He let out a long sigh. "Ahh... why is polishing shoes so boring?" he muttered, rubbing a worn shoe until his own tired reflection stared back at him. He wore a dark blue shirt soaked in sweat, its fabric worn thin from years of use.
This was how it had always been for him, growing up in the slums, living in the heart of danger. Everyone else had the Blessing of the moon. Everyone except him. For someone like him, even the smallest fight could mean death.
"Hey, Alrios! Don't lose focus," the shop owner warned from across the counter. "You want to get paid, don't you?"
He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yes... sorry."
Alrios was paid by having a roof over his head, so he could not afford to slack off. He worked just to stay alive. As he set the pair of shoes on the shelf, he wondered if he could ever escape the slums and live a better life. People without Blessings were unheard of, and yet he had none.
Even if he somehow escaped poverty, a single Moonphaser could kill him in an instant. They were blessed with abilities beyond human capability. Compared to them, he was just a bug standing before a giant.
"So, Mr. Flores," he asked quietly, "do you think I could ever get out of the slums?"
Flores chuckled faintly. "You've got some long years ahead, kid. Even if you don't get out, at least you'll get used to it."
Alrios frowned. Get used to it? How could anyone get used to this damned place? He wanted to go against fate itself, to end this vicious cycle of suffering. But instead, he forced a faint smile and said, "Oh... I see."
Hours passed. The sun dipped low, and evening painted the slums in shades of rust and ash. Just as Alrios bent to grab another pair of shoes, a loud knock hammered the shop door. A second later, the wood splintered open, torn apart by a long, sturdy rapier marked with the emblem of the Full Knights.
Of course, the men who came in were nothing like knights.
Alrios took a step back, his heart pounding. He wasn't used to seeing weapons up close, at least not ones that sharp. The smell of steel and sweat filled the air. He could feel the danger before a word was even spoken.
"Yo, old man," one of them sneered, pressing the glowing azure blade he had summoned with his Blessing toward the owner. "You missed your payments for this crappy shop. Where's our money, huh?"
Flores, the shop owner, was a thin, middle-aged man with trembling hands. He didn't have any useful Moon Blessing, which was exactly why he was stuck in the slums.
He lowered his gaze and whispered, "I promise I'll pay by next week. Please don't do anything."
All three of them burst into laughter.
"Didn't you say that last time?" one of them mocked.
A moment later, two of the men lunged forward, grabbing both Flores and Alrios. The third stayed back, slow and smiling, as he drew a knife from his belt. Its edge shimmered unnaturally sharp under the moonlight, enhanced by his Blessing.
"Hey, Flores," the knife-holder said, his voice cold, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Want to see your precious helper get hurt?"
Flores was helpless. He clenched his fists. If he screamed, both of them would die. The only thing he could do was comply.
"Please... don't," he said, his voice shaking.
Then the man holding Alrios began slicing shallow cuts across the inside of his palm. Blood started to drip from his hand, warm and steady. The pain was unbearable. Alrios clenched his jaw and tried to scream, but no sound came out. Only breath and rage.
He shut his eyes, begging it to stop. But suddenly, the pain vanished.
When he opened his eyes again, the world was gone. Everything was black.
In the distance, a figure stood waiting, its back turned toward him. He was scared. Where was he? The air felt heavier with every breath, pressing against his chest. Still, something, some strange pull, urged him forward. As he stepped closer, the figure's outline became clearer. It was massive, at least three meters tall. Fear gripped him, yet his body kept moving.
"Fuck... why am I even getting closer to that thing?" he muttered.
The moment his words left his mouth, the figure turned to face him. It had no face. Nothing even remotely human.
Then, a soundless voice erupted inside his mind. It was telepathic and overwhelming, drowning out all thought.
<[You have met one of the conditions.]>
<[You are not ready.]>
<[One of the Forbidden Seals has been broken.]>