. His silence urged George to speak. “That-, that is… I was going to tell you. Someday. Right now didn’t feel like the right time, and I didn’t want to upset you, so-,” Stalling for time. “...You promise you won’t get upset? Or-, or do something strange?”

Kreig nodded, victory spreading through his mind like a drug. He knew George would crack. “Of course.”

“...Okay. Um. It… It happened the same day you disappeared. The same day all the portals first started appearing. The day started out normal. You remember, don’t you? Well-, that morning, when you and Sam left for school and I left for college… Mum and dad left for work. And… and they just didn’t return home. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how this must-”

Except he could. Many years ago, George had heard those very same words himself, and he’d taken them in stride. When all was said and done, the one who needed condolences wasn’t himself, but his sister. So he’d taken his time to attend to her, made sure she knew he wasn’t going anywhere like the others were. It relaxed her, made her happy, and it let George focus on anything but his own emotions. Right now, he was watching himself from an outsider’s perspective.

Kreig stood in there, his eyes white and snowy as he stared at a fixed point on the wall. It was impossible to tell if his breathing was quickening or slowing down.

He just stood there. “That isn’t true,” he said. “It isn’t.”

Sam bit her lip. “Look, Kreig, I’m sorry, but-,”

Kreig took another step towards them, putting him so close to the window between them that his face and chest was pressed up against it. Then, he took another, causing the three-inch-thick glass to crack and whine as he merely walked through it, the metal Dragonheart walls crumbling before his feet. He simply walked through the wall, as if it hadn’t even been there at all. George gave a panicked shriek, a perfectly fitting response, while Sam and Frank prepared for some sort of physical confrontation. Darius wondered where’d he’d gone wrong and if he’d ever see his wife again.

A mere second, and the wall that separated the siblings had been torn down fully. A mere second, and Kreig had broken every promise he had made to them.

He stood in front of them, his overall dusty with glass and metal.