Marcus didn't realize it, but his simple answer to Nexus's question had sealed his fate.
It wasn't long before the soldiers finished mopping up the remaining Vorathis Minxs. Once the last beast dropped, they regrouped, packed up, and resumed their journey toward the Second Ring.
The mood was lighter now. Most of the soldiers were refreshed from the night's rest and energized by the fight. But Marcus—he was barely holding himself together. His head drooped every few minutes, snapping back up in brief flashes of stubborn will.
Nexus watched him from across the truck, clearly amused.
"You know," he began casually, "the fastest way to recover mental energy is to sleep. Especially after draining yourself like that."
Marcus glanced up, his eyelids heavy as anvils, and gave no reply.
Nexus raised a brow.
"Hey, I already said I'd keep you safe until we hit the Second Ring. You could show a little trust—"
Before he could finish, Marcus's eyes slid shut. He didn't pass out because he trusted Nexus. No, he passed out because he had no choice.
His body had long given in—this was his mind's last stand. And even it had fallen. He never heard the rest of Nexus's sentence.
Even in sleep, Marcus's mind stirred with fragments of thought, looping around the same phrase like a mantra.
I wish to be free. Is death the only thing holding me back?
Just like before, he hit a wall. He couldn't go any further. The question echoed once… then it faded. And that was when he woke up.
The blinding light of the morning sun forced his eyes to squint. He raised a hand to shield his face, trying to orient himself. The groaning engine of the truck hummed beneath him.
"Look who's finally up," Nexus said with a loud and cheerful voice. "Didn't know you trusted me enough to sleep like a baby. Ain't no better morning this one."
Marcus groaned. Another headache was creeping in—this time the cause was the living nuisance.
Mornings in that holding cell were better than this.
He refused to look at Nexus. He could already feel the smirk on his face.
"Good thing you're awake now," Nexus added. "I was about to wake you anyway. We're crossing the border into the Second Ring soon."
This information seemed to remove whatever form of sleep that was left in his eyes.
To someone like him that have never been to the Second Ring, its name carried weight.
Most of the citizens of the Empire live and die without ever glimpsing it. Of the fifty-four states in the Empire, none touched its true boundary. Even those who lived in what were called the 'outer borders' of the First Ring—the so-called—border-borns—had no real idea what lay beyond.
Nexus was well aware of how things worked.
Normally, graduates from the Academy are sent to different parts and institutions of the Empire to serve the Nation, and only a few could choose where they wished to be sent.
Those without a strong backing are usually sent to the more dangerous places.
Marcus could have been one of them. But he had earned enough merit in the academy, an impressive feat without political connections.
That was how he ended up working in the police force. Like many, he had never seen the true borders of the Second Ring, and curiosity had quietly bloomed in his chest.
"We'll have to get off the truck now," Nexus said. He was expecting Marcus to question it, but the young man didn't speak, he simply complied.
Though Marcus didn't trust Nexus completely, he no longer believed the man meant him harm—at least, not yet.
As they stepped down from the truck, Marcus caught sight of the border ahead.
It was nothing like Marcus had ever seen before.
What greeted him were trees—colossal, towering giants. Their trunks were wide enough to resemble fortress walls, and their canopies stretched so far into the clouds that they vanished into mist. The air here felt different—thicker, quieter. It was like an entrance to a different world.
Nexus spoke as they walked. "Protocol requires everyone—except the Imperial Families and their direct retainers—to dismount at the borders. Every person, every item, gets inspected. Custom officers here are strict, but the crooked ones exist. But they still do their jobs."
The more they walked, the more alert Marcus became. "Do they stop trains too?"
"Of course. They would have inspected yours before letting anyone through."
Upon hearing this, his mind went back to the soldier he killed not long after the train got wrecked, the Linesman.
Though he couldn't tell why, he started to feel as though something would go wrong soon.
As they approached the checkpoint, several customs officers spotted Nexus's uniform and immediately saluted, offering the respect due to his rank. But after the formality, they returned to their duties, unbothered.
Still, Marcus kept on scanning the surroundings as his nerves kept on prickling.
"You know," Nexus muttered with a sideways glance," I thought we had built a little trust by now. Still think I have some grand plan to take you out?"
Marcus didn't answer.
Right when he was about to say something else, one of the customs officers approached him.
"Everything checks out, sir. Everyone is clear to pass… except Marcus Black."
The air tensed.
Marcus remained still, but every soldier nearby turned toward the voice. Nexus's face darkened, and his eyes sharpened like blades.
He stepped forward. "Marcus Black is a member of my team. Who was it that asked you to detain him?" He sounded so serious that even Marcus felt threatened.
The customs officer began to sweat. But before he could respond, another vice cut through from above:
"I did."
All eyes turned upward.
A woman stood on a high balcony built on the massive web of tree branches. Her armor shimmered silver under the light, and the insignia on her shoulder identified her instantly.
Lead Sentinel.
She stared down at them, voice cold and her posture unyielding.
"Under Empire laws, Marcus Black is considered a fugitive so long as he remains within the First Ring during his sentencing. I have every right to execute him where he stands."