Breakthrough

After the research in the library was completed, René had heard word of a Military Policeman who had good influence on the King. He'd have to ask permission from both the head of Military Police and the King himself. After all, cannons didn't finance themselves. However, these were no ordinary cannons. If he had calculated right, the rounds would be able to puncture through the titan's chest, allowing cadets and soldiers more time to get to the titans and kill them. Abnormals would be a different story, since most of them are faster than they look. Normal titans however, slow down slightly when regenerating. If there was even a 10% chance that this might make killing easier for the soldiers, especially in crowded situations, then he at least had to try his luck for his project.

He had already gotten permission from Commander Erwin, but hadn't been able to see Commander Pixis about it yet. And then there was the Military Police... René didn't know how to approach them yet, but he knew it would take time, effort, and patience. However, there was a renowned young officer not much older than René himself that had a certain favor with the said Commander. In addition to being a rather good detective and a Military Policeman himself, he had to be the best person to go to for directions. Or at the very least René could try to plead for him to put in a proposal for him.

By the time he reached the small town of Yarckel, located within Wall Sina, it was sundown. The meadows and busy city streets of the town were stained in the oranges and red of the setting sun. He would have to find a respectable inn and search for the man in the morning. Roaming the somewhat active cobbled streets of the city, he stumbled across a good inn. It smelled of coffee, with the sweet smell of baking bread mixed in. He stumbled inside, eyes adjusting to the brightly lit lobby. "Hello!" He picked his head up, looking towards the kind receptionist that stood at a desk. "How may I help you today?" She continued, looking at René curiously. "Oh uh.... do you have room for one," he asked, trying to not sound intimidating. "She looked over the worn pages of a book that was falling apart for a moment. "We do. Please follow me" She led him up creaky stairs and he remarked on how the weather was.

"Anyway, please do enjoy your stay!" She was about to leave when René remembered something. "Oh, by the way, if you see someone can you leave a message for me?" She nodded. "Just leave a name" The message is for an 'Alan Kathlewande.' Tell him that I'd like to speak to him if possible." "And who might this be from?" "Tell him René Alfons."

Alan huddled over his dimly-lit desk, grasping at his hair in frustration. He grabbed the half-written letter in front of him, and crumpled it up into a ball, which he then tossed into the nearly full bin behind him. This was his 4th attempt at writing this specific letter, but whenever he decided on words to write, uncertainty and fear clouded his mind and made him revoke his statements. He, himself, found it so hard to put something so irrational, so very primal into words. And yet, he could feel it, like never before...
Shadowed.

Alan couldn't imagine why, but ever since his last mission, he has felt nothing short of paranoid. He felt like something was off, like he was being followed everywhere he went, like he couldn't trust anyone...
Even his tea couldn't help him clear his mind. He grasped the fragile cup with shaky hands, and slowly raised the steaming liquid to his lips. His eyes were closed in concentration, attempting to deconstruct his complex feelings and emotions.
Thinking... thinking... thinking...

Alan must've done that for a while. Perhaps, he dozed off, because by the time he opened his eyes again, he saw the candles were long gone, the tea was cold and that the pale morning sunlight slid through the curtains behind him, lighting the room. The young Military Police captain grasped his face and massaged its features. He then quickly downed the rest of his tea, and rose slowly from his table. He wasn't feeling rested at all, but he was still on edge, and tense all over.

By the time he finished wording his letter, Alan heard a familiar knock on his office's door. "Come in!" he spoke, quickly brushing his hair back and signing his wax seal into his letter.
A stout, muscular man with a feathered had entered his room. His mustache rose around his face in an almost comical way. This was Alan's faithful courier, Guillard.
The deliveryman bowed stiffly before speaking. His voice was rasp, and his words were to the point.
"Captain. I have 3 invitations for you regarding public events and parties from the royals, a statistics request from the commander, a letter from your family, and... a message."
"Oh?" Alan's brow furrowed. It was unconventional for the people of the inner city to deliver messages through couriers without the use of ink and quill, and they were pretty much the only people who could afford to use couriers to deliver messages. Alan's fear and suspicion burned deep inside him, but his curiosity peaked. Perhaps this could be the guidance he was looking for.
Alan shook his head and smiled politely.
"Very well. What is the message about?"
"Some bloke called Rene Alfons from Yackel requests a meeting. Word says he's a soldier. Should I return a message?"
Alan comptemplated his options. While there was a fair chance this Rene was shady, he doubted he had ill intentions, otherwise, letting Alan know of his existence is an unwise move. Perhaps Rene Alfons is a pseudo-name for somebody he knows, but even then, there isn't anyone he wouldn't want to meet. Alan figured the best course of action would be to catch this person by surprise, meet on his own terms. He shouldn't wait for them to come to him - he will come to them.

"No need, sir." Alan finally replied, standing up and dusting his jacket "I will come meet this person myself."
Alan grabbed the rest of the letters from Guilliard, and handed him a golden coin in return for his services. From there, he left to catch the first carriage he could find and began his way to Yarckel.
Alan was glad he could take his mind off his despair for a while, and used the ride to read the different letters he received. The invitations, of course, were the same common trash those of the Inner District loved to spout. Art galleries and banquets and dances. Alan had no time for these things, and even if he did, he doubted he would spend it attending events like that. The request from Commander Dok was fairly standard - he wanted the standard report on his endeavor tracking the Red Titan. Because the matter was top secret, it was heavily coded. Alan enjoyed decrypting and encrypting his words.
As for the final letter, from his sister, Alan couldn't help but smile. It was good to know that thanks to his handouts, his sister's business has become mostly legal, and she could even afford a break once in a while.

Finally, he arrived in the familiar town. He rode through the cobblestone roads, admiring the architecture and wondering what stranger awaited him.
He hoped this wouldn't be an assassination attempt or something like that.
Only time will tell.

That night, René sat at the small desk in his room. He hadn’t gotten any sleep, over nerves so he decided to look over his research in his notebook. So far, the walls all have mounted cannons that are hard to move and whose shots are unreliable from time to time. None of the shots can kill a titan, and the shells high explosive rate, make them have low accuracy. The grapeshot however has better accuracy, but was unlethal. René had decided that maybe if they combined the two and created a new grenade, then maybe it would be enough to stun a titan in order to evacuate people faster or to maybe, just maybe kill titans with cannon shots. He also had an idea for a combination of a detonation shell that spun at a high velocity and that upon impact, or maybe a few seconds earlier, the outer shell would fall off, revealing a type of spinning blade. If the only way to kill a titan was to slice open a certain part of the neck, then this might be a way to do it. Of course, there had been some incidents in the past where the titans would grab lines, so maybe attaching two knives together with a string might not be a good idea.

To try and keep himself awake he ordered a cup of tea from the friendly front desk lady from earlier. She was quite kind about the whole ordeal and still wondered about the weather. Such is the life of simple folk, controlled by the atmosphere and limited to inside the walls. But simple isn’t always that bad. At least they didn’t have to try and explain why the military needed funding from the king to improve their weapons. He returned to his room, placing the mug of tea in front of his drafts so he wouldn’t spill it on the plans he was about to draft.

In the research that he had conducted, he had found out that if you combined the lightweight dexterity of the grapeshot round with the explosiveness of the shells used in the cannons, it would be not only accurate but would most likely keep a titan out of the running for at least 10 or 15 seconds. 15 seconds was generous, and of course he hadn’t even built a test round yet alone tested it against a titan. You never really knew until you actually did something. He brushed off the sheet of paper before him and grabbed a piece of charcoal. He began to sketch, drawing first both the grapeshot and the shell individually. Then he started marking out key elements of both. The grapeshots had only one space for gunpowder, making them more aerodynamic, but the shells had more individual spaces for gunpowder, allowing more to be stocked inside them and allow it to have a bigger punch. He tapped his pencil against his chin, eyes narrowed in thought and brow scrunched up with concentration. If he only made a maximum of… 4 spaces for holding gunpowder than the new grapeshot/shell hybrid could be more aerodynamic while carrying a punch.

He has fallen asleep on his plans from staying up trying to finish them. He removed the glasses from his face and crawled into bed. Nothing but to wait until this Alan Kathawalde guy pulled through. He hoped that he would… the guy was probably bugged by commoners everyday. René wondered if this Alan character had even received his message yet. Probably not, but even if he had to wait forever to meet the guy he would. This was how important his plans were. They had to get through. If they even had 1% of working. If they even had a chance.

The next morning, he woke up early. He felt as though the streets of Yarckel were calling him. The daytime Yarckel was a far cry from night time Yarckel. It was finally quiet. René could breathe a sigh of relief. He needn’t worry with the nonsense of people trying to steal his meager pocket money. Wandering the sunlit grey cobbles of the city, he came across a beautiful tree, it’s branches spreading out and skyward. He smiled, and a bird that alighted on the branch yelled at him. He passed the tree, wishing to be as sturdy as it. At around noon, his belly growled and he started to look for something to eat. Maybe he’d stumble across someone he knew while looking for it. A restaurant was perched at a corner, overlooking the clear river that ran to the north side of the building. Waltzing inside he asked for a bite to eat, and was seated promptly at a barstool. There were colorful bottles and glasses assembled delicately on a ledge of wood behind an ominous looking man who was twice the width of René. He gulped, hoping no trouble would be caused for him to be thrown out of this fine local establishment.

Despite already having a few years under his belt in the Inner Districts, Alan still couldn't help but admire the architecture and neatness of it. Every piece had a place, skillfully placed among the rest. No place for error, no place for impurity.
However, the humans inhabiting this pretty city were more filthy than the bricks under their feet. They could slither through the cracks, spread their vile cruelty and evil like the disease it is.

And still, the world goes on. Alan could dwell on the corruption and the injustice all he'd like, but at the end of the day it was still a nice day and the streets looked pretty. Alan sighed and continued walking. It was not long before he was at his destination, an inn Guilliard had pointed him to.
He entered and squinted his eyes to adjust to the bright colours. He breathed in the smell of pastries, and exhaled in satisfaction. However, he did not dwell too long. He headed inside in long, purposeful strides, directly to the innkeeper.
The older woman couldn't help but tense up when the Military Policeman approached. He had that aura about him, the sort of demeanor that made you feel guilty even if you weren't.
"Hello," Alan greeted the innkeeper with a polite smile as he adjusted his glasses "I heard a man by the name of Rene Alfons has been looking for me?"
It took the poor lady a moment to remember. She hadn't expected him to arrive so soon. It was almost supernatural.
"Oh. Yea, he left earlier this morning. Said he was just going for a stroll through the town."
Alan glared at her for a moment. He then promptly asked her for details concerning the appearance and identity of Rene. After receiving the information, he finally replied "Alright. Thank you for your trouble." and turned to leave. The innkeeper gave a small sigh of relief.

It hadn't taken the detective long to find his target. Alan simply pretended to stroll just like Rene must have, and it was inevitable that he'd find the man.
He smiled as he strolled. The calm river reflected the blue sky at him, and the air was fresh and clean. He turned and saw a restaurant on the street corner. Deciding to enter because he was growing hungry, he immediately noticed the person sitting at the bar stool. He seemed to match the details given to Alan to a tee. He was certain he had found his target.

Wordlessly, Alan walked across the restaurant, and sat next to the mysterious soldier.
Alan raised his hand to signal the barkeeper to bring a menu, not looking directly at Rene. He began speaking softly.
"You know, it is highly unusual for someone to seek conversation with me and not come to my office."
Alan gazed at Rene's face.
"And still, here I am. I'd introduce myself, but you probably already know who I am, and you... Are familiar, Rene. Have we met before?"
Alan paused and waited for a reply, all too aware of the other people in the restaurant. He couldn't shake the feeling he was being followed, and he hated it.
The MP captain tapped his foot on the floor, nervously.

“You know, it is highly unusual for someone to seek conversation with me and not come to my office.” The words broke the silence around the bar like shattering glass in the dead of night. He couldn’t help but to break out in a small sweat. Glancing to his left he noticed the black haired and green eyed person looking at him through spectacles. Alan Katlewande. “And still, here I am. I’d introduce myself, but you probably already know who I am, and you… are familiar, René. Have we met before?” René spun his chair towards the Military Policeman as he tapped his foot on the floor. “We unfortunately haven’t had the chance to meet yet, Alan.” He stuck out his hand to the younger Captain, who stared at it for a moment almost as if it was riddled with spikes or poison before taking it and grasping it tightly before releasing it. “I would’ve come to your office, however I knew no idea of its location and thought it unprofessional to even try and visit you at your quarters. Besides, I am all too aware of how I might’ve been turned away at any moment by your personal guards or whoever.” He turned back to his plate of salmon freshly caught is Yarckel. He had noticed the menu sitting quietly in front of Alan. “Are you actually thinking of ordering something from this restaurant? I’ll treat you then, since I’m about to ask you of a rather big favor. He saw the head of the Military Policeman swivel towards him. “Of course these matters are all classified and so I’ll have to enlighten you of them elsewhere. Eat first. I trust your travels were well? I honestly didn’t expect you to find me so fast!” René chuckled and Alan told the barkeep what he wanted.

Around one o’clock, the two headed back towards René’s hotel room to go over the details.
Alan seemed on edge the entire time, head whipping around left and right. René shrugged it off. In a sleepy town like Yarckel you only had to keep on your toes at night. As he opened the wooden door to the room, he invited Alan in, who seemed sceptical of it at first. “Sit anywhere. Anyway, I should probably properly introduce myself now. I am indeed René Alfons, member of the Survey Corps. You see, the favor that I have to ask of you concerns the currentness of the defenses on the walls. The cannons.” He looked over to make sure that the captain was listening. He was intently, but had refused to sit. “Anyway, last night I drew out a plan if you want to come take a look.” He grabbed the paper and unrolled it so Alan could see what he had planned. “Our defenses are highly outdated, only managing to work around 60% of the times they are used. We have two artillery shots within our use. The grapeshot and the shell.” He reached over and pointed the two out. “The grapeshot is aerodynamic and works well, hitting titan around 95-100% of the time. However they have no firepower to them. The shell has tons of firepower but no accuracy at all.” He saw the Captain looking at the sketches and nodding thoughtfully. “We need to improve our firepower. With less and less people joining the Trainee Corps, and more and more soldiers dying everyday with every mission we’re eventually going to be overrun. I know that this might not matter to you, especially because you’re a military policeman… but I need to get the permission of all the Commanders of the branches and the King himself for funding. I don’t even know if this will work yet…” He sat down heavily in the chair by the desk. “So what I’m saying is… will you help me? I’ll need to talk to the Commander of the Military Police Nile Dok and The General who oversees all the branches Darius Zackly before I can even talk to the King. I’m not even sure if it needs to go to the King at this moment but it might. What do you think about this? Is this even worth it to win the war? To eradicate the titans?” He looked over at the captain who was scrutinizing his plans thoughtfully.

Alan eyed Rene as he responded to his question. He was taller and older than Alan, but his demeanor was not intimidating beyond that. Alan could see genuine attention in his eyes, almost as if nothing else mattered but the meeting they were currently having. By now, Alan was on the fence about Rene's intentions. He seemed innocent enough, but this said nothing about his allegiance nor his intentions.
When Rene finally offered his shake, Alan stared at the mysterious man's hand solemnly. This was the turning point.
Rene's speech pattern was calculated, and the freckled man seemed rather intelligent. This was either an interesting person or a trained deceiver, and so Alan decided he would need to play his part regardless.

Alan found it hard to contain his curiosity and surprise when Rene offered him a meal and said their conversation must be private. Alan's suspicion immediately peaked its ugly head. It was practically unheard of for a Scout to pay for the meal of an MP, even as a courteous act. It was no secret they were payed way worse, not to mention the beef between the two factions was infamous.
The young Military Policeman came to the conclusion the person before him was a unique fellow, regardless of who they were or what they were trying to achieve.
Still, Alan would never let someone pay for his own meal. He smiled a sympathetic smile and laid a hand across the counter.
"As much as I appreciate the gesture, I think I rather pay for myself, thank you very much. But yes, I would like to order. I think the scrambled eggs would do just fine."



The walk to Rene's room would have been pleasant, were it not for the rising suspicion swelling inside Alan's mind. The path they walked, which only a few minutes ago Alan greeted with admiration, felt too perfect, as if it was faked somehow. He must've been an idiot to come here in the first place. The captain had plenty of enemies who'd want him dead. Perhaps Severin had come to his senses, and finally decided to eradicate the nuisance who'd been tracking him? Or was it the mysterious man from The Underground City, who's partners Alan has arrested? Could it be Nile Dok, who wants to 'relieve' him of his duty in an indirect way?
Behind every corner, Alan saw shadows. For the small chance this was no conspiracy of any sort, he hoped that Rene wouldn't notice his odd and erratic behavior. He was often formal, but he was usually calm and pleasant, not eerie and cold like this.

Alan looked at the back of Rene's reddish-brown hair, which was emphasized by the sun loooming above. What would bring a man such as him and Alan together? He only hoped he had it in him to anticipate any nefarious plot, even defend himself if needed. He felt the cool of the dagger hidden in his boot. He hoped he would not need to reveal it today.

After what felt like forever,  the two soldiers finally arrived back at the inn. As they walked up the stairs, Alan could practically feel the inkeeper's gaze upon his back. It made him shudder slightly.
Rene unlocked the wooden door, and stepped inside. It seemed like any ordinary inn room. No traps, no corpses, just a bed and a closet and a desk with notes scattered on it.
Alan grudgingly and silently followed, making sure to stand as far away as possible from the closet, lest some assailant would decide to jump out of there. Despite Rene's hospitality, Alan decided to lean on the wall by the window. If the need arises, he can jump out. The bushes and grass below would soften the fall just enough.
The room was silent. Alan looked at Rene as he was collecting his thoughts. The anticipation was eating away at him like fire devouring paper.
And then, Rene began to explain.

The longer Rene went on, the more Alan relaxed. It seemed he was the real deal, and did not mean harm in any way. This could've just been an extraordinarily convincing act, but the sceptical captain was finally buying it.
Alan even smiled when Rene showed him his sketches. He reminded him of the Scout mechanic prodigy Mitsuo Shimura, who was ever so excited about his plans to improve the arsenal of humanity.

The argument Rene was making was logical. The policeman even came to that conclusion before the scout finished his talk. And yet, Alan grimaced at the upcoming request.
He, too, saw the huge importance of reducing needless casualties. Alan had always preffered a defensive methodology. As long as you could refrain from taking damage, your mind was always clear to make your next move.
Still, even now he could picture in his mind Commander Dok rolling his eyes, were he to hear the request.
'Our scarce military budget is used to improve our trainee corps, and to supply our current soldiers. You should know all too well that the crown cannot finance every good little soul, Katlewande.' he would say.
Convincing the crown itself would actually be easier. Alan had never personally met the king, but from tales he has heard, the leader of humanity was like a child, easily investing in flashy ideas and things that would make him seem more grand.
Alan was at a crossroad. He could be bluntly honest with the poor scout and tell him his chances of convincing the MP commander, even with Alan's own endorsement, were practically none. He could also be supportive and small-minded, thanking Rene for his efforts and promising to bring the idea to the higher-ups.
Alan closed his eyes in concentration. He was quite aware that his words could have great impact, even deciding the fate of some soldiers on the field of battle.
In the end, this is what convinced Alan. He wasn't ready to sit by and let politics and ranks detter him from doing the right thing, which was saving lives. Furthermore, Alan was quite certain a man like Rene was ready for the truth.
Alan opened his eyes, two stormclouds brewing under his delicate glasses.

"Let me begin by giving you some hard numbers. So far, there have been a little under 60 expeditions beyond the walls. Putting the... 'Unfortunate' events of the breach aside, cannons have only proven valuable for these expeditions. Namely - clearing the area of titans before the expedition begins, and stopping any titans upon their return. Even if you take an extremely harsh estimate that in every mission, 5 people are in mortal danger that only cannons may save, you're talking about saving roughly 30% more people than before. That's one person per operation. Less than 60 people over the course of scout expeditions. We enlist more people than that in one year."
Alan paused "And yet, as long as we can save even a bit more of humanity, we are doing the right thing. I fully support this idea of yours. I will help in whatever way I can."
Alan smiled at Rene's response, then briskly continued.
"I will begin by try to convince Nile Dok. Not gonna lie, that's going to be rather hard, but I will do my best. Something that could help us is if you contact Shimura works. They're mechanics that mostly deal with military equipment. Show them your sketches, and they can give you a rough estimate of how hard it would be to create a shot like the one you describe, and also how costly it would be. If these numbers are well and good, we can use them to make our offer to Nile that much more enticing."

Alan sighed, finally allowing himself to sit down. He looked up at his fellow soldier, finally feeling comfortable around him.
"You've got an excellent mind of your shoulders. The scouts are lucky they got someone like you. Then again, your kind don't tend to be incompetent..." the MP's voice trailed off, as he tried to count all thr Policemen he knew that did more good than ill.

René’s world screeched to a halt. Alan’s words echoed around the room, the darkness only seeming to make them louder. “Shimura works, huh?” He pondered over what to say next. What to plan. “If you’re going to speak to Nile Dok, I think I should come along with you, if that’s ok. But we should only speak to him after I try Shimura Works. If their estimates are what you say they are then that’ll back up our plans more…..” He paused remembering Alan’s last words. “And thank you for letting me know about that,” he beamed. “It’s not often that I get to hear that everyday.”


He stood, placing his hands on his hips and trying to focus on what to do. If Nile Dok disagreed… then the project was over. He looked over at Alan who was watching him with interest. “I know I called you here on such short notice… so if there is anything that’s of top importance that you have to attend to, you should do that. I’m not entirely sure where Shimura Works is, though it’s probably not here.” He took a deep breath and strolled over to his desk to tidy up his plans a bit. “So if you’re free… do you think you could show me the way to Shimura Works so I could meet with them? That or just tell me where they are, it might take me a while but I’m sure I’ll find them eventually.”

René was in a tricky situation, he was stuck between a rock and hard place with nothing around but a sliver of hope. “Concerning Nile Dok… I know he’s a busy man, running a whole branch of the military and that. But do you think it unheard of for anyone to just go and meet him? It might be a tad risky though, just waltzing into MP headquarters with no warning.” He laughed at the end, wondering if going on trial wasn’t as bad as it seemed. “I apologize again for calling you out here… I didn’t really know where exactly to contact you. If you want, you can leave if you must. It’s getting late and I’m sure we both need to be places tomorrow.” Alan looked deep in thought, like he was trying to make the best decision. René waited for an answer for what seemed like ages before the MP stood up and looked him in the eyes and began to explain

Alan looked at Rene calmly as he spoke. He had a way with trailing off, similarly enough to Alan himself. The young captain found that funny. When Rene suggested he should join Alan when meeting Nile, the Military Policeman smiled sadly. He knew Nile Dok cared too much for mannerisms and courtesies. If confronted with Rene himself, he would never truly speak his mind. He would dismiss Rene with twisting, illusive words, much like Alan considered doing only a moment ago.
That mustn't happen. Only if they meet alone will Alan be able to convince Nile of the genuine importance of Rene's endeavor.

Alan patiently waited for Rene to finish listing off his thoughts and requests, before promptly answering. He hoped he was not putting too much pressure on his newfound ally with all the disheartening truths of the matter.
"Unfortunately, you are right. It is getting late, and I am an incredibly busy man. I will not be able to show you the way to Shimura Works, nor will I be able to bring you to meet Commander Dok. He does not take well to unprompted encounters, neither does he take well to scouts... in general."
Alan stood and paced for a bit, straightening his coat. "I can tell you, however, that Shimura Works can be found in Stohess. You might not find Mitsuo at the shop, but I'm sure there'll be someone there, or a sign, or something. Just ask anybody around for directions. They're real famous."
Alan scribbled on the notes he was handed by Rene, and then handed the notes back to the scout.
"This is my office's address. Any letter you send here will be delivered to me by hand." he looked Rene in the eyes, a bit uncertain "Please do go to Shimura Works, and then report on the results to me. I will then talk to Commander Dok, and do my best to convince him.... Alright?"
Alan waited for a response, rather eager to head home. He felt uneasy leaving his work undone. He was so close to hitting his breakthrough.. so close.

Yet again… more bad news. “Unfortunately, you are right. It is getting late, and I am an incredibly busy man. I will not be able to show you the way to Shimura Works, nor will I be able to bring you to meet Commander Dok. He does not take well to unprompted encounters, neither does he take well to scouts… in general.” René tsked, his arms crossed. Figures that the Captain of the Military Police wouldn’t meet with him. Nothing he could do about that though. He watched Alan cross the room, wearing the wooden floor down with his pacing, his hands fiddling with his coat. The captain continued, “I can tell you, however, that Shimura Works can be found in Stohess. You might not find Mitsuo at the shop, but I’m sure there’ll be someone there, or a sign, or something. Just ask anybody around for directions. They’re real famous.” René smiled at that. Stohess was a center district city, bustling with activity and full of sights, sounds, and things to do. It was also a center of crime activity, because of all the sights, sounds, and things to do.

The only thing that still bothered René was Nile Dok. The whole situation with him was confusing. Guess he would have to just trust Alan on that one. He was zoning out, focused too far ahead in the future when he heard the scribbling of notes in front of him. His gaze was drawn to the hand of the MP holding out a note to him. "This is my office's address. Any letter you send here will be delivered to me by hand." he looked Rene in the eyes, a bit uncertain "Please do go to Shimura Works, and then report on the results to me. I will then talk to Commander Dok, and do my best to convince him.... Alright?" The captain’s words shattered his concentration and he struggled for the right words to say. His hand closed around the note before his mouth formed the words and his mouth was left agape. He probably looked stupid. After the note was securely in his possession, he turned, slightly embarrassed. “Thank you for the address. I’ll be sure to write you!” His hand scruffed the back of his head. “I wish you the best of luck with Dok. I hope things’ll turn out alright!” He laughed, completely unsure of what was going to happen.

By the time Alan left, René’s mind was whirling with thought. What to do next? Where to go next? His last question was answered, Shimura works was definitely where he should go next. After that… he’d have to write to Alan on his results. He flopped onto his bed, shaking with nervousness. He grinned despite this, challenges were only to help motivate you. They could motivate you in the damndest ways but sure as hell were worth it.

Traveling to Stohess would take some time, but at least it wasn’t a whole ‘nother wall over. Traveling district to district wasn’t bad, especially considering that René was in Wall Sina. Wall Maria was falling apart at the threads so it was nice being able to be in the inner districts once in a while. His time at the inn was almost up so he’d have to make preparations tonight and head to Stohess tomorrow. Time was of the essence.

Alan looked at the scout before him fumbling to find his words. He would've chuckled, but he didn't want to make the poor fellow any more uncomfortable than he was already. It was understandable, of course. He was dealing with an odd situation - Alan was his superior by rank but his inferior by age. That sort of thing usually made things awkward.
When Rene wished Alan luck, the young Policeman smiled, hopefully not too gloomily. "I, too, hope things will work out. Until we meet again!" and with that, the Military Police Captain walked out of the inn room.

As soon as he stepped outside, it seemed the world had gotten colder and bluer. There was still light outside, but Alan couldn't help but feel shadowed. With the pleasant distraction out of the way, the paranoia came back in full force. Images flashed before his eyes. Gloomy pictures of buildings, a man's laughter, etched markings in steel gear... They were all connected somehow. Alan was sure of it. Something was not right. Something was very, very, wrong.
Immediately, Alan headed to a stable and hired a horse. He had no time for another cartride. He gave the jolly fellow working there a suspicious stare that made the man stutter. Despite his age, he must've looked pretty intimidating in his coat. His cold-grey eyes framed behind delicate glasses must not have helped, either.
Alan rode on the road he passed only a moment ago. His steed was hazel-brown, and a tad smelly. Alan didn't mind. He felt comfort knowing the horse had no intention of betraying him...
unlike some.

One by one, he listed names in his head, possible culprits. Even friends did not go unnoticed. A few names stuck out, but he couldn't tell why. His own squad, in particular, felt ominous. The same way the rest of the whole thing did.
One name in particular stuck out to him. The more he thought about it, the more the suspicion in him rose. He urged his ride to hurry up, almost hugging it in proximity. He could smell the poisons of conspiracy in the air, and he was going to find its source.
Little did the young, foolish Policeman know, that in the end, the conspirator is going to find him.

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