The Lost and The Seekers - I

In the luxurious drawing-room, Ansel toyed with a black feather, while Marlina sat opposite him, her head bowed as she recorded something.

"Margarate," Ansel propped his chin up with one hand, gazing at the earnest expression on Marlina's face, "What are your thoughts on Mr. Milo?"

The girl's pen paused. She lifted her head, a contemplative look crossing her features, and after a moment's reflection, she replied, "Judging by the documents and materials in his office, Mr. Milo has never truly cared for the 'prosperity' of Dispute Fortress. As long as he could bask in the adoration of thousands, akin to an emperor, whether it was Dispute Fortress or Peace Fortress, it made no difference to him."

"He treats the populace as tools. No… not tools, but assets, possessions... objects to delight himself."

Marlina's thoughts drifted to the day Ansel first unveiled the harsh truths of this world, allowing her mind and spirit to transform amidst despair.