Under the cover of night.
At least, that's how Riley imagined this sort of thing was supposed to happen.
Shadows stretched long and thin across damp ground. Thick fog rolling over the ridge and swallowing the tree line whole. The kind of suffocating darkness where three figures crouched behind a rotting wooden wall, scarcely daring to breathe as they listened to the low, gravelly whispers of hooded figures passing only a few feet away.
One dropped pebble, one misplaced breath, and everything would be over, yet the secrets slipping through the darkness would go on to reshape the continent.
If only.
Because none of that happened under the cover of anything.
Instead, all of it happened in broad-shitting-daylight.
Honestly, Riley wasn't sure whether that made the situation more anticlimactic or significantly more horrifying.
