Shawn and Rohan sat at the rickety wooden table inside Tycen's cramped hideout. Tycen sat across from them, the young child from the rooftops clinging defensively to his lap.
Shawn's eyes drifted across the room, taking in the reality of the space. The house was practically crumbling. The roof was full of holes, the worn-out walls looked like they would collapse with a single punch, and the thin blankets spread across the cold floor served as beds.
Beside him, Shawn noticed Rohan staring at Tycen. Rohan's eyes were heavy with a quiet, aching longing—a look of profound pity and sorrow that he didn't even try to hide.
"What?!" Tycen snapped, slamming his hand on the table. "What's with that look of pity? Tell me what you want so you can pack up your things and scram!"
"Well," Shawn hesitated, glancing at the other orphans huddling behind Tycen's chair. He couldn't speak freely about the BND Academy's classified operations in front of civilians. "I can't really say it out loud while they're here. It's a matter of rules."
"They're my family," Tycen growled, tightening his grip on the child. "They can know everything I know. If you don't want to talk, then you can leave." He began to stand up to usher them out.
"Sit back down, Tycen," Rohan said. His voice wasn't loud, but it dropped into a low, terrifyingly calm register that caused the air in the room to instantly freeze. "You already know what we are capable of. We are not here to negotiate with you."
Tycen stiffened. After a tense, silent staring contest, he reluctantly sank back into his chair. He signaled to the older kids. "Go outside for a minute."
Once the door clicked shut, Tycen crossed his arms. "So. What do you want?"
"We're here to help you. We aren't your enemies," Shawn began, but Tycen only offered a cynical smirk. Shawn leaned forward, choosing to get straight to the point. "Can you show us your mark?"
"What mark? I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Before Tycen could pull away, Shawn reached across the table, firmly grabbing his collar and sliding down the fabric of his shirt. There, glowing faintly just above his chest on his shoulder, was the intricate emblem.
"I knew it," Shawn said triumphantly. "I saw it flash when you used your power against me. Come home with us, Tycen. You're one of the chosen mages of the Deity. Just like us." To prove his point, Shawn unbuttoned his own shirt to reveal the earth symbol on his waist, then reached over and pulled Rohan's collar aside to reveal his.
Tycen stared at the marks, his expression hardening. "Home? And where exactly is that?"
"BND Academy. It's a government sanctuary that gathers children with mana to protect them from the outside world."
The moment the word government left Shawn's mouth, Tycen's face contorted with absolute rage. He slammed his fists down so hard the wooden table snapped cleanly in half.
"Hah! So you're just a couple of government dogs!" Tycen hissed, his eyes flashing dangerous red. "You want to lock me up in some academy cage so you can train me and sell me off to the highest bidder? You think I'm a fool? Get out of here before I burn this place to the ground with you in it!"
Tycen lunged forward, physically shoving Shawn and Rohan toward the door. Realizing that fighting him now would only make things worse, Rohan caught Shawn's shoulder. "Let's go back to the inn for tonight, Shawn. We will try again tomorrow morning."
Back at the inn, Shawn paced the floor, desperately trying to figure out how to crack Tycen's stubborn shell.
Meanwhile, across the slums, Tycen lay awake staring at the ceiling. His chest ached with a strange, heavy pressure. The presence of those two mages had stirred something deep inside him—a nagging, instinctual feeling that he had been waiting for them for a very long time. It felt like if he let them walk away, he would lose a part of his own soul.
The next morning, the fragile peace shattered.
"Boss! Boss, wake up!" One of Tycen's older boys burst through the door, panting and covered in dirt. "Mari and Kiki are gone! Someone saw the Governor's enforcers dragging them out of the alley!"
Tycen was on his feet instantly, his blood turning to ice. "What? That f*cking Governor again. How many of our kids is she going to take? Gather everyone. We're tearing that palace apart."
Driven by pure desperation, Tycen and a dozen of his strongest men marched straight to the Governor's estate. But they walked right into a slaughter.
The Governor hadn't just brought ordinary guards; she had hired private, high-level mana users. It wasn't a fight—it was a trap. One by one, Tycen's men were brought to their knees. Beat up, bleeding, and entirely outmatched, Tycen forced himself to stand, his fire flickering weakly.
A shadow stepped out from the guards. "Give up, little monster," the Governor's voice echoed across the courtyard. "Surrender yourself to the cells, or I will execution the children inside right now."
Looking at the locked doors of the palace, Tycen lowered his fists. He let the guards shackle his wrists, letting out a breath as they dragged him into the dark.
When Shawn and Rohan arrived at the hideout an hour later, the shacks were completely abandoned. Just as panic began to set in, the young child who had stolen Shawn's wallet came sprinting around the corner, tears streaming down his face.
"Help! Please, mister, help Brother Tycen!" the boy sobbed, grabbing the hem of Shawn's jacket.
"What happened to him?" Shawn demanded, kneeling down.
"The Governor's men got him! They took Mari and Kiki, and Brother Tycen went to save them but it was a trap! Please, you have to help him or they're going to kill him!"
Shawn and Rohan exchanged a single, grim look. Without a word, they sprinted toward the towering gates of the Governor's palace. Slipping past the outer perimeter, they split up, moving through the massive estate to locate the cells.
Shawn navigated the winding, sterile corridors until he reached a heavily reinforced door leading into a subterranean bunker. He kicked it open and stepped into a dark, freezing room.
In the center, suspended by heavy iron chains attached to the ceiling, was a silhouette.
"Tycen!" Shawn ran forward, his heart dropping into his stomach.
Tycen was completely unresponsive, hanging limply from the cuffs. His lips were split and dripping with fresh blood, one eye was swollen entirely shut, and deep purple bruises covered his face and torn clothing.
"Tycen... who did this to you? Hold on, let me get these off." Shawn's hands shook with panic. Seeing Tycen like this triggered an overwhelming wave of fury inside him—a raw, protective instinct that made it feel like a member of his own blood family had been brutalized.
"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."
A sharp, mocking female voice echoed from the shadows. The distinct crack of a leather whip echoed against the concrete walls. Shawn immediately spun around, dropping into a defensive combat stance as his Earth mana flared to life.
When the flickering overhead light finally illuminated the woman's face, Shawn froze in absolute shock. He recognized her instantly. He had seen her face on countless news broadcasts and sat across from her during official government compliance conferences in his role as Student President.
"It's you..." Shawn breathed, his mind racing. "Why are you doing this? You're the Governor of the East! You know the laws—all registered mages are protected under the national mandate. What you're doing here is completely illegal!"
The woman let out a cruel, booming laugh, trailing her whip along the floor. "Oh, look at the righteous BND Student President. Tell me, boy, what are you doing all the way out here instead of playing hall monitor at your little school?"
"I'm going to report this to the high command," Shawn spat, his eyes glowing green. "You won't get away with this."
"Are you sure about that?" The Governor smirked, stepping closer. She showed no fear of his magic. She stopped just inches away, reaching out to catch Shawn's chin between her fingers. Her grip was tight as she leaned in, her breath cold against his ear.
"I think you're fighting on the wrong side, son," she whispered maliciously. "Why are you wasting your precious breath protecting a monster? Do you even know who he is? This trash killed hundreds of people... he even burned alive the very mother who gave birth to him."
Shawn's breath hitched. His eyes widened as he looked past her toward the chains.
Upon hearing the words, Tycen's limp form suddenly convulsed. A guttural, agonizing scream tore from his throat as he thrashed against the iron links, his eyes opening into a blind, furious red. But the chains held fast, digging deeper into his bleeding wrists.
"What do you mean by that?" Shawn whispered, his stomach turning as he looked between the Governor's cruel smile and Tycen's desperate, broken face. "What did he do?"