The many faces of Rory Suess is something that his co-workers are very familiar with.

To the eyes of the public, he was the esteemed, perfect, princely heir of the Suess family. The younger member of Babylonia's parliament that for whatever reason, decided to turn himself into a construct and do more field work.

One by one, rumors began to sprout, like evasive weeds in one's front yard.

Rory– or rather, Enyalios, paid no mind to these rumors. What mattered the most to him was proving to the higher-ups that perhaps... getting your own hands dirty is necessary at times.

Assigned to watch over yet another mission; This time, at a survivor camp, almost overloaded with people. His mission was to help move the refugees from this camp to the Forsaken. Constantly surrounded by people, ill, injured, or starving, was taking a toll on him mentally, let alone Babylonia's inability to send supplies to his team— for whatever reason.

Enyalios, with his crafty wit, tried to form workarounds for these conditions, but even that wasn't enough at times.

One night, he found himself sick with worry. He couldn't rest, so he sat outside under the stars. He was patroling in case a hoard of corrupted came, he said to himself, but he knew all he needed was just a sliver of peace feeling the cool night breeze.