Yuusaba sat alone on his finely carved sofa, his thoughts a tangled haze of unrest. He was waiting for the familiar sound of a knock, but the truth he carried weighed more than the house itself.
It was a truth Cesar wasn't ready for.
When the doorbell finally rang, a wave of dread washed over him. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle before finally pulling it open. Cesar stood there, sensing the tension immediately. Without a word, Yuusaba motioned for him to enter.
They sat in a silence that stretched for five long minutes.
"Something's wrong," Cesar said, breaking the quiet. "You're acting strange, Yuusaba. Just tell me."
Yuusaba rubbed his forehead, searching for the right words. "Cesar... did your grandfather ever talk to you about the nature of power?"
"Power?" Cesar repeated. "He mentioned something I supposedly have... but I've never seen a sign of it."
"He stayed vague for a reason," Yuusaba sighed. "He followed a strict protocol. In this world of nearly 80 million people, only a fraction are born with 'The Gift.' Over centuries, we've classified them into two tiers."
Yuusaba leaned forward, his eyes intense.
"First, the Common Powers—the basic elements like fire, water, or lightning. Then, there are the Intermediate Powers—a rare fusion of two elements. Fire and wind, for example."
"And me?" Cesar asked, his brow furrowed.
"You are one of the rare ones. Your grandfather believed you possess an Intermediate Power—a volatile mix of fire and lava. He kept you in the dark because we were afraid. Afraid that if you knew your potential, you'd do something reckless... like charge into that cursed castle."
Cesar drew in a sharp breath. The warning felt like an echo of every shadow that had haunted his childhood.
"But that's not all." Yuusaba reached into his pocket and pulled out a strange, circular device. It looked like a brass thermometer with a glass-covered dial. Underneath the needle were three colored zones: Blue (Normal), Orange (Warning), and Red (Danger).
The needle was currently vibrating deep within the Orange.
"Your grandfather gave me this to monitor you. It reacts to the internal pressure of your body. Yesterday..." Yuusaba's voice dropped to a whisper, "...it hit the Red."
"What does that mean?"
"It means your power is waking up, and it's unstable. You need to find an old friend of your grandfather's named Tevon. He is the only one who can help you stabilize the heat before it consumes you."
"And where is he?"
Yuusaba hesitated, the weight of the world in his eyes. "I don't know. Your grandfather lost track of him years ago."
A heavy silence followed. Panic flared in Cesar's chest, but Yuusaba gripped his shoulder. "We have time to plan, Cesar. We will find him."
Two days later, the morning was eerily calm.
Yuusaba was walking through the village, his mind racing with thoughts of Tevon and the needle, when a shrill, piercing alarm tore through the air like a jagged blade.
"What the...?"
He spun around as groups of panicked villagers began to scramble. Cesar heard it too, rushing out of his house just as the alarm cut off, replaced by a cold, mechanical voice echoing across the rooftops:
"Red Alert. This is not a drill. Red Alert."
The loop was chilling. A few minutes later, the message changed, turning the panic into pure terror:
"Hostile fighters spotted at the village borders. All civilians: return to your homes. Barricade all entrances. This is not a drill."
Guards from the castle's security force began to mobilize, their expressions grim as they took defensive positions at the barricades.
"There are four of them," one guard whispered, his hand shaking on his spear. "And they don't look human."
The intruders were rogues—powered individuals who had set up camp in the outskirts. Their target wasn't the villagers or their homes. They were staring at the jagged spires of the castle.
But they weren't alone. Hidden behind a jagged rock at the treeline, a lone figure crouched, watching both the rogues and the fortress. He was young, his eyes sharp and filled with a cold, predatory focus. He didn't look like an intruder, yet he had tracked them for miles.
He, too, was waiting for the right moment to strike the castle.