Before dawn, Lilikaya Island lay shrouded in gray-blue mist.
The casino's neon lights had long since gone out, leaving only the iron cages of the slave market gleaming coldly in the morning light.
Gern leaned in the shadows at the mouth of an alley, his fingertips gently stroking the hilt of Black Blade: Eight Desolations. His gaze never left that cage.
Tesoro's voice was hoarse yet tender, the strings of his battered guitar ringing especially clearly through the silent streets.
Stella leaned against the iron bars, reaching through the gaps to lace her fingers with his. The light in her eyes shone brighter than moonlight.
They sang a folk song from the West Blue, about seagulls and lighthouses, about waiting with a hope that never faded...
Gern neither moved nor spoke.
He simply watched in silence as Tesoro brushed stray strands of hair from Stella's face, as Stella suddenly smiled upon hearing a certain melody.
That smile seemed to make even the cage's shadows transparent.
"So that's it." Gern narrowed his eyes. "This is the magic that can turn a gambler into a saint..."
Gradually, the blonde girl in the cage and the green-haired young man fell asleep, leaning against each other through the bars.
As the morning light grew brighter, Tesoro finally rose. He pressed his forehead against the bars and whispered, "Wait three more days... this time, I'll have enough money."
Seeing that Tesoro's years of effort were finally about to pay off, Stella nodded firmly, her fingertips lingering reluctantly against his palm.
Only after the young man's figure vanished around the street corner did Gern step out of the shadows.
Noticing someone approach, Stella instantly tensed inside the iron cage. The light vanished from her eyes.
She became that numb slave once more, curled in a corner,