Sir? Verso wasn't a knight, so why the title? He looked up to find two men in uniforms standing over him.

  Their outfits were a dark blue, made of some simple, thin material. Maybe people here didn't have to worry about Nevron attacks or, you know, staying alive in general.

  "Yes, sir, are you alright?" Their tone was anything but kind.

  With his keen immortal senses and a lifetime of reading people, Verso could hear the subtext loud and clear: What the hell are you doing here, and why do you look like a disaster?

  Verso chose his words carefully. Whether this was the afterlife or just a very rude new world, he wasn't in the mood for another fight. "I’m... I’m just tired. I was resting on this bench. Is there a problem?"

  "Well," one of the men clicked his tongue, unimpressed. "Is that blood all over you?"

  Verso looked down. Oh, right. Blood. The blood of Nevrons, Renoir, his friends, his colleagues... and Maelle. Was she okay? She wasn't a creation of the Canvas, so her real self was probably fine, but her blood was still there, staining his sleeves. The thought made his stomach churn.

  Verso gave a small, stiff nod. "Yes, it is..."

  "Whose blood is it?"

  Alright, those kinds of questions never ended well. Wherever he was and whoever these guys were, Verso had to play it smart.

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  "Mine," he said simply. "I was attacked by Nevrons."

  "Nevrons?" one of the men asked, squinting. "The hell are Nevrons? Is that some kind of insect?"

  Verso froze. These men didn't even know what the Nevrons were? He was genuinely stunned, his mind momentarily blank as he tried to process their ignorance.

  "You know... the monsters? The ones lurking across the continent and old Lumiere? Those creatures?" As the words left his mouth, the officers' eyebrows climbed higher and higher, nearly disappearing into their hairlines.

  "What on earth are you talking about? Have you been playing too many online games or something?" the taller one asked with a dismissive scoff.

  Online games? Verso hadn't the faintest idea what that meant. Seriously, where on earth was he?

  "Alright, that’s enough. Show me some ID, sir," the shorter one demanded, his patience clearly wearing thin.

  ID? Of course, Verso knew the concept. However, he had discarded every shred of a civilized life the moment he left his home to become an immortal wanderer.

  He had been little more than a ghost for so long that he didn't even possess any identification from Lumiere.

  "I don't have one," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I've been... drifting ever since I left my home. I’ve lost everyone."

  It was the raw truth. Perhaps that was why both men showed a brief, flickering flash of genuine concern. His parents, his sisters, Julie... everyone was gone. As a century’s worth of despair and remorse began to cloud his eyes, the officers seemed to believe him—whether they thought he was suffering from a tragic delusion or a real-life catastrophe.

  "I'm sorry to hear that, sir, but we still need to know how you ended up here covered in blood," the taller one said, his tone softening just a fraction. "Would you please follow us to the station?"

  The station? Like... a train station? Verso hesitated, a flicker of unease rising in his chest. "I haven't done anything wrong. Could you please just leave me be?"

  "No, we at least have to ask you some questions. Stand up, please."

  Their hands moved, resting deliberately on those small metal objects at their waists. Yes, those were undoubtedly guns. Gustave used weapons like those, but these were compact, soulless things. They were deadly, no question about that.

  Verso stood up slowly. He had no desire for another battle... not today, not ever. He was just so, so tired.