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The sun had not yet fully risen over the mist-covered streets of Menas. The haze gathered on the rooftops draped the entire city in a gray veil. The occasional echo of footsteps and the distant creak of carriage wheels slipping into the silence made it clear—this morning was not an ordinary one. Kaelen stood before the iron doors of the shelter, hands buried in the pockets of his coat.
The collar of his black coat was pulled up to his neck. Fatigue from sleepless nights lingered on his face, yet beneath it burned a quiet curiosity. An instinct told him that today, they would learn the truth about what was happening in this city.
Estelle stood a few steps away, silent as always. Her gaze swept across the buildings swallowed by the morning fog. Kaelen glanced at her and gave a brief nod, but received no response. Still, the silence was something he had grown used to.
At that moment, a long, angular black limousine pulled up beside them without a sound. Its windows were tinted, thin trails of exhaust smoke carving faint lines into the air. The first to step out, as always, was Derick. His navy-blue Council coat, paired with the silver brooch at his collar, set him apart from everyone else. His sharp features looked even more resolute this morning.
"Ready?" he asked, his eyes resting briefly on Estelle, then Kaelen.
Kaelen nodded. "We are."
Derick opened the door, and the three of them got in together. As the vehicle began to move, Derick gave them a brief summary.
"In the past month, seven people have been abducted. There's no obvious connection—age, occupation, district, none of it matters. But they all return a few days later… with their memories erased."
Estelle spoke for the first time.
"They don't remember anything at all?"
"No. Their memories aren't lost—they're erased. As if someone deliberately scraped out specific parts."
Kaelen fixed his gaze on the streets passing by outside. There was no victim who could answer the question Who took you? That made it even stranger.
"How long has this been happening?"
"About two weeks now. Random individuals. At first, it was assumed they were taken over debts or minor disputes. But then… the abducted people started coming back."
"…Technically, this isn't considered an abduction," Kaelen said slowly. "Couldn't they have just wandered off?"
Derick exhaled. "That's the strange part. Never mind—you'll understand better once you see it yourselves."
Their first stop was the home of a baker named Azra. The elderly woman smiled warmly, but there was an emptiness in her eyes. Her son had been missing for three days. When he returned, he was like a stranger. He remembered neither baking nor his mother. He sat in his room, staring at the wall. At night, he cried without speaking—sometimes even forgetting his own name.
The second victim was a young street musician. Those who knew him said he had completely forgotten how to sing. His hands trembled when he held an instrument, and he showed no reaction to his former companions.
Kaelen spoke with each of them. What caught his attention wasn't what they said—but what was missing from their words. Every one of them admitted to experiencing a "gap." One moment, nothing—then suddenly finding themselves at home or in a familiar place. Kaelen sensed a deep unease in their eyes, as if something that belonged to them had been torn away.
In his former life, Kaelen had often heard whispers of a creature called the Ghost of Menas. A legend that had existed for nearly fifteen years—dangerous even in his previous era. He knew nothing of what the creature truly was. The continent had been destroyed, and he'd never had time to wander the ruins of a city as broken as Menas.
That afternoon, Derick was summoned to a Council meeting.
Kaelen noticed how tense he sounded during the call.
When it ended, Derick turned to Kaelen and Estelle.
"I think this is where we split up. Handle things on your own for now. This area is considered relatively safe."
"Is there a problem?" Estelle asked flatly.
"Nothing that concerns you—but I can't take you with me. Wait for me at the shelter entrance at 7 p.m. It would be best if you headed back now. Menas may be sinking into something far bigger than I anticipated."
With that, Derick left.
Kaelen and Estelle were left alone among the old stone buildings. Though Derick had warned them to stay out of trouble, Kaelen's plans were very different.
While Estelle stayed focused on the mission, jotting down notes, Kaelen's instincts pulled him elsewhere. That feeling at the corner of the street… someone was watching them. He extended his mana like a thread, probing the surroundings.
At first, he wasn't certain. Then he noticed it—the same gray-coated silhouette, appearing at three different points along their path. That wasn't coincidence.
Kaelen coughed twice. Estelle merely gave a slight nod, saying nothing. Without a word, Kaelen turned into the back alleys. Moments later, he passed beneath a dim underpass beneath a bridge.
His mana manipulation shifted into Kai Form, erasing his presence.
Estelle was acting as bait.
He stabilized his mana core. The air fell silent for a few seconds. Then Kaelen moved—leaving behind barely a trace, slipping along alley walls, circling back to follow those who had been following them.
The pursuit lasted several streets. One of the watchers broke off, trying to determine Kaelen's position, while the other continued tailing Estelle.
Eventually, they entered an abandoned workshop.
Kaelen hid among the shadows inside. Three figures gathered together. They wore no armor, only strange garments dyed in vivid colors.
Their hand signals, careful movements, and alert gazes made it clear—they weren't ordinary thugs.
Sprayed onto one of the walls was an emblem: a steel nail driven into a claw mark. Beneath it, a phrase written in small letters:
"For the silent city, speaking fists."
Kaelen frowned. Ironclaw.
He searched his memory—but knew nothing about them.
An underground group working for Menas's lower class, unofficial and unrecognized. That would have been his first guess.
He moved closer to listen.
"There are five of them. Not three."
He barely heard the footsteps behind him.
Too late.
Kaelen rolled away as a knife slammed into the ground.
"An outsider!" someone shouted.
"Well… I've been caught," Kaelen muttered. "Clumsily, too."
He grabbed the attacker's arm, threw him aside, and struck once—clean and precise—knocking him unconscious. The others moved into position.
But Kaelen was already among them.
A blow to one knee. An elbow to another's face. When he slammed the last man into the wall, silence returned.
He steadied his breathing and looked down at the bodies.
They couldn't use mana. They knew only a few basic combat techniques—insignificant against someone like Kaelen.
A notebook slipped from one of their pockets. Kaelen picked it up. Inside were crude maps—homes of the victims marked carefully.
Kaelen narrowed his eyes.
So you're aware of the disappearances too.
He straightened.
A voice echoed behind him.
"Find anything?"
It was Estelle.
The red-haired girl was holding the unconscious body of the one who had followed her.
"Not exactly," Kaelen replied. "I should've left one of them awake. Since I knocked them all out, we'll have to question whoever wakes up first."
Estelle lowered her head slightly, then struck the unconscious youth with her mana in Enn Form. Pure mana surged through his body—not lethal, but even Kaelen questioned the humanity of it.
The body jolted violently, consciousness snapping back. The boy's eyes locked onto the two young mages standing before him.
He seemed disoriented, struggling to focus through a sudden headache. Estelle raised her hand again—but Kaelen stopped her.
"Hey, hey—easy! You'll knock him out again."
Estelle released the boy and began tying up the other five men Kaelen had taken down.
Sometimes, Kaelen felt she had serious issues. Who in their right mind sent someone like her on operations like this? She needed to be locked up in an asylum—immediately.
Kaelen turned to the black-haired boy in front of him and smiled.
His teeth showed like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Alright then," he said softly.
"Let's have a little chat."