The streets of the slums were already fading into the night when Aeren returned to his quarters in the Verdan estate. His mind was not on the day's work, but on the faces he had decided to claim for his future experiments. Three in particular stood out.
The first was a child—blind, yet strangely perceptive—named Lira. She was unlike the others: her head tilted slightly when she listened, as if she could hear something no one else could. There was a flicker of worry in her expression whenever she noticed him, and that alone made her… special.
The second was Seren, a woman in her twenties whose control over mana was natural and fluid. He could not sense mana himself, but watching her fight had told him enough—her skill was above most in the slums.
The third, Verric, was also in his twenties, his talent weaker than Seren's but still present. Where Seren fought with precision, Verric fought with raw endurance. That, too, had its uses.
These three, in Aeren's mind, were already his. But there was a more pressing problem than acquiring them—he had no proper place to begin his work.
---
Aeren leaned back in his chair, the flickering candle casting long shadows across the room.
The lab was his greatest obstacle. There was a building on the edge of the slums, abandoned and feared by locals. No one would tell him exactly why. Whispers of screams, strange smells, and vanishing people had circulated in hushed tones, but nothing concrete.
Perfect on the surface—but Aeren never acted on impulse. He had to know exactly why people avoided it, how dangerous it might be, and whether anyone still monitored the place. If it was truly abandoned, he could operate without interruption.
He needed the lab urgently. Mana absorption was making him stronger, yes, but it was tearing his insides apart with every use. Pain was a constant companion, his body pushed to its limits each time he drew in too much. More than once over the past months, his organs had given way entirely, and the recovery was slow and costly.
If he didn't solve this soon, it would only be a matter of time before his body failed him entirely.
---
Over the last three months, he had quietly explored the territory outside the slums. He did not yet have a full understanding of Verdan's lands, but he had learned enough—how the guard rotations worked, which districts were neglected, and where prying eyes seldom looked.
If the lab problem was solved, he could carry out experiments in peace.
And his research would not be limited to humans. Monsters, too, had properties worth studying—particularly if their traits could be used to mend his current weakness.
A sharp rap on the door broke his train of thought.
---
Aeren rose and opened it to find Maren, the young maid who had first welcomed him months ago. Her brown hair was tied neatly, and her expression softened when she saw him.
"Working late again?" she asked lightly, stepping inside without waiting for permission. "You're going to end up as thin as a rake if you keep skipping meals. Come on, I can't have the other staff thinking I let you starve."
Her tone was warm—like an older sister teasing her younger sibling.
Aeren listened quietly, his expression unreadable. While she spoke, a thought flickered in the back of his mind. Maren had a good build, a healthy body, and no signs of magical training, but her vitality was obvious. She could, in time, make a fine test subject… but she was a maid of the Verdan household, and acting carelessly would be foolish.
"What is it?" Maren tilted her head when he didn't reply.
"Nothing," Aeren said evenly.
"Mm." She didn't seem convinced but continued anyway. "The lord is calling for you. He wants to meet. So, hurry up—don't make him wait."
Aeren nodded once. They left the room together, Maren chatting idly about the day's work while Aeren kept his thoughts to himself.
---
Meanwhile, in the Slums
In a dim corner of the slums, Lira sat cross-legged, eating bread a younger child had given her earlier. Though her eyes were clouded white, she saw the world in her own way—not through sight, but through mana. Everyone's mana had a color, a movement, a presence.
She remembered Aeren. His presence was different—like an assassin's, empty and silent, impossible to read. For someone like her, who could see every thread of mana around her, that absence was both unsettling and fascinating.
She had not been in the slums long. Her family had abandoned her when she went blind, casting her out as a burden. Now, the other children circled her like vultures.
"Hey, Lira," one boy sneered, "share that bread."
"I won't," she said quietly.
"Tch. Think you're better than us?" another boy stepped closer. "Hand it over, blind girl."
When she didn't move, they shoved her. The bread fell into the dirt. One reached down to snatch it, but a firm, calm voice cut through the noise.
"Leave her alone."
The boys turned. A youth stood there—simple clothes, dark hair, nothing extraordinary at first glance. But his presence was sharp, and his eyes unwavering.
"What's it to you?" one of the boys spat.
"Last warning." His tone was quiet, but it carried weight. The bullies laughed—until, in a blur, they were on the ground, clutching their bruises.
He knelt to Lira's level. "Are you hurt?"
She said nothing, merely tilting her head toward him. His mana was unlike any she had seen—bright, steady, and warm, almost drawing her toward it. Others nearby stared too, caught by that same pull.
"You don't have to live here," he said, voice low but certain. "This isn't the place for you."
"I'm blind," she replied flatly.
"That doesn't matter." A faint smile touched his lips. "I can see something in you—a strength that could help others. Come with me. We'll save more people like you."
Lira's brow furrowed. His words were sincere; she could feel it. She could sense emotions, and his were unguarded—clear, genuine. Aeren's had been a void by comparison, unreadable.
She thought of both of them. Then, slowly, she nodded