Sunlight filled Milo's room, but he woke feeling heavy and exhausted, his left eye briefly glowing a deep red a side effect of his powers. He recalled Celestine testing him the night before, then quickly grabbed his pendant and left his room.
Downstairs, he found Celestine asleep on the couch, looking calm and fragile after the battle. His sister, Melina, sat nearby, focused on the TV.
The news reported chaos in Novara: eight police officers had been killed and ten more injured. The public labeled the killer a monster, and images revealed a figure with long green hair and two distinctive strands.
Milo stared at the screen, a mix of anger and sorrow flooding him. "Toxivar… it's him, without a doubt."
Neither the Church nor Novara's government had responded yet, but the city's security dispatched armed police units with advanced tech to track down the boy responsible for the shocking attacks.
Milo was in shock, struggling to comprehend the events.
"What… what is that idiot thinking?! Why did he do this???" he shouted.
Melina looked at him, curious and concerned.
"Do you know this person, Milo?"
"He's one of the troublemakers… I think he's one of their leaders," Milo replied calmly, voice steady despite his anger.
Behind them, Celestine held her head, speaking quietly:
"Alright… alright… everything is clear now."
Her eyes shone with determination. She rested her hands on her thighs, looking down:
"Damn… I shouldn't have left the Novara police to deal with him alone…"
Milo glanced at her sharply.
"What do you mean? Do you know something about what happened last night?"
Melina looked on, confused.
Celestine lifted her eyes toward them, calm and steady:
"Good morning, children of Arthur."
She continued, addressing Milo directly:
"Last night, when you lost consciousness, Milo… that person attacked me and tried to take you with him.
I stopped him and took you with me, then withdrew…"
Celestine slightly rolled up her sleeve, revealing the bandage on her arm:
"That boy attacked me while I was withdrawing, and unfortunately, he managed to injure me.
I asked the Novara police to handle him, thinking they could defeat him… but… what happened, happened."
Milo, shocked, asked:
"Toxivar… he wanted to take me with him?"
Celestine smiled faintly and replied calmly:
"Oh… his name is Toxivar, then.
But I didn't expect him to win… it's impossible for him to succeed alone, even if he's strong.
Their weapons were enough to take him down."
Melina, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders, looked at Milo with curiosity and concern:
"Milo… could this person be the one who told you about the Church? The boy who took you to the Troublemakers' headquarters?"
Milo's eyes were calm but cautious, silently warning her not to speak in front of Celestine.
Celestine, noticing, let out a soft laugh:
"What's with you? So cautious, huh?
Even when I slept under the same roof with you, you still didn't trust me!"
Melina studied Milo, seeking clarification. He sighed slowly, voice calm but heavy with truth:
"Celestine… she was our late mother's apprentice. She was the person who accompanied Mom the most during her missions…"
Melina closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing Celestine's words, while Milo kept his gaze fixed on her. Her eyes shone with determination, adding to the sense of mystery surrounding her connection to their family.
Celestine smiled at Milo, testing him:
"Will you trust me now?" she said, chuckling lightly.
Then, suddenly, she picked up her phone and began scrolling through old photos, showing him one.
In the picture, Celestine stood beside Milo's mother. His mother was stunning, with long brown hair like Milo's but even longer, her features a perfect mix of elegance and maturity. Beside her, a young Celestine appeared as a shy teenager, glasses perched on her nose, black hair tied back neatly.
A wave of nostalgia washed over Milo, and he let out a soft sigh.
"Alright… I'll trust you… I have no other choice…" he said quietly, his voice a mix of resolve and gratitude.
After a few minutes of breakfast and getting ready, Celestine turned to him:
"We need to go to the investigation center and tell them what you know about that boy."
Milo looked at her, slightly annoyed.
Celestine raised both her hands reassuringly:
"Don't worry… I'll be the one to speak. After you explain everything to me, I promise…"
Celestine opened the door and stepped outside.
Milo raised his hand in farewell:
"Goodbye, sister…"
Then he quickly followed Celestine outside.
As they walked, Milo began explaining everything he knew to Celestine.
"The problem isn't just this boy…" Milo said, his voice calm but filled with concern.
"There are people above him in rank… directing him. I believe they want to destroy Novara…"
Celestine listened calmly, a faint smile forming on her lips.
"Interesting… right now, the police are only focused on capturing him. They have no idea what's being planned."
Milo held up his phone: "I have proof here!"
Celestine raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Oh, very good. With this, I'll send a report to the Church about this matter, so they can take care of the Miscreants as quickly as possible before they make any move… even though…"
Milo looked puzzled at her calmness.
"Even though… what?"
Celestine seemed slightly annoyed and upset.
"The Church doesn't care about matters like this… all they care about is that the rich in central Novara aren't harmed. So they won't send strong support… or maybe they'll only send some agency or guild members, or a few of Novara's police to handle the matter."
Milo looked at her, speaking to himself, "She talks a lot…"
Celestine continued calmly:
"Even though she holds the government in her hand, along with the Seven Guards of Novara, she wouldn't risk using them unless the wealthy district was threatened…"
Milo and Celestine walked through the crowded streets of Novara. The bustling markets blended with the clatter of carriages, and the aroma of street food filled the air. Buildings stood close together, their colors faded, with windows sometimes closed to block the noise. On the sidewalks, people hurried some rushing from work, others chatting with friends.
The weather was sunny, yet a cold breeze swept through the alleys, creating a mix of warmth and chill. Life moved busily here, but an underlying tension lingered after the recent events.
Celestine walked beside Milo, appearing annoyed by the situation yet nonchalant. She lifted her head toward the blue sky:
"This isn't fair… it's discrimination…"
Finally, they reached their destination: the Novara Investigation Center. The building was large, with gray stone walls, reflective windows, and iron doors adorned with official insignias. A steady flow of staff and passersby moved around it, yet the place radiated seriousness and authority, as if anyone who entered would face the truth without compromise.
Milo paused, tension flickering across his features, while Celestine remained calm beside him, seemingly ready for anything.
They moved slowly toward the entrance, each step deliberate. The paved ground echoed beneath them, the sunlight reflected off the windows, and the long shadows of the stone pillars amplified the building's stern atmosphere.
Milo lifted his eyes to take in the surroundings, while Celestine walked steadily beside him, her gaze scanning every movement, as if ready to act at any moment.
Inside Novara's wealthy district, a massive gate guarded by two elite soldiers opened only with special permission. Beyond it, the streets were pristine, lined with blooming gardens and fountains a sharp contrast to the rest of the city.
Despite the recent violence, some residents remained indifferent, unconcerned about events outside their district.
The Talented Leader, Tavian, lived in a massive mansion with marble pillars and grand gates, a symbol of power among Novara's elite. Inside, silence hung in the halls not peaceful, but tense, like the calm before a storm. Guards moved in formation, and servants carried documents and crates marked with the "Talented" insignia.
On a leather couch, Raiza rested with her sword in hand, alert even in sleep. Behind closed doors, Gifted members argued and teased, the mansion a sanctuary for the rejected and cast aside.
In a large room overlooking Novara, Tavian sat tall, red hair flowing, black coat embroidered with silver, exuding authority. Beside him, a short-haired girl and Adelheid, monitoring the room, were ready for any situation. Marcus, twisting a Rubik's Cube with one hand, observed silently.
Across from him, a mysterious figure watched with calm, calculated precision, dark attire blending with the dim room.
Tavian smiled slightly, eyes glimmering with anticipation:
"It seems the Troublemakers' gang is about to make their move."
The mysterious figure spoke calmly, his voice low but firm.
"I see… but I don't think what happened last night was part of their plan."
Tavian's brow furrowed slightly as he considered the words.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice measured yet curious.
The mysterious figure leaned on his right hand, his gaze steady.
"I mean what happened last night wasn't ordered by Number One," he explained. "The boy with green hair acted on his own, carrying out his actions independently."
Tavian leaned back slightly, a hint of intrigue lighting up his calm expression.
"And what makes you so sure of that?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.
Tavian's eyes narrowed, a slow smile forming as intrigue grew with every word.
The mysterious figure spoke confidently, a seemingly innocent smile on his face:
"The target of Number One… is to destroy Novara, specifically the Church," he said calmly. "He won't make unnecessary moves, even if it means eliminating some soldiers along the way."
Tavian nodded, piecing the words together.
"So… if the green-haired boy acted on his own…" he prompted.
The figure paused, leaning slightly on his right hand.
"Yes."
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Tavian's lips, a thrill running through him.
"Excellent. Excellent indeed. I must bring him into my family… the Talented."
The mysterious man lowered his head, trying to stifle a laugh.
"Great… you want to add a psychopath to the Talented."
Tavian's eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Everyone here already knows who the real psychopath is."
The man laughed softly, conceding:
"Nice one... Tavian"
The mysterious figure stood and walked to the window, drawing all eyes. Raising both hands, a wicked smile spread across his face as he gazed out:
"Everyone living in this miserable city will witness a new era, full of calamities and destruction."
Tavian smiled, pleased, while the others watched with concern. Marcus finished his Rubik's Cube, holding it carefully in his one hand.
The atmosphere in Tavian's palace was heavy with elegance and tension. High ceilings echoed faint footsteps, chandeliers cast a golden glow over marble floors, and shadows stretched along the walls. The air smelled faintly of wood, incense, and metal, every corner seeming to hold a secret.
The Novara Investigation Center loomed ahead, vast and imposing, with high ceilings and muted gray walls. Morning light filtered through large windows, casting patterns across polished floors.
The main hall buzzed with activity: officers moved briskly between desks, phones rang, and computers hummed steadily. Metal detectors and scanners stood near the entrance, while the faint scent of disinfectant mixed with coffee. Rows of cubicles held focused investigators typing, reviewing evidence, or speaking quietly on headsets.
At the far end, double doors led to private interview rooms. Milo saw officers questioning witnesses, faces tense with concentration. Celestine moved confidently beside him, scanning exits, cameras, and the flow of activity.
They entered quietly. At reception, Celestine showed her identification:
"We have information regarding a recent incident involving the gang led by the green-haired boy," she said firmly.
An officer nodded, gesturing toward a large glass-walled room. Celestine pushed the heavy door open first, followed by Milo. Inside, fluorescent lights reflected off walls lined with filing cabinets. Investigators glanced up from scattered papers, curiosity and impatience in their expressions. The air smelled faintly of coffee and antiseptic, the hum of computers filling the tense silence.
Celestine stepped in first, calm but alert, scanning the room, while Milo followed, clutching his pendant tightly.
"Good evening," celestine said, her voice steady but firm. "We need to report what we witnessed last night."