I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

In a room overlooking the bustling docks of Drakoria, Gustavo and Thanatos sat at a weathered wooden table. The salty sea air wafted through the open windows, mingling with the scent of spiced meats and ale.

Gustavo chuckled, shaking his head as he watched Thanatos eagerly eyeing a passing server's tray of steaming dishes. "You never change, do you, old friend? Always the foodie, even after all these years."

As the words left his mouth, a violent cough suddenly overtook Gustavo. His body shook with the force of it, his face reddening as he struggled to catch his breath.

Thanatos's eyes narrowed, his jovial expression replaced by one of concern. "What's wrong, Gustavo? That doesn't sound good at all."

Gustavo waved a dismissive hand, composing himself. "It's nothing," he rasped, clearing his throat. "Just some dust that caught in my throat. This old port city isn't exactly known for its clean air, you know."

Thanatos leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Gustavo's face. "That's the same thing you've been saying for days now. I'm not buying it anymore, my friend. I know you're hiding something from me."

"I assure you, Thanatos, I'm telling the truth," Gustavo insisted, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. "There's nothing to—"

Before he could finish his sentence, another coughing fit seized him. This one was even more violent than the last, doubling Gustavo over. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes watering as the cough wracked his body.

As the fit subsided, Gustavo glanced at his palm, his heart sinking at the sight of blood stains. Quickly, he lowered his hand beneath the table, out of Thanatos's view.

But Thanatos wasn't so easily fooled. His expression hardened as he leaned forward, his voice low and serious.

"Gustavo, I've known you for too long. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you're holding yourself. Something is wrong, and it's more than just a bit of dust. Why won't you tell me what's really going on?"

Just as Thanatos was about to press Gustavo further, the door to the room suddenly burst open with a loud bang. Thanatos was startled by the sudden intrusion. In strode a tall, imposing figure with long dreadlocks: Mordred.

Thanatos's face twisted in annoyance. "For the love of—Mordred! Would it kill you to knock? Or at least open the door like a normal person? You nearly tore it off its hinges!"

Mordred, however, paid Thanatos no mind. His face remained impassive, almost blank, save for the slight frown that seemed permanently etched on his features.

Without so much as a glance in Thanatos's direction, he strode purposefully towards Gustavo.

"I need a word," Mordred said, his voice low and gravelly. It wasn't a request, but a statement of fact.

Gustavo sighed heavily, the weariness in his eyes deepening. He slowly rose from his chair, suppressing another cough. "Thanatos, I'll be back shortly," he said, not meeting his friend's concerned gaze.

As they stepped out of the room, Gustavo turned to Mordred, his face still pale from the earlier coughing fit. "So, why did you summon this meeting, Mordred? What's on your mind?"

Mordred's eyes flashed with barely contained anger. "It's about Brutus and Ratface," he growled, his voice low and tense.

"What about them?" Gustavo asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

Mordred clenched his fists at his sides. "They're still missing. It's been days since they disappeared, and we haven't heard a word. The only rumor floating around is that they might have been arrested by the Enforcers. This doesn't sit well with me, Gustavo."

Gustavo placed a reassuring hand on Mordred's shoulder, which the other man shrugged off. "You shouldn't worry so much about them," Gustavo said calmly. "Brutus and Ratface can take care of themselves. What we should be focusing on is finding Matilda."

At the mention of Matilda's name, Mordred's face contorted with frustration.

He whirled on Gustavo, his voice rising. "Why should I be worried about that hopeless search? We've been looking for days, and there's not a single trace of her. It's like she doesn't even exist in this city!"

Mordred continued his tirade. "I'm starting to wonder if you were even right about Matilda being in Drakoria. What if this is all just a wild goose chase? What if..." He paused, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What if you only brought us here to be caught?"

Gustavo's eyes widened at the accusation. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Mordred, I assure you, I mean well for all of us. I wouldn't lead you into a trap."

"Then explain why we can't find her," Mordred demanded. "Explain why two of our own have vanished without a trace. Explain why it feels like we're walking blindly into danger with every step we take in this cursed city!"

Gustavo sighed heavily, the weight of Mordred's words and his own secrets bearing down on him. "I understand your frustration, Mordred. But we must have faith. Matilda is here, I'm certain of it. And as for Brutus and Ratface, we'll find them too. We just need to be patient and careful."

"Patient?" Mordred cut him off, his voice sharp. "No more patience, Gustavo. I'm giving you two days. Two days, you hear me? If Brutus and Ratface aren't back by then, I'm taking matters into my own hands."

Gustavo's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Mordred stepped closer, his voice low and threatening. "I mean I'll mobilize my men. We'll storm the Enforcers' headquarters ourselves if the rumors are true, get my people out, and then we're heading straight back to Astoria, because I can't leave my men behind. And you can bet I'll be telling Xylar all about how you lied to us."

"What if that's exactly what they want us to do? The Enforcers—they might be trying to lure us out of our hideout so they can catch us," Gustavo said, trying to sound reasonable.

"I don't care what they want. I'm doing it my way," Mordred replied, dismissing Gustavo's concerns.

"No, you can't do that. I won't support it," Gustavo retorted, clearly annoyed.

"Why can't I?" Mordred interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger. "Who do you think the men will obey, Gustavo? You? Or me, their leader? They'll follow my orders, not yours."

Gustavo opened his mouth to argue, but Mordred pressed on. "Two days. That's all you get. If we don't have results by then, I'm out. We'll be on our way back home, with or without your precious Matilda."

Before Gustavo could respond, Mordred turned on his heel and stormed off. As he walked away, he muttered angrily under his breath, kicking at loose stones and debris in his path.

The sound of his boots scuffing against the cobblestones and the clatter of kicked objects echoed in the street.

Gustavo watched him go, his eyebrows furrowing in worry and frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing.

"I need to do the needful," he muttered to himself, the resolve hardening in his voice. "I must tell these men to expand their search. They need to cover more ground, increase their range, and begin searching at all hours, even during the day, infact no more sleep. Matilda is close, I can feel it."

His eyes, sharp and calculating, lifted and caught sight of Mordred walking away.

A flash of anger and frustration flickered across his face. 'That man,' he thought, his mind racing. 'I need to put him in his place, or he'll ruin everything I've planned.'