(Bell rings) — and the odd, hollow tone it emitted echoed unnaturally through the corridors, sharp enough to raise suspicion. Hina and Mitasu moved forward toward the school's main, well-decorated hall, but Mitasu could not ignore the flood of ideas racing through his mind that day, so he decided to take a shortcut. The path he chose, however, was hardly worthy of being called one—it was a narrow, poorly maintained route along the outer wall of the building, lined with exposed pipes and cracked concrete.
Hina: "That fool… he's going to get himself suspended again," she growled, her steps firm as her hips swayed with restrained irritation while she crossed the polished school hall.
Meanwhile, Mitasu was deeply absorbed in thought, mentally rehearsing complex maneuvering techniques—imagining precise movements that could disable his own arms and legs, even disrupt his thoughts entirely if executed under the right conditions.
Now acting on impulse, he gripped a cold, rusted drainage pipe fixed to the wall and began climbing. His shoes pressed against the rough surface as his fingers tightened around the metal, pulling himself upward toward the classroom window just above. The pipe creaked faintly under his weight.
A surveillance camera mounted at the corner of the building slowly rotated, its lens locking onto him. A faint mechanical hum followed as it tracked his movement. Within moments, he knew—he was going to be caught.
Mitasu: "I'd rather deal with the guards than miss Himawari. She gives me a seriously bad feeling… and that malicious look of hers—it's not normal."
A chill ran down his spine as a vivid image flashed in his mind—Himawari standing before him, her lips curled into a satisfied grin as her fist drove sharply into his neck.
The thought alone made his grip falter.
Then, suddenly—
A cold gust of wind rushed past him, slipping between his fingers and along the pipe. His hand lost its hold.
His body dropped.
For a split second, everything tightened—his fingers clenched instinctively, his back stiffened, and a violent rush of pressure surged upward through his body, forcing the blood toward his head. The air tore past his ears as the ground rapidly closed in beneath him.
The fall accelerated.
Just before impact—
A faint, flickering light sparked in front of his eyes, like a distant shimmer breaking through reality. It expanded instantly, flooding his vision.
Darkness followed.
It swallowed everything.
Then, slowly, the darkness began to thin.
Mitasu's eyes opened—carefully, almost painfully—as light seeped back in. His vision blurred, struggling to adjust to the sudden and unfamiliar surroundings.
Mitasu: "...Was I dreaming?"
He raised a hand to shield his eyes, blinking repeatedly as the new environment came into focus.
His eyes opened slowly like two horizontal, up-and-down windows, and the surface of the surrounding ambience became clearly visible. The eyes belonged to a kid what was amiss was that he had no bruises, no cuts—he could only watch and speak simple words, an assumption made since he was already mumbling them. Nothing was off about his physical appearance apart from his torn, shredded clothes that were unrecognizable.
In the near distance, a man approached silently. He was dawned in brown clothing with green bushy like spots on it. The man looked old—time had taken a huge toll on him. He had lightly sagging jaws that still seemed usable; his eyes were still beaming with charisma, like a golden retriever on a calm, sunny day. Even though his body looked weary, he still seemed capable of powerful deeds.
"If I make it to the market in time, then there will be no problem securing basic commodities. I just hope this beach route is the right one… or am I lost again?" he mumbled to himself while continuously scrubbing his black-and-white hair.
As he passed by, he spotted the kid on the shoreline,he was about 3.5 feet in height, with white hair, nicely curved young jaws, and a pale but shiny face. He looked just about 11 years of age.
"Well then, look what we have here. I hope he speaks English," he grumbled. He swayed down and stretched his hands to pick him up.
As he was lifting the boy, a young man conjured from thin air, the blinding stealthy lights of his manifestation made it impossible to see his whole facade,his presence showed no signd of hostility or disregard to the ongoing event. He was dressed in the same attire as the old man, which made it clear that those camouflaged clothes were uniforms—probably for the kingdoms forces
Young man: "Commander Camador'e, sir—permission to speak."
Camador'e: "Proceed, and be brief about it."
Young soldier: "Yes, sir. Thanks for the utmost kindness. Now for the ongoing report on the east side, Area 66B, Center 7—the G gates have been breached."
His voice casually dropped and rose, a tense tone clearly sensed in it. Anxiety radiated from his strained voice.
Camador'e: "What do you want me to do about it? Run there on two and stop those incompetent fools myself? That's not on my plate today, so get your young chin out of this place."Young soldier: "But s...i...r."Camador'e slides in a grotesque look that wiped the logic of happiness off of the young soldier's crusty, wrinkled, emotionally disfigured face. Woosh, a gust of golden, dust-like, blinding and choking smoke envelopes his entire door-sized body, and without hesitation, his face peered through the thick fog-like light. Accompanied by his gruesome, detestable eye, he composed a huge grin of dissatisfaction as the thick light sizzled him out of the vicinity.Camador'e proceeded with carrying the boy home. Light from the partially dimmed, gold-plated lamps shone through every corner of the gigantic house made of thick silver lining on the front porch, a kingly befitting garden, and emerald-covered golems outside the house's main gigantic, brown, layered door that was only accessible via a gentle push of the knob—as so he, Camador'e, had made it seem so. The continuous shift of viewpoints made it possible to see the utmost beauty and massiveness of the house. Wonders, fantasies, intellectually impossible and incomprehensible desires were true.Tiny circular spheres of shimmering mist floated through the air, vibrating with the black-lined rainbow ambience. All the vibrant designs blended seamlessly into the estate, giving it a refined, authentic grandeur capable of hosting even a prince at the very least.
Cammador'e glanced around. "Now where to go next?" he said casually, studying what appeared to be a layout of the now-confirmed mansion. He quickly examined it and chose a decent room just before his own; all the other rooms appeared to be empty.
Cammador'e soliloquy: "I never thought my day would end like this… from shopping to caring for a complete stranger. Cammy, someday you'll pay for being too trustful. I guess she wasn't wrong—my time is already paying for my impotency. Lemme call the doctor and have a sweet session of shut eye."
He sighed, places the boy on the white,feathery sheets covered him with a blanket and quietly left the room, carefully closing the door .
Morning quickly escalated, and the doctor had already been invited in by a foreign person. He wore a worker's outfit—maybe he was a worker, or perhaps just cosplaying; who knows?
The doctor was steadily examining the boy's body, jotting down several interesting findings. As he was about to be accompanied to the reader with the foreign maid, Cammador'e suddenly appeared, wearing puffy dog pajamas and casually rubbing his eyes while traces of sleep still lingered in them. He leaned against the wall as he dragged his lazy self toward the two unknown figures.
Cammador'e: "Hey Devan, how's the thing going on?"
Devan—that was the mysterious maid's name. He quickly cleared his throat of morning laziness and responded, slightly bending his left leg, bowing his head, and keeping his hands clasped behind his back in a crisscrossed manner.
"How is your ring, good sir? Breakfast is ready in the dining room. Pardon me, may I ask what this thing you seem to recall is all about?" he said.
Cammador'e: "Come on, this thing going on here… and please raise your head."
Devan: "So the thing you are mentioning is the young kid's check-up?"
Cammador'e: "Yes, you get me now. I was a bit scared there—you wouldn't guess my signs," he said, waving his hands as though morning confusion had overtaken him.
Devan: "Sir Williams Cevtinel has arrived to conduct the check-up. I have already passed on your fine regards to his funding management board, and they warmly accept your gracious rewards and call for sir William."
He respectfully lowered his head and introduced William cevintel with focused eye contact and composure.