Tossing and turning on a hospital bed, Izumi pressed the back of his head into the pillow and swallowed hard. He stopped to think—yet his mind was seized by a single phrase that had become an irritation.
The sea is your north…
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus.
But whenever he tried to think of anything else, that sentence flooded his mind.
'What the hell…' Izumi thought, interlacing his fingers over his heart.
The sea is your north…
For some teenagers, becoming a Sefira was a tremendous pleasure—after all, the DSSP offered high pay. Not to mention external contracts, which turned heroes into true celebrities.
But for others, it was hell…
Izumi had planned to attend a good university; to dedicate himself, land a position at a major company, and eventually become a department manager.
However, he could already throw all those years of preparation in the trash. Once Revealed by the Archangels, they would never allow someone destined for greatness to live as a normal human.
Izumi had to accept that fact—just like his Burden: blindness.
For someone who used to observe everything, seeing nothing at all was an insult.
He clenched his teeth and grabbed his shirt.
"You're awake, aren't you? Even with your eyes closed…" said Doctor Rosmond, opening the door abruptly.
"Ah…" Izumi muttered, startled.
The sea is your north…
A sharp pain throbbed at the left side of the boy's head.
"There's no way I can sleep. Keeping my eyes open doesn't change anything, so…" he complained, his voice gentle.
"Indeed…" Rosmond laughed awkwardly. "I'd be happy if you could take a walk with me around the area. Are you up for it?"
Trying to adjust himself with a cane, Izumi descended the steps at the front entrance of the DSSP. A day had passed since the Wave of Revelation had struck new Revealed.
The storm from the previous day became known as the Omen; in addition to the Wave of Revelation, a Qlipoth Seed had been located by the German Association.
The chaotic scenery was slowly changing.
The lawn and trees in the square were still heavy with raindrops, but the burning sun made that morning feel lighter.
At first, Doctor Rosmond had been a bit irritated by Izumi's stubbornness: instead of using the cane to guide himself, he was using it merely as support.
But that wasn't the issue…
After much insistence, the boy guided himself perfectly and began to keep pace with the doctor.
"Many children train their entire lives. Parents spend thousands of dollars, bet on specific bloodlines, arrange marriages, and form families with a single goal…" Rosmond said, watching Izumi's steps. "To become Sefiras."
In silence, Izumi simply listened.
"Yet none of that influences the Revelation. The Archangels decide; we obey… In truth, Revelation is a form of trust the angels place in us. A responsibility. Tell me, young Izumi—what responsibility do you carry that drew the attention of the angels?"
With his head lowered, Izumi answered, "None… Maybe a bitter fate, or a heroic ending? All destinies—Sefira or not—lead us to death…"
"Are you afraid of dying young? Is that why you hate Sefiras?" Rosmond asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
"No. I used to idolize them… I read all of my father's mission records—he was incredible. But my view changed after the Fall of Paris. That event made me lose what little hope I had left in all Sefiras."
"You began to see them as a kind of anti-heroes?"
Processing it in silence, Izumi wasn't sure if that truly matched his thoughts.
"It's not fair to say there's no difference between demons and Sefiras, since we're still human. But the actions of the Revealed over the last decade are—"
"Detestable, we know. The new generation realized that risking their lives as heroes wasn't enough. Ever since the fame of Sefiras surpassed that of celebrities like football players, ego has come before ruin… That was our fear—the fear of the older generations."
"That's why my father retired…"
Rosmond was surprised. As a veteran doctor who had been present during expeditions into the Domains, he knew the reputation Izami Kairen carried.
Still, Rosmond had always believed Izami retired due to age or inability to fight; the main reason was Izumi's birth, when Izami chose to raise his son.
The second reason…
The new generation showed no respect whatsoever to veterans.
"We distinguish the old and new generations of Sefiras as if they were two different races, because the ideology changed… Before, we worshiped God and consecrated the Archangels. Nowadays… The only divinity is money and the fame that comes from killing demons…" Rosmond said, disappointed.
"Do you understand, Doctor Rosmond, why I'm so disillusioned?"
Izumi clearly didn't want to be considered part of that group.
But the next question, raised by Rosmond, struck at the pride that fueled his hatred toward the 'current false Saints'…
"Are you the same as them, Mr. Kairen?"
Izumi's cane struck a step, stopping his movement; his body froze as well. It was a simple line of reasoning—yet one that had never crossed his mind.
"Hating Sefiras doesn't mean you have to be like the current ones. If you respect the old generation so much, be inspired by them… You don't need to be the same—much less the opposite. Just be yourself, young man."
Izumi swallowed hard.
Then he laughed nervously.
"You make a good point. But…" he said hesitantly, before being interrupted.
"But that's not why you hate them. Isn't that right? Of course it isn't… If it were that simple, your Burden wouldn't be so demanding."
Nodding, Izumi agreed while biting his lip. A melancholic expression quickly shifted as he realized a set of walls was blocking the wind from reaching him.
Then Rosmond opened a wooden door, which creaked like any other.
"When you understand why you're being tested by the Archangels, you'll become a worthy Saint. Understand yourself to understand the world…"
Rosmond took Izumi's left hand and guided him into a house; the floor was wooden, judging by the sound beneath their steps.
There was an almost absolute silence…
Yet merely thinking about that silence made Izumi bitterly regret it.
"You idiots! Where's my hair dryer?!" a female voice screamed from upstairs.
Crossing his arms after closing the door, Rosmond growled in discomfort.
"Before you ask… This will be your team while you go through the Revelation…"
"Erik! Where's my hair dryer?!"
Half a second later, the bang of a slamming door echoed through the house.
"How the hell would I know?! You don't take care of your stuff and I'm the one to blame?!" a male voice snapped back.
Sitting on a sofa beside Izumi was a tall young man—much bigger than Kairen himself. He was blond, wore round glasses over blue eyes, and had on a gray-and-white suit.
His posture was awkward, sprawled halfway between the sofa and the television.
"Erik… new member," Rosmond said, making the young man turn around.
Leaning his head over his shoulder, Erik saw Izumi standing by the door; a bead of sweat ran down his face.
"Oh—" Erik muttered, sliding off the sofa and standing up quickly.
Walking around the sofa, he shouted toward the second floor:
"We've got a new member in the house! Stop yelling and introduce yourselves in five minutes!"
"What?! Why didn't you tell us an hour ago?!" the girl upstairs complained, her voice drowned out by the noise of a hair dryer.
"My deepest apologies… It's a mess today. I'm Erik Von Berta, son of the Berta family from Belgium. It's a pleasure to meet you." Erik introduced himself, extending his hand—then paused for a few seconds, pointing at nothing.
"Izumi Kairen, member of one of the five great Asian clans. The pleasure is mine…"
Taking Izumi's hand, Rosmond guided him to shake Erik's.
With his left hand, the doctor covered Izumi's eyes while Erik looked at him; the young man from the Berta family quickly understood the situation and silently lamented it.
"I hope we get along, Izumi. And… well—welcome to the biggest mess of your life."