chapter 8

Chapter 06 Part 1: A Desperate Plea

Nathaniel's Point of View

The encounter with Sei, one of my own comic characters, felt like a once-in-a-lifetime miracle, leaving me rooted to the spot, words failing me. She departed without a chance for me to speak, and I didn't even muster the courage to chase after her as she vanished into a circle of Eskapa soldiers.

"She's as kind as I imagined," I whispered to myself, a mix of admiration and longing in my voice.

Every trait I'd penned for her—her grace, her compassion—shone through, sparking a flicker of hope. Perhaps she could help me with my predicament. No, I was certain of it. Sei's mercy and inherent kindness toward those in need would surely extend to me. If I could explain my situation, she might guide me to Koko.

Without wasting another moment, I hurried after her, determination fueling my steps. "Wait, Miss Sei!" I called out, my voice echoing through the plaza.

But before I could close the distance, a massive hand seized me from behind, yanking me backward with brute force. I crashed onto the stone ground, the impact jarring my tailbone. "Ow!" I yelped, wincing in pain.

"What's your problem?" I demanded, my voice tinged with shock as I scrambled to my feet.

I turned to face my assailants, and a chill ran down my spine. Three Eskapa soldiers blocked my path, their appearances both intimidating and strange. The hulking figure who'd grabbed me was a towering bull-like being with green skin, his enormous hands still clenched from the effort. To his left stood a woman with brown hair and jet-black skin, her dark eyes piercing and unreadable—I couldn't even guess her race. To his right was another woman with golden hair and cat-like ears, her blue Eskapa cape fluttering slightly, though I couldn't tell if she had a tail like a feline.

Their otherworldly features left me momentarily stunned, unaccustomed as I was to facing such beings. Yet, as members of Eskapa, their mission was to protect the weak, so I tried to quell my fear.

After a tense pause, the woman with black eyes stepped forward, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Forgive us, sir, but you can't approach our queen without permission," she said calmly.

Her soothing tone did little to ease my urgency. Frustration bubbled up, and I raised my voice, unable to hide my impatience. "Permission? Whose permission?" I shot back, rising from the ground. "I mean no harm—I just need Sei's help!" I added, my words tumbling out in a rush.

I wasn't angry, but I knew that if I lost sight of Sei, my chance to seek her aid might slip away forever. Yet, the soldiers remained unmoved, their stances firm.

The cat-eared woman spoke next, her tone sharp. "Many beings like you seek the commander's help," she said coolly. "Know your place, human."

Her piercing gaze and condescending words stung, as if she were belittling me. My intentions were pure, and I believed this was my only recourse—Sei was my best hope in this dire moment.

"What do you mean by that?" I challenged, stepping forward with newfound resolve.

I faced them boldly, insisting they couldn't treat me differently just because I was human. According to Eskapa's own principles, they were bound to assist someone like me, and I had every right to expect their support. Their expressions hardened, clearly displeased with my defiance, but the black-eyed woman responded with composure.

"We have the right to choose whom we help," she explained, her voice steady. "It depends on the problem you bring and how we can assist."

She pressed me to share my troubles, asking how Eskapa might aid me. Yet, despite her question, doubt gnawed at me. Was it safe to confide in them? Telling them my situation couldn't hurt, but how much should I reveal?

Confusion swirled in my mind. Could I truly trust strangers with my story, especially when I knew nothing about them? They were likely minor characters in my comic, their lives a blank slate to me. Should I admit I came from another world, that they were figments of my imagination? They might not believe me—or worse, they could mock me, deem me insane, and lock me away. Even I struggled to believe the absurdity of my predicament.

But I had no choice. Frustrated, I decided they might be trustworthy. As I wrestled with my thoughts, a faint chime sounded from the black-eyed woman's pocket. She retrieved a small, spherical device that hovered with a glowing ring around it—a communication tool, like a phone connecting her to other soldiers.

"Team Leader Ataparag, the commander is calling you for a meeting," a voice crackled through.

The order shifted their focus, and it was clear they no longer cared to hear me out. They prepared to leave, the cat-eared woman adding, "We have more important matters to attend to."

I couldn't fathom why they dismissed me so easily when helping me was their duty. Before they could walk away, I shouted, "Wait a moment!"

My plea halted them, and they turned back. "Please, just listen to me," I begged, desperation creeping into my voice.

At that moment, I pleaded again, my situation dire with no place to stay in this unfamiliar city. I clung to the hope that, as part of Eskapa's mission to aid the helpless, they couldn't abandon me. "My life's at stake here—you can't leave me like this, especially when helping people like me is your duty!" I insisted.

"Priority?" the cat-eared woman echoed, her tone laced with irritation.

Her reaction suggested my words had riled her, and her demeanor grew even more hostile. "You've got a bold tone for someone begging for help," she snapped. "Fine, speak."

She allowed me to explain, though her tone made it clear she had little interest in listening. Still, I seized the chance, hoping they'd at least help me find shelter and food while I was here. "It's a long story how I ended up here, but for now, I have nowhere to stay," I began, my voice unsteady.

She cut me off abruptly. "You've got five seconds to tell us your problem," she barked, her impatience palpable.

I winced at her curtness, feeling dismissed. I'd just mentioned it was a long story, and now she gave me a mere five seconds? It was obvious she didn't take me seriously and might brush off anything I said. Confiding in her about Koko seemed risky—she'd likely scoff and send me packing. Sei remained my only trusted ally.

Despite their haste, the black-eyed woman—called Captain Ataparag by the device—showed a flicker of understanding. "Come on, Nyabu, let him speak. What if he's telling the truth?" she said, her tone softer.

I felt a surge of relief, grateful for this captain's empathy, unlike the harsh Nyabu. But her leniency didn't sit well with Nyabu, who warned Ataparag against being too kind to people like me.

"You can't just give to every human," Nyabu snapped. "They beg for help, and next thing we know, they're gambling away the money we give them."

Without hesitation, she recounted how often Ataparag's generosity had been exploited, especially with money. "It's our duty to help, but we can't be their personal bank whenever they need cash," she added bluntly.

Ataparag shook her head, silenced by Nyabu's words, especially when the latter pointed out she was the one people targeted for her gullibility. Her downcast expression revealed her dismay—her good intentions had backfired.

"You didn't have to say that in front of others," Ataparag muttered, her voice low.

Her reaction showed the truth in Nyabu's words, and she could only bow her head in quiet shame. "I just don't want these beggars taking advantage of your kindness, Leader," Nyabu insisted.

I was taken aback by her bluntness—calling me a beggar. Was that why she'd dismissed me from the start, assuming I was a con artist? "Hey, I'm not a beggar—don't judge me like that!" I protested.

"Do you have money?" she shot back.

"Uh… no," I stammered.

"House? Job?" she pressed.

I floundered, unable to craft a convincing lie. The truth was stark: I had no money, no home, no job. Lying would only make me look more pitiful.

"Tsk, beggar," she muttered, her disdain clear as she sized up my miserable state.

Her low opinion stung, and how could I defend myself when I was a stranger in this world, stripped of everything? "I hate this," I whispered to myself, the weight of my predicament pressing down.