Elias couldn't remember the last time he'd been this pissed.
Okay—correction. He could remember.
But that didn't change the fact that he was absolutely furious right now.
It all started the moment he ran into those two Choir scums.
Even after he'd proven—very clearly—that he wasn't insane, the bastards still looked at him with that annoying, half-believing skepticism.
Seriously.
How could a barefoot kid, with murderous eyes and an obvious difficulty forming full sentences, be considered mad?
If anything, they should blame themselves for being absolutely dogshit at their jobs.
They handled him with the kind of care reserved for a very suspicious criminal under inspection. One of the assholes had hoisted him onto his shoulders like he weighed nothing, while the other kept smiling—smiling—and repeating over and over, in that calm, punchable voice, that everything was fine and they just wanted to "verify something."
Bunch of bastards.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, they'd paraded him around to their comrades, openly commenting and asking for opinions on his mental sanity.
Right in front of him.
He wouldn't have cared—honestly, he wouldn't—if all of this wasn't happening while he was still slung over some scumbag's shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
The damage this was doing to his reputation?
Unrecoverable.
Some female Knights had gathered around him while he hung there upside down, every single one of them laughing and commenting on how cute he looked.
Cute.
As if a face flushed red with pure, murderous rage could ever qualify as cute.
One of them stepped closer—the Knight carrying him barely even reacted. She giggled, then bent down until her face was level with his, holding out an apple with a bright smile.
She was young and pretty. Silver hair cascaded down a sculpted face, her emerald eyes shining under the light.
Elias saw none of it.
All he saw was a devil that had crawled out of hell just to mock him.
"Hey," she said sweetly. "Do you want some?"
"Go die!"
That was the last humiliation before they dragged him off to some kind of warehouse, where an old, creepy lady waited behind rows of scanners and massive machines—what the two Knight assholes had described as a 'gentle rehabilitation process.'
Yeah. Right.
As if it wasn't painfully obvious they were just trying to test him.
Who in their right mind does that to a sane, breathtaking, drop-dead gorgeous guy?
Ugh. Someone call the police.
It was clear as day the bastards were just jealous. Jealous that they'd never look half as good as him.
This was illegal. Absolutely illegal.
The old lady ran him through a series of scanners and machines, smiling at him the whole time like some loving grandmother.
But gods, all Elias felt was goosebumps.
Her brown, ash-colored teeth—crooked and dry—were easily one of the most horrifying things he'd ever had the misfortune of witnessing in his short life.
Later, he was hauled to the Arvenelle Town Headquarters in an armored vehicle.
The place was a massive skyscraper planted right at the heart of the city, all cold steel and glass—way too tall for something that clearly existed just to piss him off.
Now he sat on a bench in a waiting room, legs stretched out, waiting for his name to be called through the speakers overhead.
Elias sighed.
Everything was taking forever, and it was starting to grate on his nerves. For one, he hadn't showered in what felt like centuries. He needed fresh clothes. And gods—he needed shoes. Or sandals. Or anything to put over his feet.
They were already aching from all the walking he'd been forced to do barefoot.
And not a single one of those scumbags had even offered him something to wear, since he was apparently still under "scrutiny."
Ugh.
That was probably just a fancy excuse to be assholes.
"Elias Verdan, please make your way to the boardroom," a mechanical voice boomed from the speakers.
"Fucking finally," Elias muttered.
He stood up before the announcement was even finished and shoved the doors open.
A man in a tuxedo stood on the other side, an earpiece blinking softly in one ear. He spared Elias a brief glance, then waved him forward like this was all routine.
"Follow me," the man said, already turning away as he led him into the empty, echoing hallways.
Elias followed behind him, brows furrowed in thought.
This was probably the final stage of the investigation. The part where they sat him down and bombarded him with questions—most importantly how a mundane survived an Echoform invasion of that scale.
Not that he was mundane anymore.
And they probably knew it.
He'd seen it clearly on the old woman's face after the tests. The flash of shock. Then confusion. The way her smile twitched like something didn't add up.
He'd even heard her mutter something under her breath.
"Defective strings…"
Whatever that meant.
Still, the words had filled him with relief. Because anything was better than having his real secret exposed.
After all, he had a Mythic Class.
One that would probably evolve into something capable of devouring the abilities of others.
That kind of power shouldn't exist.
A power like that would make every Chordbearer out there nervous enough to kill him on sight.
So for now, he had to hide.
Stay under the radar. Lie low. Grow stronger.
Strong enough to not give a fuck.
Strong enough to nail down anyone stupid enough to stand in his way.
…Still, he hated it.
Elias had always loved attention. Craved it, even. In literally any other circumstance, there was no way he wouldn't shove his new abilities right into the world's face and dare it to deal with him.
But not now.
Not yet.
It was infuriating, but… life first, right?
With a tired sigh escaping his lips, Elias looked down the passageway, a faint touch of melancholy settling in.
His dad used to work here as an office clerk. He'd come around sometimes—nothing serious, just visits. On ordinary days, these halls were packed. Hundreds of people moving about, voices overlapping, the place buzzing with noise and life.
Now there was just… nothing.
Empty corridors. Dead silence.
After all, they were probably all dead.
His fists clenched at the thought.
Even if he were the coldest, most unfeeling bastard in the world, there was no way something like that wouldn't squeeze at least a drop of empathy out of him.
The man suddenly stopped beside a double set of mahogany doors.
"You have arrived," he said flatly.
Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the curve of the hallway without another word.
Elias drew in a slow breath, forcing his heart to calm.
It was just some boring investigation. How hard could it really be?
He took another breath—
And pushed the doors open.