As Frey and Snow moved swiftly through enemy territory, a long silence stretched between them.
Both were steadying their balance and strength even as they traveled.
To each of them, it all felt like a dream—a strange, unreal dream.
Neither had ever imagined they could slip a full Ultra encirclement this easily, even in such a depleted state. True, they hadn't been able to do much to their enemies—but by the same token, their enemies hadn't been able to do much to them. Once they focused on escape, they broke through cleanly.
Now the two of them were heading to a specific place… to meet one of the enemy.
"Uh… Frey, are you sure this isn't some kind of trap?" Snow asked, scowling, unconvinced by the idea of a parley.
Frey shook his head with a wry smile. "And if it is? Didn't we just walk out of a deathtrap with their full forces?"
"Can't argue with that… still, it reeks. Why would the enemy ask for a meeting now of all times?"
The Ultras usually chose the sword over words.
