A trooper trails a middle-aged man in a dense green forest. The man has rugged clothing, and scraps of hair missing. His age shows on his face, but he strides as someone with power. He carries a small satchel with him. The man stops, and puts his bag down in a care-free manner. He lays out a cloth beneath him. He takes out a loaf of bread. He calls out to the clone lurking in the brush. "Well, are you here to kill me or not? Get it over with, shithead." The figure steps out from his hiding place. His armor that he'd usually wear is covered by a green and brown cloak. "I'm not here to harm you." "Of course not, boy. You casted your weapons towards that tree over there." The trooper looked down in confusion. He was no longer armed. He glanced back up, seeing his rifle, pistol, and knife leaning against a tree almost twenty yards away. "How did you-" "There is no need to be concerned. Sit." The trooper, after seeing no apparent harm, sits down. The man offers him some bread. "No thanks," The trooper responds, "I've eaten." "And yet," the man replies, "Your hunger for atonement overwhelms you. Tell me, why have clone troopers been keeping tabs on me, an old man? I've caused no harm, and Anchoron is a peaceful place." "You know something we don't about the Terrazyne. Something we don't." The old man makes no change in his gentle, carefree body language, but a fiery look can be seen in his eyes. "I know not to tamper with the natural order of things. I lost a wife in childbirth in my early days of adulthood. In my despair, I discovered that accursed substance in my journeys. I learned of its power in ancient runes. In my own use, I learned of its catastrophic effects." "And yet," the trooper responded, "You've lived a long life. You've healed many of the sick of this planet. You're known as a doctor, but you have no medicine. You have lived your life serving others, and find satisfaction in it." "These powers only come to those are worthy of them. You cannot go against the natural order of things without severe consequences, and I think you already know that. Your lust of power to bring back a loved one will be your death." The trooper gets up to leave, and heads to the tree to pick back up his weapons, only to realize that they are already on his person. "This won't be the last time we meet, old man." "That is to be expected. I see our paths crossing in the future, perhaps sooner than you think." The man pours out a drink into a wooden cup as the trooper walks deep into the forest returning to his ship.