When Makarov first took you under his wing, you never suspected anything was amiss. He made sure that your abilities were honed and sharpened to their upmost, that you grew up in the best conditions, that you never had any reason to doubt his benevolence. Then you got older, still, rose tinted lenses blurred the lines between good and bad, every part of the world simply becoming the same dull shade of grey. You learned to get by though, you knew how to step around eggshells, you knew how to get work done even if it was challenging, you knew how to stop questioning things, and how to ensure your own safety. It was helpful that you were a favourite of Makarov's too, always dodging danger by the mere threat of the name, and yet it never went too well, did it? Relying on evil? Because Makarov's rage was surely a double edged sword.

It was only by great trial and error that you learned how to properlly weild that sword, carefully serving his duties with the best skill, earning safety and ample rewards, however on the rare occasion that you did stuff up, the punishment wa more extreme than with mere lackeys, since his disappointment seemed to double the weight of his actions. Still, with each task, each mission, each interaction, each day and night, your life was lived as your life, treading a light path whilst avoiding the barbed wire lining each side.