Splinter, an old rat with a grizzled coat and eyes shadowed by years of hardship, stands at the foot of the steps leading to the parliament. He shivers slightly, not from the cold, but from the weight of the task ahead. "Ratilus deserved better," he mutters, as memories of his fallen friend and colleague flood his mind.

Splinter pushes through the throng, his nose twitching as he detects the faint scent of gunpowder lingering in the air. The chatter hushes as he approaches the podium where Ratila's body was found. "This was no accident," he declares, scanning the room for any sign of the killer.

Splinter approaches cautiously, his instincts screaming at him to be wary. "You still think I killed your friend?" Smokey purrs, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Prove me wrong," Splinter replies, desperation tinging his words.

"Omnious is playing us all," Smokey reveals, his voice low and urgent. Splinter narrows his eyes, struggling to reconcile the truth with his long-held suspicions. "Then we stop him together," he decides, the weight of his words binding them in a reluctant alliance.

"Omnious plans to incite another war," Splinter breathes, disbelief and horror intertwining in his voice. "And he'll kill anyone who stands in his way," Smokey adds grimly, the gravity of their mission settling over them like a shroud.

"We did it," Splinter says, a faint smile breaking through his weary features. "For now," Smokey replies, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. Together, they turn away, united by an unlikely bond forged in the fires of conspiracy and survival.