Chapter Text
All of their eyes were on Brooke. Her gaze moved from Nashetania, who would not look at her, to Chamo, who looked all too eager to take out the imposter.
“Guys?” There was nothing else she could muster. They all thought that she was the seventh.
“There is no use in lying to us. Just deactivate the barrier.” Mora said, taking an intimidating step forward. She stepped back.
“I would… I mean, I would if I could, but I don’t know how. I’m not the seventh!”
“Aw c’mon, can’t we just kill her?” Chamo whined, waving her foxtail back and forth. Brooke hoped that someone doubted her guilt, but no one spoke up in her defense. Her allies were going to kill her, and the real imposter would be one step closer to eliminating the six Braves. Who was the seventh? If she could figure that out, if she could only cast some doubt, she may still have a chance.
“I know you have no reason to believe me, but I’m not the seventh.” Brooke scanned the people in front of her. “Why aren’t we considering anyone else?” Who can I pin it on? Anyone… anyone! Her eyes finally settled on the suspicious man in front of her. “Why couldn’t the imposter be Hans?” She did not think that the assassin was actually the imposter, it would be too obvious. However, someone who killed people for a living was the easiest person for her to suspect. As soon as the name left her mouth everyone’s eyes turned towards Hans. That was the moment she needed. Brooke whipped around and took off out of the temple. Fremy was the first to cry out and it was certain that if she had had her gun Brooke would have been shot and killed.