The figure watched, from its vantage point atop a hillock overlooking the winding road below, as a large army of blue-clad soldiers stormed towards the forest it was standing in.
“Shit,” it cursed, and ran back into the camouflage of the trees, ignoring the rain pouring down on its shoulders.
It didn’t stop until it reached a clearing where several dilapidated buildings stood, like a separate, tiny city within their city.
The buildings were arranged haphazardly together, not quite in a block and not quite in a straight path, either.
The spaces between them made impromptu streets through which the figure ran, finally barging into one of the buildings at the very centre.
“They’re coming,” it announced, not without some trepidation.
A startled silence followed that announcement. It only lasted a few seconds before a huge ruckus erupted.
“Yata-san!” someone shouted, and someone else raced up a flight of metal stairs to find the person in question.
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