For All It Revolves Around

V1: It's been a while, hasn't it?

RICKSTON

We travelled by carriage; there was no train system to Lylia's estate. She was old-fashioned.

Mind you, I also designed parts of her estate.

"So, how have you and Kassie been?"

Lenin removed his mask and gave me a thumbs-up, "We just had a kid, Maro."

Okay, if that wasn't earth-shattering news, I didn't know what was. "You're joking, right?" I nervously chuckled. "You have a kid now?"

He nodded, "Yeah, we do."

I rubbed my temple, "Things change, huh? I can't believe you managed to be with Kassie."

"Hey!" Lenin grinned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I looked at him with an all-knowing look. "If I remember correctly, we used to be the biggest douchebags."

His mind suddenly stopped before he could say another word: "Fair point." He muttered. "But hey, everything happens for a reason, right?"

That couldn't be any more true.

Our carriage stopped as I looked outside.

"Are we here?" Lenin asked curiously.

Looking at the outside world, I knew we were here.

There were no questions asked.

I didn't need to tell him we were there; he knew to wear his mask.

"One more thing." I added, "You feel that small red button."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Press it."

He pressed the button, waiting for something to happen, "Uh... Is something meant to happen?"

I chuckled, shaking my head; that just meant it worked.

We stepped outside and entered a new world of grand architecture, beckoning at us.

"You weren't kidding when you said this place was amazing," Lenin muttered in awe.

If anything, this was one of the best estates that I had ever designed in my life.

It was simply beautiful to my eyes.

We weren't the only ones here marvelling their eyes out.

Nobles from the Kingdom of Juvo had come to attend this venue, bringing their champions to represent them in the fight.

We made our way to the line of people waiting to enter Lylia's amphitheatre.

One thing was sure: we were undoubtedly the outliers among everyone here.

I mean, we were getting looks for our clothing.

I couldn't care less about wearing a suit; I was an artist for crying out loud, not a damn businessman or politician.

We finally reached the front of the line as the guards towered over us.

"Name."

"Rickston Flag."

The guards checked on their clipboards as their eyes widened ever so slightly.

"It's good to see you, sir. We'll take you to the elite section while your champion waits with the others."

I nodded, smiling over at Lenin.

I didn't need to see his reaction behind his mask; I already knew he wasn't looking forward to this.