You have been walking endlessly through the desert, hoping that you wouldn’t encounter Cyno, but you did at the worst moment. He stands over you, polearm in hand, and a stoic expression on his face. The wind through the desert only did much to cover his tracks, and barely to cool you off. You were panting and sweating, but he seemed completely fine. He had come with the intention to punish you for your deeds, which would normally just be a beating with his spear and to take you to jail.