Ambrosius dug through the box of his mom’s things. He had no intention of coming back to The Kingdom, and whatever he brought with him, he’d have to carry. That narrowed down the list a lot. He felt bad about leaving so much stuff behind in the vault; stuff nobody would ever find until The Kingdom’s descendants decided to dig the building's basement out some day. Ambrosius would be long gone by then. Would someone see this place and think of him, the last descendant of Gloreth? Or would he wind up like Ballister, with no mark left behind save for an entry in a logbook?

Eventually, Ambrosius settled on the small video device and an old pendant necklace of his mom’s, which he figured he could wear so it wouldn’t get lost during travel. He could use the video device as a journal on their journey, and the pendant had been in his mom’s family for generations, so it only seemed right he bring it with him. That only left something of his dad’s to bring…

“Hey Nimona - you saw more of my dad than I ever did - what do you think he’d want me to bring?”

Nimona, who’d been mimicking the displays of armor onto herself, stopped to look at him.

“Who cares what he would’ve wanted? You can bring what you want.”

Nimona was right, but Ambrosius knew he’d be disappointed in himself if he didn’t pick something good.

“What kinds of things did he like? I know he collected old books…”

“Pick a book then? If it’s in here, it must have meant something to him.”

Ambrosius started looking through several boxes, all containing old books, trying to find the perfect one. Not too big to be heavy, not too small to get lost, not too old to fall apart…

There was a wide variety in the collection, some of which he recognized as contraband material. 

Nimona rambled.

“I don’t know why he settled on books - that guy really just liked anything rare, especially if The Institute didn’t approve of it. I mean, it's no wonder he married your mom.”

Ambrosius stopped.

“What?”

“What?”

“About my mom.”

“What, you didn’t know?” Nimona looked at him in disbelief. “How the whole thing was internal politics?”

Ambrosius shook his head slowly.

“They said my mom being a rich senator made her a top candidate. My dad liked her, and The Institute condoned it.”

Nimona turned back to the armor.

“Yeah, classic Institute coverup. Your dad just wanted to give them the middle finger since they hadn’t approved him for a promotion, and she was the furthest thing from the ‘pure bloodline’ the next child of Gloreth was supposed to have. Your dad was a quick mover too. I don’t know how he got your mom to agree to it, but The Institute didn’t have a choice after he made a big fancy announcement that they were married.”

Ambrosius hadn’t heard that version of the story, but at this point he didn’t trust anything The Institute had told him. As far as he knew, everything was a coverup for something. Speaking of which…

“How did my dad die?”

“Hm?” Nimona’s muffled voice came from inside the helmet she’d shifted onto herself.

“Back at Blitzmeyer’s storage place, you said The Institute was hiding what really happened, that he didn’t get hit by a truck.”

Nimona turned back to the armor.

“Oh yeah. I mean, it’s a boring story… he just got stabbed in a bar fight.”

Ambrosius furrowed his brow.

“That’s it? That’s what they were hiding?”

“Like I said, boring.”

“Nimona…” Ambrosius slid the box he’d been looking through back onto its shelf. He’d known Nimona just long enough to know when she wasn’t being entirely truthful, and this was one of those times. “What really happened? Or do I need to go through medical records to find out?”

Nimona groaned and shifted her helmet off.

“Okay… so you know the VIP room up there?” Nimona pointed toward the restaurant above them. “All the nobles have open tabs, so it’s free food if you look like one of them. So I had a front-row seat. This drunk knight guy was mouthing off at your dad - something about some political thing your mom was involved with - and it ticked your dad off enough that he tried to slug the guy… but the other guy was paranoid and always had a blade on him. So yeah. The guy freaked out and stabbed him several times before the other knights in the room took him down. Then because your dad was all tough ego, he wouldn’t let anyone help him, so he bled out before the medics got there. The Institute couldn’t have a story about noble knights killing each other though, so they made up the accident.”

Ambrosius wasn’t sure what to make of that. Everything he’d heard about his dad had painted him as a strong, proud figure, so him refusing help didn’t sound out of character… Why hadn’t someone done something anyway though? His dad had been important, shouldn’t that have overrode courtesy?

“So you saw the whole thing?”

Nimona waved a hand.

“Yeah. Like I said, boring.”

Ambrosius felt frustration building up in him. Nimona had described his family as ‘Gloreth’s kids’, and Gloreth being a friend. Hadn’t she cared enough to save one of them?

“Boring? My dad died!”

“And?”

Of course she’d respond with that. His dad didn’t matter to her. None of this was personal - after watching so many generations, Nimona didn't actually care about him or his family. She just watched things happen. It was entertainment for her.

“And you… you didn’t do anything!” Ambrosius exclaimed. 

Nimona shrugged.

“What’d you expect me to do? It was the VIP room - I had to stay in disguise!”

“You’re strong - you could have pinned him down so someone could stop the bleeding, or something!”

Nimona shook her head.

“Yeah, but why? He wasn't a good person. You and your mom were better off without him.”

That triggered something in Ambrosius. Sure he had mixed feelings about his dad, but that didn’t mean he'd been a bad person, and that didn't mean he’d deserved to die!

Ambrosius was staring daggers at Nimona.

“Do you know how many nights I cried because I didn’t have a dad? Do you know how hard it was knowing if something happened to my mom, I’d be alone? And then that very thing happening?!”

“You really don't remember him, do you? He was an asshole.”

Ambrosius’s hands clenched.

“He could have changed!”

“People don’t change, boss. He would’ve stayed the same asshole he always was.”

“Having an asshole dad would have been better than no dad at all!”

“You don’t know that.”

Ambrosius was livid.

“How would you know? You’ve never even had parents, you don’t know how much it hurts to lose them both!”

“Hey, I’ve lost things too, pal!”

“Yeah?! Like wh-”

Ambrosius’s voice was cut off by a raucous chime as the timer in his pocket went off. 15 minutes till closing.

Ambrosius glowered and shoved a small poetry book from a shelf into the duffel bag. It would have to do.

“Time to go.” He said, holding the bag open with a glare at Nimona.

Nimona looked like she didn’t want to be anywhere around Ambrosius right now, but he was her only ticket out of the building.

“Fine.”

She jumped, shifting into a mouse midair, and landing inside the bag. Ambrosius zipped it shut and limped to the corridor leading out of the vault, shutting off the lights behind him. Angry or not, he wanted out of this place, and he needed Nimona for that. 

It was time to start their escape plan.