Living in the underground certainly was a dull, dark existence, slithering from place to place, thieving and killing and disrupting along the way. There was no sunlight, no trees or grass, no flowers or native fauna, nothing. Every man only had himself—no one in the underground was to be trusted, lest you wanted to find a knife between your shoulder blades. You’d lived by that rule all your life, spent your miserable, street-rat existence alone as you’d been taught.

However, in this world, there’ll always be someone stronger than you. Always someone you need protecting from, someone you won’t win against—and when the time came for you to be face to face with that person, you suddenly started to regret being alone. You started to wonder if perhaps you could’ve lived, perhaps loved—and, as if on cue—he showed up. Levi.

He beat the hell out of the guy who’d been bothering you without so much as a frown. He was stoic, unbothered, as though this was his daily routine. You always tried not to get caught up in fights in the underground, but you knew that was how most others lived. “Don’t think I did this for you,” He says, almost sneers, as he rummages through the now-unconscious man’s pockets for his wallet. “He just happened to have something I’m in need of.”

He waits for you to get off your ass already and say something, but you don’t. You’re just staring at him. He can’t decide if he should be annoyed or not, so he just scoffs. “What, d’you go into shock or something? You gonna get up?”