Drake was dreaming. He knew that because the bottom half of his body was made of purple mist, and he had two swords stuck on his stomach, but yet felt no pain. He couldn't move either, white threads tying his arms in place.

Shaking his head sluggish at the unrealistic situation, he analyzed his surroundings. In his hazy memory, there was a reason he was dreaming of this. There probably was a reason to the stone giant fighting a hurricane on the background too, but he didn't really care much for them. It was just normal.

Looking around, he took in what else was happening. Fire serpent coiling around a giant skull? Check. An endless waterfall constantly falling inside a tiny black hole? Check. An ever-growing tree on which several million Iferes walked, their shapes changing every few steps? Check. A ginormous thunderstorm raging above all of it? Check. Red streak of lightning darting around, and freezing time for a split-second everywhere it touched? Oh, that was a familiar sight on his dreams. Check!

None of the titanic behemoths seemed to notice the anomaly. Only Drake did, and he tilted his head slightly, a silly smile on his face, when the red lightning hovered in front of him.

"Hi! How are you?"

Obviously - or maybe not so much, considering it was a dream - the lightning didn't answer. It just stood there, at the same time moving and not. Drake waved at it, and, as he did so, woke up.

...

"Hum? What a weird drea... Wait, what did I dream?"

His head was all fuzzy. Drake vaguely remembered dreaming, but he couldn't remember about what it was for his life. It was an uncomfortable sensation, like the memory was a single step away, but he couldn't grab it. After a few seconds of useless thinking, he shrugged. He was sure that if it was important, it would come back to him. However, the small movement caused a sharp pain on his left side and arm. Remembering the situation he was in before getting to the town shown on his map, Drake completely forgot about his dream.

Finally taking a look around, he discovered he was laying on a bed, covered by white sheets. In fact, the whole room he was in was white, from the walls to the tiles on the floor. There were several pieces of equipment and monitors near him, and there was even a blood bag connected to his right arm. A hospital room. He remembered being in a similar situation back in college, after he broke his arm and cracked his head open during a drunk bike race at two in the morning. Good times.

Deciding it was for the best not to rip off the medical equipments attached to him, Drake searched for the buzzer he was sure to have near him, for when patients needed to call a doctor. Sure enough, he found it on the bedside table, right next to some unfamiliar clothes, and a black badge. Picking it up, some hazy memories started to come back to him.

After he had taken care of the Cleaners, Drake had headed deeper into Lapidum, still thinking about distracting any black-coats from going after his companions. He hoped it worked. Using the badge from the leader of the scouts, he took the persona of Sergeant Xeno Maccow, of the Advanced Special Recon and Assassination Unit. As he had expected, that allowed him to get to a city - which he was pretty sure was called 'frost' something - and receive medical attention. Luckily there wasn't anyone in the room when he woke up, or he might have blown his cover with his confused memories.

Even as the doctor, an older man, on his sixties, entered the room, Drake was already getting up, and putting on his new clothes - he supposed they were for him. To his surprise, the medic didn't complain much, and instead helped free him from the blood bag and sensors.

"In a hurry, are we?"

"Yeah, doc. Got some important things to do. How long was I out for?"

"Is that so? Err... A little over a day, give or take a few hours."

The doctor threw him a weird look, but Drake just shrugged it off as distrust for his stollen badge. Cleaners had an unflattering reputation, no matter where.

"Wait a minute, please. I won't try to keep you here, but at least let me check your wounds. You were in a pretty bad condition when you arrived, and, although you are young and strong, they need to be handled with care, or they won't heal properly. Especially your ribs. Life-type skills can only do so much."

Drake knew that. While he getting dressed, he took the chance to look at himself in the mirror. His belly and chest were bruised in all tones and shades of black and purple. It was an ugly sight, really. His arm wasn't much better, the skin around the wounds grey thanks to the death-type energy residues. However, the cuts and teeth marks themselves were closed.

Feeling the eyes of the medic linger a tad too long on his wounded arm, Drake felt even more certain that he should leave soon. Every minute he stayed here increased the chances of him being discovered. All it would take was a call from the commander of the hidden military camp, saying that someone was passing by as a Cleaner, and he would be done for.

"Huhu..."

"Uhm? Did you say something?"

Shaking his head, Drake hid a self-deprecating grin. He was a Menoraz scout, lost deep into Lapidum territory. He couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. When he imagined the first time he would travel to another kingdom, it was in very different circumstances.

"How did you get injured anyway? By your wounds, I can only guess you entered in a scuffle with a pack of Marmadonts."

"My squad discovered a group of scouts from Menoraz. The fight was a mess, and I got separated. This town was a lot closer than any base, so I came here."

That was the explanation Drake had devised while he limped his way to Frost Grass City. It wouldn't hold if the soldiers thought too much about it, but Drake only needed them to believe in it for long enough so he could get away.

While he was droning out, the doctor approached him with a roll of bandages. Drake raised an eyebrow, since it seemed a bit unnecessary. To that, the doctor gave him a hard stare.

"Death-type wound... Not the best kind to have nowadays."

Drake's eyes widened in understanding, and his hand instinctively reached for his pistols, only to find out that they weren't there. The medic took a step back, somewhat frightened by his reaction, but then pushed his glasses up with a half-smile.

"So I was right! Don't worry, I won't tell on you, kid."

Stunned, Drake stared at the doctor. Cautiously taking a step back, he scrutinized the man's face, trying to see if he was telling the truth. It seemed like he was, but he couldn't be too sure.

"You were lucky the army doctor was out, so they brought you here. However, it won't take long before the black-coats catch up to that, the same way I did. Menoraz has death-type Iferes amongst their ranks, but not nearly as many as Lapidum."

"You are playing a dangerous game, doctor. You know I should kill you, right?"

Even though he said that, it was obvious that Drake had no intention of doing so, and the man knew that. He got close to him once again, and started bandaging his arm. Drake couldn't relax, but he let the medic do his job.

"You seen like a good kid. I don't know how you got wounded, or what you did, but a person in need is a person in need, no matter where they come from."

"Thank you..."

"No problem! All righty, this should hold well enough."

After he finished tying up the bandage, the doctor stepped back with a bright smile that made him seem twenty years younger than he actually was. Drake couldn't help but let his guard down, and hesitantly shake the hand that was offered to him.

"I officially consider you well enough to leave hospital grounds, Mister Xeno, or whatever your name is. With your skill set, it shouldn't be hard for you to find an Yscalent. I wish you a speedy recovery, and a good ride back home. You must have family waiting for you."

Drake nodded. He had a grandfather that was sure to be worried, and two companions he still had to get news on. Through the Spirit Contract, he could feel they were still alive, but that was all. Before stepping out of the room, he couldn't help but turn back to face the doctor.

"Thank you again for keeping my little secret. If it's not much, may I ask... Why?"

The old man smiled fondly, but Drake had the impression the grin wasn't for him. Maybe, in the doctor's mind, he represented someone else.

"I have a wife, and we've been together for over thirty years. We lived in Frost Grass City all this time, and yet, whenever there is a war, she can't leave our home without risking being beaten to death, all because she is from Menoraz. She is the sweetest person I know, and wouldn't hurt a Necrotor. But because she is not from Lapidum, does that makes her a monster? I don't think so, just like I don't think you are one. Now go! And good luck."

-----------------------------

"That's it!"

Zhao Qi yell startled her comrades, and one of the black-coats sat up on his bed so fast he hit his head. Groaning and touching the bump that was forming, he complained to her.

"Ouch! For f*ch sake, Qi! That's it what?"

Throwing blankets and the cards she was fiddling with aside, Zhao Qi quickly put on her jacket, and ran out of her quarters under the confused stares of the other soldiers. Jumping on one leg to put on her boots, the black-coat yelled something back.

"The Cleaner ain't no Cleaner! I think... I gotta talk to the lieutenant, be right back!"

"Err... Okay?"

"What Cleaner?"

"Forget her, you know how she can be. She will come back after being scolded for making a fuss outta nothing. Come on, it's your hand, gimme the cards!"

...

Ignorant of the lack of faith her brothers and sisters-in-arms had in her, Zhao Qi was running through corridors, and only stopped when she got to her superior's office. There was a soldier standing guard on the door, but he knew Zhao Qi, so he just knocked on the door for her.

"Come in! Oh, great, it's you... For the fifth time, Zhao Qi, I'm not approving your transfer to..."

"Not about that today, sir! The Cleaner that arrived yesterday, I think he might not be a Cleaner at all! He..."

"Woah, woah! Slow down, okay? What do you mean by that?"

The lieutenant raised his head from the documents he was signing, and looked at Zhao Qi. He was the first one to admit that while the woman might be a little too proactive for her own good, she rarely spouted nonsense without a reason behind it. It's just... It wasn't always a good reason. Still, he wasn't going to just dismiss her without even listening.

"There's been something bugging me about the Cleaner since he got here, sir, but I didn't know what it was. Just now it hit me. The wound in his arm, the black blood... He was injured by a death-type Ifere."

"Uhmm... True. But that doesn't mean much. While Lapidum has a bigger abundance of death-type creatures than other kingdoms, Menoraz also has quite a few."

"I know, I know! But I was just thinking... We guessed he was in some kind of conflict with the blue-coats, but there wasn't news of any near us. So, what if our guess was just partially right?"

"You are saying..."

"Yeah! He might have really been in a battle, but not on the side we were thinking!"

Depe in thought, the lieutenant got up and left his office. Zhao Qi stood there, unsure of what to do, until he beckoned her to follow. Then, he put together two squads of five soldiers each, and told them to come to.

"Where are we going, sir?"

"To put your theory to the test. I already wanted to ask the Cleaner about the circumstances on which he suffered his injuries, but he was still unconscious last time I checked. Roger, call headquarters and say we suspect we found a spy. Inquire about Sergeant Xeno Maccow, and discover if he really exists."

"Got it, sir!"

"All right, the rest of you, with me. You too, Zhao Qi. You deserve to see this through."

Beaming with excitement, the woman ran after him. Any chance of action was better than staying in her bed doing nothing.

"Yes, sir!"