Saeran watched the boy's expression carefully as the crowd dispersed. He seemed to be staring at the tables quite a bit- OH!

"I bet you're hungry. Come with me," Saeran said quietly, placing a hand on the newcomer's shoulderblade. He didn't let it show that he was surprised when the boy didn't move, but was prepared. "All of your questions will be answered," he reassured. The blonde-haired boy nodded and followed Saeran to the ordering counter, run by their very own kitchen staff, who were part of the resistance as well.

"What do you want to eat?"

"What do you have?" It was the first time Saeran had heard the boy speak, and he smiled to himself. 

"Hey, Vanderwood," Saeran called into the kitchen, leaning on the counter. 

"Saeran," A tall, seemingly androgynous man appeared at the counter, greeting Saeran with a nod before scanning his eyes over Yoosung, "Who's this?"

Saeran didn't know the boy's name either, so he stepped aside to let the two shake hands. 

"I'm Yoosung."

Yoosung. Huh. 

"You can just call me Vanderwood. I practically run this place. I'm head of cleaning, cooking, and general shit. Stay in line, don't go killing anybody. Speaking of which," Vanderwood turned to Saeran, "We're running low on medical supplies; somebody's gotta do a run soon. Another fucking tournament is coming up. The butt-heads think it's gotta be a weekly occurrence. You know what I think it is? A pain in my ass. Get me some new recruits who can sew a few stitches. You wouldn't believe the kind of shit people come into the infirmary for. 'Oh Doctor Vanderwood, I got a paper-cut!' 'Oh Doctor Vanderwood, I stubbed my toe!' No. Get these wimps outta the way of people who actually need my help. We don't need 30-year-old men running to me crying for Mommy Vanderwood every time they get their feelings hurt. Tell Jaehee to step up their training regiment, for the love of God." Saeran nodded stoically, trying not to burst out laughing at Vanderwood's antics. 

"I'll keep all of that in mind, thanks man. Now, can you get some lunch for this poor kid?" 

"Don't just think about it, Saeran. Do it. And we've got pizza and hamburgers kid, whaddaya want?" 

"A hamburger. Please. Thank you." Saeran smirked at this, already knowing how Vanderwood would react.

"See, Saeran? This is the kinda kid we need! R-E-S-P-E-C-T. CAN I GET A HAMBURGER OVER HERE?"

When he was served the delicious-looking burger, he thanked Vanderwood again before looking to Saeran for a place to sit. 

They chose a small table off to the side, away from the loud crown. 

Okay, I'm just gonna ask a few basic questions, and then you can ask every single one of yours. This is just protocol."

Yoosung nodded, munching happily on his hamburger. 

"First, your full name?"

"Yoosung Kim," he spoke around the burger in his mouth.

"Age?" 

"21." Saeran kicked the ass of his perverted mind that was whispering things like, "It would've been legal if we were still in Aithne," in his head. He absolutely didn't need that right now.

"And you were banished for what?"

Yoosung was too immersed in his food to have the common sense to ask why, "I said something that offended him," he replied vaguely. 

Saeran's pervy mind wondered if asking his sexuality could count as protocol.

"Okay, that's it, go ahead." Saeran patiently waited for Yoosung to finish his burger, his pervert mind screaming as Yoosung licked the grease and ketchup off his fingers slowly.

"Where am I?"

"30 miles away from Aithne in an incredibly well defended and hidden hideout."

"Who are you? Who is this group, more of?"

"We call ourselves The Cold Resistance. We're a group that's accumulated over 300 rebels and outlaws from the three kingdoms. You'll see a lot of people you might recognize here, and please say hello if you want, but most of us are still very sensitive, and we don't often like bringing up the topic of our old kingdoms."

"Wait, did you say three kingdoms?"

"Yeah. You probably know two of them, Aithne and Calida, but the third is a good 60 or 70 miles away from us, called Tannon. We know very little about it, and only have a couple recruits from it. It's very discreet, and its High Justice communicates with the Emperor and the Queen very rarely."

"Wow... I had no idea. What's your cause? What's your point?"

"We train for hours, always wanting to get stronger and more fit, but our overall plan... well, it's complicated-"

"You don't have one, do you?" Yoosung asked bluntly. 

"Not really, no." Saeran sighed. 

"What's my role here?"

"Woah, already claiming yourself as a recruit? That's a bold move."

"I think you need me more than you think you do." Saeran's pervy brain sprung back up.

Saeran coughed. "And why is that?"

Yoosung rolled his eyes before standing. "Will you please take me to wherever you took my clothes? There's something I need to show you."

Saeran stood up as well, and silently led the way to the laundry room, which was through a passage on the opposite side of the cafeteria, and then three doors down. Steam swirled around the two figures as the entered the room, weaving through the workers as they stirred giant pots of boiling water over kettles, adding garments, towels, and sheets. 

At the back of the room, Yoosungs clothes were folded neatly in a pile on an ironing board. Yoosung smiled to himself in relief when he saw that his necklace had remained. 

A medium-sized cylinder with gold etchings on the sides held Yoosung's plans for The Cold. He carefully unscrewed the cap of the cylinder, then pulled a thick roll of paper out of the hollow and glanced up at Saeran.

"What's that?" Saeran questioned over the sound of the laundry.

"My plans to overtake Aithne."