We—Hanso, Miguel, and I—had halted. We were no longer headed north. Because, in front of us, a battle unveiled. 

Two hobgoblins against a human man. It was a fight of magic power. The hobgoblins were supposedly related or perhaps clones because, strangely, they shared an ability. Spikes protruded from their bodies like extending claws of four-legged animals. They lunged at the lone human who stood with fear in his eyes. 

They constantly stabbed and slashed the human to his body, and then retracted their spikes. After the spikes were yanked out, the human's wounds quickly regenerated. But he was weak. Slow. He flung punches but missed. And when his blows did come through, they hadn't done significant damage to the muscular hobgoblins. 

"Come on, brother! Let's kill this mother fucker!"

"He keeps regenerating. I don't know where to hit."

"A dead man can't regenerate. Aim for the heart or the head. He's bound to die!"

"We'll make you pay for what you've done to our third brother!"

"You mess with the family, you mess with me. You mess with me," he dashed in. "You mess with us!"

The hobgoblins would have already killed the human had he not possessed a regeneration ability. But even so, they did not let up. They attacked relentlessly. They both rushed in again as the human began to retreat slowly. The first hobgoblin kicked him to his stomach. He doubled over. The other kicked him to his face. He was knocked over to his back. 

"You racist bastard," the first hobgoblin leaped into the air, "you killed him!" he landed on the human's stomach. 

The human's eyes bulged.

Drawing spikes, the hobgoblin knelt on his chest. "How could you just shoot him for nothing?" He raised his hand. "Answer me, you weak fuck!"

The human's eyes slowly moisturized. "I was trying to tell you ... I didn't kill your brother. Everyone knows not to mess with the triplets!"

"Liar!"

Tears trickled down the man's face. "I'm confused as to why you're doing this to me. I'm not the one who killed your daughter," he sobbed, his face wrinkling, "please ... I never fought in my life. I don't even own a gun. Just let me go to my family—please!"

The hobgoblin punched him to the face. "You," he punched him again, "fucking," he hammered his fist into his head, "liar!'

"Please ... please ... I'm confused. I didn't do anything," he whimpered, "please .... spare my life. I don't wanna die. My family ... they need me."

Watching this, I suddenly felt my legs growing weaker. My eyes widened in horror. "He's gonna die ... as an innocent man. He's speaking the truth."

Miguel tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at him. He pointed at a man in a black uniform watching the battle alongside two other men in the same black uniform. They were working for the government. They were supposed to be stopping the battle. Saving that innocent man's life. What were they doing?

"I know what you're thinking," Miguel said, "but if those guys over there don't care, why should we risk our lives? They're powerful law enforcers, and yet they watch the innocent die. Please, let's go."

I looked at him, and then I looked at the battle again. 

"PLEASE! Please stop ..."

They were gorging his eyes out and inflicting the worst pain possible, all to get him to confess the false fact that he had killed their brother. 

I clenched my fists, tightly. Then, I furrowed my brows and started to approach the spectating men. 

"Ash, what the hell are you going?"

"Don't Ash!"

"Those men might hurt you!'

I neglected their words. I walked up to the men and stopped right in front of them.

They all peered at me with glassy eyes brimming with apathy.

I scowled. "You ... all of you ... disgust me. That man over there is innocent and you know that. Even if he isn't innocent, it's your job to stop that fight. Impose pressure onto them. Put them in cuffs. Stop these two from killing that man!"

"Help him! Help that innocent man!"

They all just stared at me, listlessly. They didn't care. And that .... hurt me inside. 

I turned around, walking away. I felt my skin wrinkling. My bottom lip pouted. My body went aquiver. Tears ran down my cheeks. I cried like a baby. 

As I neared Hanso and Miguel, I wiped my tears away with my forearms. They both turned and started watching as I approached them. I stopped and turned to look at the innocent man. The man was on the floor with a hole in his forehead. The two hobgoblins towered over him, panting. 

"Let's get outta here," one said, looking over at us. Glaring over at us. 

The other one spat on the human, saliva spewing from his mouth. "Yeah, we should. We don't want any trouble with those guards. Let's go find his family before it gets dark."

The two ran off, leaving the innocent man's corpse on the ground. Blood oozed from his head, spanning across the floor. He was murdered for nothing. Just like that old man, he didn't have to die. If the men in the suits had helped, they would have both lived.

Or maybe .... if I wasn't so weak and fearful ... they would have lived. 

***

Ultimately, we had continued walking again. I made sure I gave the men in the suits a death-glare before I left. But, of course, they weren't intimidated by it. After all, I was weakling. A coward. If these things weren't true, that innocent man and his family would have dwelled forth to see other days. 

But I watched him die, just like I watched my friends die. And then I walked away unharmed. I was a coward. It was somewhat intrinsic. It couldn't be changed unless I died. But to die a coward, was something I preferred not. 

But just what could I have done to change that? I was a coward. A weakling. No bravery, no powers. I glimpsed at Miguel and Hanso as they followed me. It was a danger having them around me. I was certain that the day would come when I watch them die and walk away as well. 

Suddenly, rain burst down from the heavens, sprinkling and dousing the cold New World with its wet reign. I felt it falling onto my skin. It was cold and wet as I expected. Lightning flashed, and whereupon thunder sounded, reverberating. Loud. But quiet and trivial in the likes of my defeating thoughts of cowardice.

The rain matched my mood. Gloomy. Grim. Sorrowful. No wonder why Jin liked it so much.

Miguel looked up at the sky, smiling. Then, Hanso did the same, but had gone so far as to outstretch his arms. 

The rain quickly made my hair fall over my face. I looked up at the sky as well. "So it rains, huh?"