"I want to see that child," Rafiki said, his voice steady but carrying a weight Ishita hadn't heard in years.
The mayor gave a small nod, then quietly led the way through the marble hallway. Ishita and Rafiki followed behind, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls.
For a while, silence stretched between them—until Rafiki's low voice broke through.
"Why is the mayor showing so much care for this boy? He's just another nameless child… right?"
Ishita slowed, glancing at him, his usual easy smile nowhere to be found. He let out a long breath.
"…So you don't know."
Rafiki frowned. "Know what?"
Ishita's eyes dimmed, and for a moment he hesitated—as if speaking the truth would cut him open all over again. Finally, he spoke.
"You know Kubota-san always said his children and grandchildren stayed in town, right?"
"Yes," Rafiki answered with a short nod. "He always kept them close. Why bring that up now?"
Ishita stopped walking. His voice grew quieter, rougher.
"Because that was before the demons came for him."
Rafiki's brow furrowed. Ishita's words carried a tremor that made him uneasy.
"The demons learned who his true son was," Ishita continued, his hands curling into fists at his side. "They found him. They found his family. And they used them to try to break Kubota-san—to force him into becoming their subordinate."
His voice caught, just slightly.
"But Kubota… he denied it. He told them he didn't know. He thought… he thought if he acted like a stranger, they'd spare his son and his grandchildren."
Rafiki's chest tightened. "And?" he pressed, though part of him already knew the answer.
Ishita's jaw clenched. His gaze fell to the polished floor beneath their feet.
"They didn't spare them."
The hallway grew colder, as though the walls themselves held their breath.
"They slaughtered his son," Ishita whispered, "and his grandchildren… right in front of him. The children were only around four years old. Same age as the boy lying in that room now."
Silence. Only the distant flicker of torchlight danced along the walls.
Rafiki turned his head, studying the mayor walking just ahead. His shoulders were stiff, his back heavy with the invisible weight of grief. Even from behind, Rafiki could feel the sorrow radiating from him.
For the first time in a long while, Rafiki's expression softened. He looked back at Ishita, whose eyes had grown damp though his voice stayed controlled.
"So that's why…" Rafiki murmured.
Ishita nodded faintly. "To Kubota-san, protecting this child… it's the same as protecting the family he couldn't save. He can't let another life slip away before his eyes. Not again."
The three men continued down the hallway in silence, but now Rafiki's heart was heavier, his steps slower. The medical room door loomed ahead—yet he already felt the child's existence pressing on him, as if fate itself was waiting behind that door.
....
As they reached the end of the hallway, Rafiki suddenly slowed. His steps grew heavy, his breath uneven.
There it was again—an eerie sensation, crawling up his spine. A presence so strange it chilled him, and yet… somehow, it was familiar. As though he had felt it before, long ago, in a place he could no longer recall.
His thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. What is this feeling? Why now?
"Rafiki-san," Kubota's voice cut gently through his daze, pulling him back. The mayor stood by the wooden door, his hand resting against it. "We're here. Shall we enter?"
Rafiki's jaw tightened, his eyes lingering on the door as if it hid something more than just a child. At last, he gave a small nod.
"…Yes."
The door creaked open.
The room was quiet, washed in the pale glow of morning light filtering through thin curtains. At the center, the boy lay on a modest bed—his breathing shallow, his skin fragile like porcelain, his tiny frame barely moving beneath the blanket.
Ishita walked forward first, his expression softening as he knelt at the boy's side. Without a word, he drew back the blanket, revealing the child's small chest. Then, placing his palm gently over the boy's heart, Ishita began to chant.
The air shifted.
A luminous circle of intricate symbols bloomed beneath his hand, glowing a deep, radiant blue. The lines spun and intertwined with mesmerizing grace, like rivers of starlight weaving into a single pattern.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath. The glow bathed the child in soft light, making his fragile form appear otherworldly, almost divine.
A gentle hum filled the air as the circle expanded, its symbols pulsing in rhythm with the boy's faint heartbeat. Then, with a surge of brilliance, the circle anchored itself against the child's chest, marking him with a glowing seal.
A pulse of heavy air swept outward—thick with energy, pressing against their lungs. The curtains shivered. The lantern flames wavered. And yet, within the storm of magic, the boy remained perfectly still, as though asleep in a world untouched.
Before them, floating in the air, numbers, and inscriptions unfolded—stats, readings, the truth of the child's body revealed.
Kubota exhaled slowly, awe glimmering in his tired eyes.
"No matter how many times I see it… Your identity skill always amazes me, Ishita. Such beauty… almost like a painting of the gods."
Rafiki crossed his arms, his gaze sharp on the glowing circle. His voice was low but steady.
"Agreed. For all the foolishness and arrogance you wear on your face… your control, your precision—it deserves respect."
Ishita glanced up, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. "Heh… Great Doctor, after all. What else did you expect?" His eyes flicked toward Rafiki, the grin widening.
Rafiki's brow twitched. His fist tightened at his side. He leaned forward slightly, the air between them growing tense, as though he might plant that fist straight into Ishita's smug face.
"Don't—" Kubota quickly raised a hand, stepping between them. His stern but gentle voice broke the tension. "Both of you. Not here. Not now."
The two men froze, glaring at each other like wolves held back by a thin leash.
Then Rafiki huffed through his nose, leaning back. Ishita chuckled under his breath, though his eyes softened again as he turned back to the child.
The blue glow still shimmered faintly against the boy's chest, the mysterious seal illuminating his fragile form. In that moment, none of them spoke. The weight of what they were about to learn pressed down heavier than the silence itself.
....
"Alright… let's set the bickering aside," Rafiki said at last, his voice steady, eyes fixed on the glowing inscriptions. "Let me check the stats myself."
He stepped forward, the quiet weight of his presence drawing Ishita and the mayor's eyes. Leaning slightly, he studied the floating words before him.
Lines of data shimmered in the blue glow—height, weight, age, pulse, mana flow—all neatly displayed. But where every living being's essence should have been marked, there was only an empty space.
Core: –
Rafiki's brows drew together, a shadow falling across his face. Empty. Impossible.
He straightened slowly, the glow of the circle painting his sharp features in pale light.
"As you can see…" Ishita spoke quietly, the playful smirk gone, replaced by grim honesty. "We couldn't find his core. No matter how many times I tried. And truth be told… we don't know what to do."
Silence. The mayor's hands tightened behind his back, his jaw stiff. He said nothing, but his sorrow weighed heavier than words.
Rafiki closed his eyes briefly, then exhaled through his nose.
"…The Identify skill is thorough, yes. But it only scratches the surface. It cannot dive deeper than what the body willingly reveals."
Ishita tilted his head, reluctant but agreeing. "I hate to admit it, but… that's a fact."
For a moment, the room felt heavy with hopelessness.
Then Rafiki opened his eyes again, his voice cutting through the silence like steel.
"Don't worry, Mayor. Leave this to me. I'll use my Analyse skill."
Kubota looked up quickly, startled. "But in order to use that… don't we need to cancel out Ishita's spell first?"
Rafiki shook his head, stepping closer to the child. His gaze never wavered.
"No. I won't erase it. Instead… I'll merge with it."
Ishita blinked, surprise flickering across his face. "Merge? You mean—overlay?"
Rafiki didn't answer. He simply raised his hand and pressed his palm against the glowing blue seal on the boy's chest.
The air tightened instantly.
A second circle ignited beneath his touch—this one crimson, intricate, alive with twisting symbols. Its glow was sharp, its hum resonant, as though the world itself recognized a higher authority.
The red circle spun and expanded, clashing with the blue. Sparks of mana snapped in the air. A sound like grinding gears, deep and metallic, echoed through the room—creak… clank… shhhk…—as if unseen machinery were rearranging itself inside the boy's very soul.
The circles pressed against each other, resisting, straining. The floor trembled. The lantern flames guttered low. Yet Rafiki's hand never faltered, his eyes locked with the magic as if commanding it by will alone.
Then—slowly—the two circles began to weave together. Red entwining with blue, carving new patterns, symbols overlapping to form something greater.
The light swelled until it painted the entire chamber in dazzling brilliance. The pressure in the air grew so heavy even breathing became a struggle, and yet none of them looked away.
Kubota's lips parted, breathless. "Unbelievable… to see two magics harmonize without clashing…!"
Ishita's eyes widened, a flicker of boyish excitement breaking through his composure. "He's… forging a dual matrix. Fusing Identify and Analyse into one spell. I didn't think that was even possible…"
At last, with a deep metallic clang, the circles locked together. The gears clicked into place. And the two once-separate magics now pulsed as one—an intricate seal of crimson and sapphire, spinning with perfect harmony over the boy's chest.
The air burst outward in a sudden wave, sweeping through the room like a stormwind. Curtains whipped against the walls. The candles flickered and flared. And in the heart of it all, the boy remained still, the mark of twin circles glowing upon him like a crest of fate.
Rafiki's hand fell back to his side. He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling with controlled calm. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that filled the room.
"…Now. We'll see the truth."
.....
"What was that!? When did u learn that???" Shockingly, Ishita asked Rafiki
The fused circle pulsed with steady light, throwing long shadows across the room. Rafiki's chest rose and fell heavily, beads of sweat trailing down his temple. His voice came hoarse but unwavering.
"I… haven't learned this before," he admitted between breaths. His dark eyes narrowed, still fixed on the magic crest. "I just… created it. Right now."
The words dropped like stones into a still pond.
Silence.
Ishita's mouth hung open, his normally playful expression shattered into disbelief.
"…Created it? Y–You mean this wasn't… studied? Practiced? Refined?"
Rafiki shook his head.
The silence thickened. For a moment, even the sound of nature outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the faint hum of the merged circles.
At last, Mayor Kubota broke the stillness, his voice low but reverent.
"…It was brilliant."
Rafiki gave a faint nod, though his eyes remained locked on the seal. His tone sharpened.
"Now—let's see what truth it shows."
He leaned closer. The twin circles brightened, and their symbols rearranged themselves, aligning into a perfect lattice of light. Then, slowly… a new shape emerged at the very heart of the boy's chest.
A crystal.
It hovered within the circle's glow, translucent yet solid, gleaming with an otherworldly brilliance. But unlike a normal core, it wasn't steady. It shifted, twisting in ways that defied the eye.
Shades swirled within it—white like moonlight, black like shadow, blue like the sea. One moment pure, the next corrupted, then fractured into colors beyond comprehension. The hues did not settle; they fought each other, clashing and intertwining as if the crystal itself carried countless souls within.
All three of them froze. Their breath caught in their throats.
"This…" Ishita whispered, his voice trembling, his usual composure stripped away. "This isn't a core. It's… something else."
Mayor Kubota's hands trembled at his sides, his eyes glassy with a mix of fear and awe. "How… how can such a thing even exist?"
Rafiki said nothing. His face was unreadable, but deep in his gaze, there was a shadow—recognition, perhaps, or dread. He had seen countless cores in his life, from peasants to kings, from warriors to demons… but never anything like this.
The crystal pulsed once.
The room shook as if in response, the candles flickering violently. For a heartbeat, it felt as though the boy's chest contained not just a crystal—but an entire storm.
Then, just as suddenly, it stilled. The colors settled into an indistinct swirl, calm but ominous, like an ocean hiding its monsters beneath.
The three men stood in silence, staring at the boy.
What was he?
What future would this child bring?
And what horrors would awaken when the crystal revealed its true nature?
No one spoke, for there were no words.
They simply stared at the boy, the faint glow of the crystal's light reflecting in their eyes… as outside, thunder rolled, shaking the world like an omen.
In that moment, all three of them knew—whatever this child was, he was no ordinary human. And the fate of their world had already begun to turn with his breath.