"I-I don't know," he said, unable to keep his voice from quivering. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face. The panel of judges, however, remained unconvinced.

"Boy, it'd be a nice reminder that we don't have all day. Tell the truth, or the consequences wouldn't work out so well. I'll ask again – who do you work for?"

"I don't – I don't work for anyone! Please believe me! I was curious – I didn't –!"

"Oh, curious, were you, boy?" The deep voice said, in feigned amusement, a voice that sent chills throughout his body. "Happened to be exceptionally talented at hacking too? Another curiosity of yours?"

He couldn't reply. His eyes desperately panned through the group of five in front of him, yet the familiar eyes turned away. Please, tell them. He wanted to scream. Please, tell them I'm innocent.

He didn't. He couldn't. Damn him.

Damn that son of a bitch.

Tears splattered down ungracefully. Frankly, he didn't care.

Even the Gods had turned their backs on him.

And so, the next command wasn't very surprising.

"Kill him."

As the interrogators turned to leave, the door opened to reveal a pair of masked men whose lifeless eyes froze him to the core. In that moment, the meaning of fear became very apparent. Death's claws were hovering over his head, waiting to clamp down. He counted how many minutes he had.

Two? Three?

How many seconds?

He didn't know when he had started crying. His body had gone numb. Every step resonated loudly in his ears. Every sense was amplified. Time had slowed down. He could see the unsheathed blade held casually in one of the man's hands. Like it was an every-day thing as simple as brushing one's teeth. He was going to be one of the nameless ones thrown out. To rot, to feed the rodents and snakes.

But why him?

He wanted to laugh, despite the predicament. He didn't have any moments in his life truly worth remembering, to flash before his vision, did he?

Except, of course, him.

One of the man stood behind him and grasped his shoulders which were shaking uncontrollably. The one holding the blade crouched down to eye-level. He couldn't look. He couldn't speak.

Oh, what would I give to see you. Just once.

The man gently held his chin up. He tightly snapped his eyes shut, breathing in short, laboring gasps.

"Shh…"

A/N: And the story starts off with a bang! Is it Good? Bad? Terrible? This is my first time writing after a long break, so type away. The story is confusing, but everything will become clearer in time being. The pronouns here might be slightly confusing, too, but I used the generic 'He' as I didn't want any names here. Thanks for reading!