"Nobody knows," she said, voice unsteady. "It showed up a few days ago with a rumble so strong the whole mountain shook, and even the ghosts over there were wailing loud enough to be heard in the city. No one knows where the formation leads, because the ancient ruins have already been explored for years. But the array masters think its appearance means a new, hidden region has opened up inside the ruins — one only the younger generation can access."
Kelly lifted a brow. "And how exactly do they know it's for the younger generation when the seal still blocks everyone?"
The waitress waved her hands. "Oh, you'd feel it. One look at the formation and if you're not qualified, it just… feels wrong. Like it's warning you to stay away." She paused, remembering something.
"Speaking of, there's a video trending in the virtual space — some pure-blood girl using a Celestial Sentinel's signature move to create lifeforms. Nobody knows her real realm, but people think she's a late-stage Dust Wielder." The waitress snorted.
"She might show up at the ruins. Someone swore they saw her buying the region map. All the great families are losing their minds over her, and Dravis even sent her a personal invite online. Can you believe that? Even Dravis falling for her little tricks, that attention-seeking—"
Kelly stood up and walked away before she could finish.
"Hey! That's rude!"
The waitress' voice followed her, but she clearly had no idea how close she'd been to getting her face punched.
Kelly stepped out of the hazy, intoxicating tavern and into the street, where the world was still loud with traffic and people. A light breeze tugged at her clothes.
She stretched her arms out and started down the road, scanning for a hotel to crash in for the night.
***
Yulvaris entered a restaurant, not because she was hungry, but because she had no idea what else to do with the little "freedom" she'd been given. She knew what the human offered her wasn't real freedom — just the illusion of it. Still, she was smart enough to accept it over nothing.
She sat at a table and watched families eating together, smiling wide while their children argued and bickered over food. At other tables, boys and girls sat in pairs, the atmosphere dripping with awkward romance as more than half the boys tried to impress their dates with empty words and smooth lies — and the girls blushed like idiots.
She could tell every time they lied, just from the rhythm of their hearts. For her, sensing things like that was as natural as breathing.
But even if she hated to admit it, watching something this simple was… refreshing. It was a break from the life she knew — war, blood, and political games where every move had to be calculated before it was made.
Eventually bored, she left the restaurant, blinking into existence in front of a random house at the end of the avenue. She stood still, staring through the window, watching a group of girls stay up late, playing games, buried in pillows and laughter.
At first, she found it ridiculous. At their age, she'd already been thrown onto battlefields, fighting horrifying beasts with nothing but a crude spear and scraps of cloth. Every day had been a fight to survive — adapt or be torn apart.
Yet as she watched them giggle over pink teddies and throw pillows around, a strange feeling crept over her…
Something dangerously close to jealousy.
Not wanting to stay a second longer, she vanished and reappeared in a busy district full of shops and stalls. She walked forward, the soft scent of mint drifting through the air.
Walking down the street, she stopped when she noticed a boy being beaten by a group of men, an old blind woman beside him, begging through tears.
What caught her attention wasn't the violence — it was the boy. No matter how hard they hit him, he didn't flinch, didn't cry. It was like this wasn't new to him. As if he'd survived far worse.
"You thieving vagabond!" one of the men shouted, rage twisting his face as he kicked the boy in the stomach again. "You dare steal from me? Trash!"
The others joined in, grinning like they were enjoying a fun pastime instead of a beating.
Maybe it was boredom, or maybe there was no reason at all — but Yulvaris found herself walking toward them anyway. She stopped in front of the men, eyes empty, and spoke two words.
Two simple words — enough to compel the heads of three weakling trash.
"Get out."
The three men stumbled away like puppets whose strings had been cut, eyes blank. The boy looked up, swollen and bruised, and Yulvaris dropped a pouch at his feet before turning to leave.
"Use this to make your wretched, miserable lives a little better. The sight of you both is an eyesore."
The boy's face made her think of someone else — a little girl she had once tried to kill. An anomaly who could rewrite fate and endings, someone who should never have existed.
Yulvaris didn't know where HE had sent the girl. If she ever found her again, she would gladly finish the job. The idea of that child surviving and growing stronger somewhere made her blood run cold.
Yulvaris knew the girl would come for her—not today, but eventually. And even though it sounded ridiculous for someone of her power to be wary of a Dust Wielder, Yulvaris had witnessed enough to know the girl could hurt her if she truly pushed herself.
She turned her head, eyes stretching across buildings toward the hotel where she sensed the human girl resting. That one was strange too—using abilities far beyond her realm, as if stages and limits simply didn't apply. For a second, Yulvaris couldn't decide which one was the bigger anomaly.
She sighed, feeling the contract tug at her, urging her toward the human girl. Asleep, vulnerable, unable to call for help—she was defenseless right now and shouldn't be left alone.
Yulvaris let herself glance at the night sky, her gaze lingering on the distant moons.
"What a beautiful sky," she whispered, right before space twisted and she vanished.