Mug squinted through the rain. “Wait, wait, hold up,” he said, motioning a hand at Finn and Anonymous. “What’s that?”

They all crept over to the still figure on the ground.

“No…no, it can’t be,” Mug said, tears threatening his eyes. “It’s not hi—him! It’s not him!” He ran away from the scene.

Anonymous looked down, and his glasses slipped off. For the first time ever, you could see raw emotion in his face. He was crying.

Finn looked away. Brass Eagle lay motionless on the ground, unblinking eyes staring emptily at the sky. His face was bruised and bloodied, from what seemed to be a terrible beating. His face was already swelling.

Finn gasped for air, for something, but nothing came. Anonymous walked away and sat against a tree. Mug could be heard tearing trees down.

Brass Eagle was dead.