That night, Lucian had nightmares again.
Since he had retrieved more of his childhood memories, those memories brought even more trauma.
He saw his mother cry while trying to keep a smile for him. He saw his father's shadow towering, shouting, and hitting. He saw himself, small and terrified, hiding in his room as muffled sobs seeped through the walls.
His increased Will made him more aware, more mentally stable—yet it also tore open the boxes he had sealed for survival.
Some memories returned.
Some wounds reopened.
***
When he woke up, he was exhausted.
He didn't get a good sleep since he had woken up repeatedly, sweating due to his nightmares.
After a long, hot shower, he stood before the mirror.
His reflection no longer looked like the frail boy he used to be. Muscles had begun taking shape along his arms and torso.
His posture had improved. Even the faint sharpness in his features had become more defined.
He looked… good.
Handsome even.
With a thought, his stats appeared.
[STATUS]
Name – Lucien Foster
Race – Human
Titles – [LOCKED]
Bloodline – ??? (Dormant, Sealed)
Affinity – [LOCKED]
Talent – [LOCKED]
Rank – [LOCKED]
[Attributes]
Strength – 2→4
Agility – 2→5
Constitution – 1→4
Intelligence – 7→8
Will – 3→4
Perception – 1→3
Charm – 5→8
Stamina – 2→6
Mana – [LOCKED]
Attribute Points (AP) – 2
***
[You have grown much more than expected in a month.]
Akasha said softly in a gentle voice.
"Thank you for the compliment, but…"
[What, are you disappointed?]
"No, not that. I am happy with my growth, but… why is my charm so high?"
He didn't understand how his charm had increased so much all of a sudden in just over a month.
[How would I know? It's your body.]
"I thought you would."
[I don't.]
***
After breakfast, he went outside to make a purchase, more like a gift.
However, since he didn't have much money, he had to buy something cheap.
After looking for a while, he finally found something he liked.
Upon reaching the facility, he got nervous.
Yesterday, his mother looked terrified as he tried to calm her down. He didn't know if she would like to meet him again.
Still, gathering all his, he went inside.
The same guard led him down the familiar hallway.
The door creaked open.
She flinched at the sound.
Seeing him, her eyes remained the same, cold and empty.
But her eyes flickered with a spark.
"Good morning," Lucian said softly.
She didn't say anything, just stared with an unreadable expression.
He didn't push. Instead, he began talking—softly, casually.
Things about his day, stories he thought might interest her, even small dumb things just to keep her mind moving.
She sat silently, pretending not to care, but she listened.
After a while, she finally spoke, her voice brittle,
"Why… why are you wasting your time here?"
Lucian blinked, but smiled.
"Because I want to."
She stared at him, confused, then muttered,
"Whatever," turning her head with irritation that didn't quite reach her eyes.
He chuckled.
"Don't laugh." Her tone grew sharper.
"But you looked so cute."
She looked at him, trying to find any false emotions, but found none. Just sincerity.
"Look, kid," She said quietly.
"Whatever you are trying to get from me, it won't work."
He frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
She looked again and realized—he wasn't lying. He hadn't lied once. His words, his eyes, his presence… none of it matched the ones who had used her before.
Maybe she had misunderstood him.
"Nothing." She dismissed it.
She ignored his confused look and looked at him.
Now that she looked properly, he was handsome.
Like someone from an upper-class family—at least at first glance. But the worn shoes, faded hoodie, rough calluses on his fingers… anyone could see he wasn't from wealth.
Even his stories confirmed it.
'My boy might have looked like him if he—'
Her vision blurred. Pain surged as old memories stabbed through her chest.
If only she had ended Damon that night…
If only she had been stronger…
If only she had protected her son…
Then maybe he would still—
"Mom–"
Her eyes snapped up.
"Miss, are you alright?" He repeated himself, trying to clear his blunder.
"What did yo– nothing."
She sighed. She didn't want to have any expectations.
She must have imagined it.
Feeling the touch of his hand on her cheek, she flinched.
He looked worried, as if she were someone precious to him.
She didn't understand it. No one had ever looked at her that way—not without wanting something. Her beauty had ruined her life, turned her into a prize, a tool.
But this boy's gaze held worry, not desire.
He wiped her tears, filled a glass with water, and gave it to her.
She stared blankly, unmoving.