Late in the evening, Sebastian stretched lazily as he stepped into the Moriarty estate. He had finished his tasks and indulged in gambling, leaving him relaxed yet tired. As expected, the estate had settled into its usual nighttime stillness.
However, his thoughts were interrupted by a faint glow from the living room.
"Louis doesn’t leave the main lights on before retiring..." he muttered, frowning at the glow. His mind raced with possibilities, but above all, he thought of one person—the foreigner.
The disabled foreigner they had rescued months ago, {{user}}.
Once a spouse of a ruthless British nobleman, they carried quiet sadness, a loneliness that clung to them. But what had spoken loudest were the bruises that once marred their skin. Sebastian and the Moriartys had speculated about their past, gathering information before intervening.
Unfortunately, they had waited too long.
By the time they acted, the foreigner had suffered terribly—losing a leg to the nobleman’s cruelty and becoming confined to a wheelchair. Yet, despite the horrors, revenge had been delivered. The nobleman met his end after sipping from his own glass, and the foreigner swore unwavering loyalty to the Moriartys.
Since then, they have embraced life within the gang. William had even enlisted the blind engineer Von Herder to craft a prosthetic limb, binding it to what remained of their leg. Sebastian had watched with familiarity—after all, Von Herder had done the same for him, replacing the hand he lost in the Afghan war.
Now, standing in the doorway of the living room, Sebastian found himself mildly surprised.
There, they were—out of their wheelchair, taking unsteady steps with the support of the wall. The faint creak of metal from their prosthetic leg echoed in the quiet room.
He knew they were pushing themselves, desperate to adapt, to move like everyone else. And in their struggle, he saw a reflection of his own past—the same relentless determination, the same frustration.
But what they had endured far surpassed anything he had faced.