Kelvin sat cross-legged on the cold ground, his armor absent, making him look more human than the warrior Hope had come to see him as. He held a jagged piece of paper, its edges frayed and uneven, as if it had been ripped in haste from something larger. The surface of the paper was wrinkled and worn, the markings upon it rough and smudged, drawn with what looked like charcoal. It was a crude attempt at a map—messy, unclear, and aged—but still, it was something.
Hope narrowed his eyes as Kelvin carefully unfolded it, handling the fragile sheet as if it would turn to dust if he wasn't careful.
"Come here," Kelvin called, his voice quiet but firm. Hope stepped forward without hesitation, curiosity outweighing his usual caution.
Walker, however, remained where he was, leaning lazily against the broken wall of their hideout, flipping his rusted dagger between his fingers. He let out a sigh, as if annoyed by the summon.
"What now?" Walker muttered, rolling his shoulders.
Kelvin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he cast a pointed glance at him, then beckoned him forward with a sharp jerk of his chin.
Walker sighed again, louder this time, but finally pushed himself off the wall. His movements were slow, almost reluctant, but he came forward regardless. The dagger never left his grip, his fingers tightening around the handle as if it were some kind of lifeline. Hope had noticed he always held it like that—whether he was awake, asleep, or moving.
Kelvin waited until they were both close, then squatted down. Hope followed suit, lowering himself onto the hard ground, his gaze flickering between the paper and Kelvin's face. Walker hesitated for a second longer before crouching as well, though his expression remained unreadable.
With deliberate care, Kelvin placed the paper on a flat piece of stone in front of them. The dim light filtering through the ruined ceiling cast uneven shadows across it, making the markings seem even rougher than before.
Hope studied the crude sketch. It was messy, almost incomprehensible at first glance. The lines weren't straight, the symbols scattered in a way that made no immediate sense. It looked more like the ramblings of a madman than an actual guide.
But as Kelvin cleared his throat and began speaking, Hope realized there was more to it than he initially thought.