The professor removed his goggles, revealing eyes that carried a distant, hollow look, and began to speak in a quiet, heavy tone.
"Twenty-four years ago... I was in the army. I held the rank of sergeant—the leader of a special unit. My team was... different. I don't think I told you this before, Harry, but I have the ability to track heat signatures. That's why I was chosen to lead." He paused for a moment, as if recalling faces long gone.
"There were three others in my squad. The first was an assassin—silent, precise, deadly. The second was a Stonewarden named Garry; his defensive abilities were unmatched. And the last... was our support mage, Jena. She kept us alive when no one else could."
A faint, bitter smile crossed his face. "We were assigned to a security unit. Our duty was simple—protect critical areas of the army camp. But one day... everything changed. Our neighboring country sent operatives to steal classified information. They succeeded."
His fingers tightened slightly around his coffee cup.
"We were ordered to chase them. It was a long pursuit, deep into the night. Thanks to my ability, I was able to track their heat signatures even in complete darkness. We thought we had them cornered when they entered an old army building." His voice dropped to a whisper. "We followed them inside... and walked straight into an ambush."
He looked away, staring blankly into the corner of the cafe.
"It was all planned. Perfectly. Someone from our side had sold information—our patrol routes... even our specific abilities. They were waiting for us. Eight enemies, hidden in the shadows. I pushed my ability to its absolute limits, trying to locate every single one of them. But it didn't matter. They were ready. They triggered explosives, and the entire building came crashing down on us."
His voice trembled slightly now.
"Garry tried to hold the structure together with everything he had. Jena created a water barrier to protect us... but it wasn't enough. Everything... just collapsed. I don't know how much time passed after that. When I finally woke up, I couldn't see anything." His hand moved subconsciously toward his eyes. "The darkness was permanent."
"An officer came to my bedside and said, *'Sir, two of your teammates are dead. We're sorry for your loss.'*" His voice cracked slightly. "Noel—the assassin... gone. Jena... gone. Garry survived, but his spine was shattered. The lower half of his body was completely paralyzed. And me?"
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped him.
"I lost my eyesight from overusing my ability in those final seconds. I was furious. I wrote to the higher authorities, demanding an investigation. That building was inside our own army's boundary... how could no one detect an enemy presence there?"
He turned his face slightly toward Harry. "Do you know what they did? They discharged me. Their reason? They claimed I was mentally unstable—that the trauma had made me delusional."
His tone suddenly hardened, losing its tremor and replacing it with a cold steel.
"Let me tell you something, Harry... in this world, there are demons wearing human skin. And many of them sit in positions of power."
A long, heavy silence stretched between them.
"I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. That's why... I'm helping you," the professor said, leaning back in his chair as his voice began to fade. "We were together for thirty years, Harry. From school, to training, to the battlefield. Now... only Garry and I remain. We didn't just lose our teammates that day. We lost our will to keep going."
Harry sat there in absolute silence, completely stunned.
This was the first time he had ever been confronted with such a cruel side of the world—the raw reality of betrayal, corruption, and the helplessness of truth being buried by those in power. If the government could manipulate the army so easily and erase a whole squad's sacrifice... then his school was nothing more than a small, insignificant piece in a much larger, darker game.
The weight of the thought made his face turn pale.