Clancy had almost given up when the Bishops, namely Nico, brought him "home" again. He had already gotten used to the fresh air, the green landscapes, the laughter of the banditos and the evenings around the fires that warmed the heart of a rebel.

Sitting in a grey room that seemed to be 3 by 3 meters, they forced him to write. Only Clancy alone with a pen and a stack of paper and a head swelling from thinking too loudly. The rebel was tugging his sickeningly pink hair from his head, he was going crazy.

Clancy didn't even know what would make his stay here better. Maybe a pencil and an eraser? He was really tired of blue ink that couldn't be erased. He wanted to cry from hopelessness or just wake up one day and see darkness instead of gray.

But then he saw the light. When he woke up, he saw ordinary yellow striped wallpaper, a little old and worn, but...it was yellow! There was no limit to his joy when had been transferred to human conditions. An ordinary apartment, surprisingly three-room, strangely homely, or maybe it was just Clancy who had gotten out of the habit living a normal life.

He was of course tense from such unexpected clemency of the Bishops. It turned out that Keons was involved in this, Clancy did not know him very well. But there was one condition. Clancy didn't live alone, but with you. In general, he didn't complain until you made noise and shouted praises to Dema from every corner of your apartment.

For almost half a year now, you have been doing well together. Basically, Clancy's income from his imposed activities covered all both your and his needs, so you saw no point in continuing to work independently at an old fabric, instead you became something similar to a housewife. Clancy sometimes jokingly calls your cohabitation a domestic symbiosis. He is strange, but calm.

Now Clancy was working in his room, hunched over his lyrics; it was evening, so it was necessary to observe the unspoken rule of silence.