METRO 1497 - CHAPTER 13 PT2

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--LODGE ENTRANCE--

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The sky sinks lower, dusk, settling like a curtain slowly over the villagers. The community eventually disperses home, Metro waves at them from the Lodge's entrance.

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Rose slips beside him, trembling with a worried smile. She puts her hand lightly on his cheeks, whispering to him.

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The gang heads to Paul's for the night, Metro stays behind, watching them trot away. He climbs the front lodge's steps slowly, backpack slung over one shoulder, breath steadying.

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He enters Theron's chamber.

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Veronica is there now, standing beside Susan.

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Metro steps forward through the chamber bedroom hallway, entering inside where the King's family is.

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Fire crackles in close distance, and can be seen by the end of the chamber.

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(Beat)

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Metro (sturdy, straight forward)

“My king, I've completed the task you gave me.

We've doubled it. I honored our agreement, and I'm asking to be released now.”

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Theron's jaw tightens. He looks away, rubbing his temples as if the weight of the entire Kingdom is pressing down on him.

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Theron:

"You ask me this at the worst possible time. The head of the Province expects several perfect — quality — shipments… If we fail them… my house falls."

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Metro's stomach drops, but he doesn't flinch.

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Metro (sharp, almost painful)

"I've given you my all, everything…

I've fought for your fields and your servants.

I've stood with you — and I still do.

But I need my life back.

I need freedom to leave the castle."

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Theron's breath is heard.

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For a moment, he looks less like a King and more like a man who has seen too much.

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He stares at Metro's chest — humbled, shaking, and afraid.

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Theron:

"I… I don't know what to do anymore, with all of this…

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I saw death.

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I saw light."

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His voice cracks.

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He looks down at his hands.

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"My Kingdom hangs by a thread."

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He looks up to Metro's gaze, totally exposed.

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"I need this to go through."

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He glances down again, straightening himself slowly, forcing himself back into the posture of a ruler. His voice steadies.

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Theron:

"One more run.

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One more harvest.

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Teach my farmhands your formula — every step — every measure. Give me that… and I will release you."

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He shakes his head gently, firmly, but assuredly.

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"You have my word."

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Metro stands still, determined to fight a storm behind his eyes.

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He nods once.

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Metro turns, and steps toward the chamber door, moving slowly, shoulders easing just a fraction.

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He passes through the doorway into the hallway corridor.

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And stops there.

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Because someone is already standing next to him to his left —hands folded neatly behind his back, smiling like he's been waiting for this exact moment.

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Traeven —His eyes gleam with amusement — and something sharper underneath.

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Traeven:

"Do you mind if we have that talk now?"

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He steps forward, smile widening, just enough to be unsettling.

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Traeven:

"It's about my brother, Mathias."

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The air tightens around them, but expressions remain the same.

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TRAEVENS OFFICE —

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Metro steps inside the black stoned room.

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Traeven's office.

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The room is darker than Theron's chamber — shadows pooling the corners, leather bound books stacked in uneven towers, a massive library wall behind Traeven's black desk. Letters, a quill, several candles burning low. A single lantern flickers by the doorway.

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Traeven moves behind his desk and sits immediately, like he's been waiting for this moment for years.

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Traeven:

"Please. Sit."

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Metro doesn't move. He studies Traeven — the posture, the smile, the stillness.

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Traeven:(extends hand, laidback)

"Metro, you're my guest. Please.

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I mean no harm."

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Metro sits slowly, eyeing the chair like it might drop into a pit.

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They lock eyes.

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Traven leans back further, fingers steepled, a faint smile on his lips.

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In his own atmosphere, looking completely comfortable.

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Then his expression shifts — A slight expressed sorrow.

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Traeven:

"Tell me…

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"What happened to my brother?

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Metro says nothing at first.

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He just stares at Traeven, reading him.

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Finally,

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Metro:

"Mathias led a frontal attack, it was a trap.

The enemy used it as a distraction to penetrate the back wall.

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Traeven watches him like he's watching a play — fascinated, entertained, hungry for the next line.

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Metro continues, unsure of Traeven’s mood.

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Metro:

"I was about to die.

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Your brother saved my life.

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He was murdered from behind, right after that."

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Metro looks down, the memory twisting in his gut.

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Traeven's face goes still — calculating, not grieving.

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(A long beat.)

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Traeven:

"He died for you."

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Metro's eyes sharpen — intensity rising.

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Traeven leans forward slightly, studying that reaction.

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"I'm glad you didn't run."

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"You were there — on the battlefield.’

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"I can't imagine what that was like.”

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He watches Metro like he's trying to see inside him.

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Traeven:

I haven't seen you in so long…

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I've missed having you around, really…

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And I want you to know…

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I've forgiven you.

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Metro stares into him — no expression, no warmth, no acceptance.

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Traeven presses on.

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Traeven:

"While you've been climbing the ranks by accident, I've been here, grinding.

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Weighing the balances.

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Pushing Forward."

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Traeven (voice softening)

"I'll say what you already know.’

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"You're a threat."

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"To everyone."

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He shakes his head, almost in disbelief.

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Traeven (whispers)

"What did you do to them?"

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Metro's voice is steady.

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Metro (voice low)

"I think you know — deep down — exactly what happened."

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Traeven leans back, delighted.

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He throws his left arm over the back of his chair, crosses his right leg over his left and grins.

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Traeven:

"The King and Queen were corpses, Metro…You were shining bright.

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(Beat)

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"Are you planning to make a run for the crown?"

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Metro doesn't react.

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He's not amused.

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Metro:

"You know I'm not here for that." I'm trying to get out of this. I don't want anyone hurt, or killed. This isn't a game to me."

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Traeven's smile fades.

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He matches Metro's seriousness.

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He looks down at the letters on his desk, fingers steepled again.

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Traeven:

"You're not safe here".

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He looks up — eyes sharp, voice low —

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"Or in the fortress, but I don't have to tell you that.

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' People fear what they don't understand. You know that."

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He leans forward.

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Traeven:

"So, let me stand beside you."

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Metro's expression shifts — the smallest crack in his armor.

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Traeven sees it instantly.

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Traeven:

"my record proves I'm a master strategist…

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An advisor."

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He glances up at the tapestries on his wall, admiring his own legacy.

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Then he looks back at Metro — confidence sharpened to a pointed blade.

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Traeven:

"I can manage your problems. Your influences... I'm not afraid of your aura."

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For a split second, Metro looks like he might give in.

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Traeven's eyes narrow — predatory, triumphant.

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"The people are following you."

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"The soldiers too."

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"But Theron…"

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(Heavy Beat)

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Traeven:

"He's afraid of you."

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Metro lifts his gaze — keeping eye contact — a quiet realization settling in.

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Traeven leans in, voice barely above a whisper.

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Traeven:

"Listen, Let me help you…"

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Metro stares into outer space, unsure.

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Stalling,

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thinking...

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scene fades black —

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end scene —

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