Conviction.

… Kylian's abode …

With his red enhanced eyes activated, Heald walked down the basement.

He had searched the entire building but he found nothing. The library, the rooms. He found nothing useful.

Cocoon draped around the corners and the ceilings. The darkness was so thick that with his enhanced vision, he could barely see a meter around him.

He scaled the stairs.

He sighed as his feet touched the floor of the basement.

His eyes wandered around. Stale air. Cold walls. A dusty table and a walnut wood chair. On the walls were maps, routes dotted and lined on it.

Then on the floor were old and rusty iron boxes.

His jaws clenched then he moved to continue his search.

The lock fell. The metal cover removed. Then his hands ransacked the boxes.

Just tools. Cartography tools. Tools of a tentmaker. Tools of a sketcher. Tools of a survivor. Nothing more.

Heald grew agitated.

Will all this search go for nothing? Never.

He gritted his dentition hard. His eyes flashed with resilience as he thrust
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