LUCIUS
"The nightmare, huh? It does sound like one, doesn't it?"
I nodded quietly.
A thousand more like me? With my abilities, my skills, my abnormal connection to mana? That's not just bad news — that's a full-blown catastrophe. And I wasn't even trying to exaggerate myself here. Even though everyone knew how absurdly gifted I was in certain fields, this time... there was no pride in it. Only a cold, sinking realisation.
"For now, let's just hope you're the only freak around," Arcane said with a rough exhale. "The only one blessed — or cursed — with such absurd gifts by mana... or whatever force decided to meddle."
His voice sharpened slightly, but there was a flicker there too — a subtle hint of fear bleeding into his usual iron tone.
"That's the most likely conclusion I'm willing to draw. The rest? I'd like to respectfully deny their existence. Let's pray you're not a lab experiment, Lucius... but something chosen. Something special. Maybe even a messiah, if we're lucky."
He spoke the words, but we both knew prayers rarely answered nightmares.
"Now then," he said, leaning forward slightly, his gaze drilling into mine, "you know what needs to be done from here onwards, right?"
I nodded again, stiffly. Honestly? I had lost the strength to speak. My voice, usually sharp and clear, was reduced to breathless whispers. My mind felt like it was crawling just to keep pace, and even the act of answering drained what little strength I had left.
"...I'll still repeat it one last time," Arcane said, voice steady but grave.
"Your mission is simple in words but lethal in practice — maybe even life-threatening."
"Certainly," I corrected automatically, the word dry and humourless on my tongue.
He allowed a tiny, approving twitch of his lip before continuing.
"—Once I leave this city, this region, you'll act in my stead. Investigate the ones responsible for these abductions. They overprepared, keeping someone like me in mind, which means they'll have layered traps, misdirections, and false leads. It'll be harder for you, not easier. But that same overcaution will force them to leave behind... mistakes. Crumbs. Trails hidden among shadows."
He leaned closer, eyes like molten steel.
"You must find them, Lucius. Find the trail, and follow it. Dig until you uncover whatever horror festers behind this."
I blinked slowly, still feeling the weight settle heavier with every word.
My fists curled weakly at my sides.
This wasn't just a mission anymore — it was a damnation.
Guardian Alpha's core. My own growth to S-rank.
All of it — paused, pushed aside by something larger, something darker.
I bit down on the bitter taste rising in my throat. Personal agendas meant nothing when true nightmares stirred.
"Spend some time with your loved ones first," Arcane added quietly, almost like an afterthought. "Tell them what you need to, when you think the time is right. I trust your judgment the way I trust your instincts."
He straightened slightly, his expression turning colder.
"Your top priorities are these Nmanas — and that jackal hiding in human skin, Goodman."
At the mention of Goodman's name, my head lifted sharply, my gaze hardening.
Arcane caught the look and offered a slow, knowing nod.
"Our exchange was brief," he said, almost spitting the words out. "But enough. That man is strong—unnaturally strong, and utterly rotten inside."
"You must grow stronger, Lucius. By any means necessary. Goodman will not stop. He's not just a watcher — he's a patient predator. Sooner or later, his calm insanity will surface, and when it does..."
His voice dropped to a grim whisper.
"You'll have to be ready."
A chill rippled through me, colder than the night air.
I understood. I had understood from the moment Goodman's eyes first locked onto Arcane. Admiration? No. It was hunger, masked in civility.
Arcane's visit might delay him — a few months, maybe a year at best. But monsters like Goodman never stayed dormant forever.
On a quieter note, Arcane pulled out a small pouch and handed it to me.
"Your birthday was a few days ago," he said, tone lighter but no less serious. "Consider this a delayed gift."
Inside the pouch were four mana cores — each potent, each thrumming faintly against my senses.
Two were blank slates — no elemental affinity, pure raw mana.
One buzzed sharply with a strong wind signature.
The last radiated heat, warming the air around it, is fire.
And then there was the additional core I already carried.
I looked up at him, and without exchanging a single word, we understood each other.
An old look. A warrior's look.
He was giving me options. Unpredictability. A wild card Goodman wouldn't see coming.
"Thank you," I said quietly, feeling the weight of the gift far beyond its physical form. "These might be insignificant to you, Arcane... but to us? They'll be our trump cards when the time comes."
Already, my mana was reaching out, resonating with the two blank cores. A whisper, a promise of future strength.
Arcane then explained how he'd maintain the illusion that he was still inside Varis — a phantom investigator in the shadows — forcing our hidden enemies to stay paranoid, to slip up eventually.
I listened carefully, absorbing every strategy, every layer of deception.
When he finally stood, I stood too, though my body screamed in protest.
"I must depart," he said, voice low. "There are other responsibilities... other fires to tend to."
He lingered for a moment, watching the horizon with me — the same dark sky, the same cold winds. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had.
"Goodbye, Arcane," I said, my throat tightening painfully. "I hope next time we meet, I'll have grown stronger... without changing too much."
Our goodbyes had always been like this — confusing, awkward, wordless things.
But maybe that was what made them real.
He gave me one last meaningful nod, then — like smoke on the wind — he was gone.
Vanished into the night.
I stood there for a long while, feeling the silence press against me, until finally, my weary eyes closed, surrendering at last to the weight of sleep.
Until next time, Arvain.