Merlin sat at the small wooden table with his mother, both of them holding simple bowls of soup. Steam rose gently into the air, mixing with the familiar scent of herbs and broth. The fire crackled softly nearby, and for a brief moment, everything felt calm.
A light knock echoed against the wooden door.
Both of them froze.
"At this hour ?" Freya asked quietly, her brows knitting together. "Who could that be ?"
Merlin hesitated, then stood.
"I'll check," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
He walked to the door and pulled it open.
The two men stood there.
The same pale faces. The same black cloaks. And in the hands of the one in front, the same circular metallic device.
Merlin didn't recognize them, but they were the same ones who had visited Callum's house minutes before.
Before Merlin could even speak, the man raised it and pointed it directly at him.
The device exploded into activity.
It blinked violently, flashing bright green in rapid pulses, accompanied by a sharp, constant beeping that filled the doorway.
Both men stiffened.
"Well, well," the one holding it said, his lips curling into a sinister grin. "Looks like we found what we were looking for."
Merlin didn't even have time to react.
The man kicked him hard in the stomach.
The impact knocked the air from Merlin's lungs and sent him flying backward. He crashed into the wooden floor several meters away, pain ripping through his body as the bowl clattered and shattered beside him.
"MERLIN !" Freya screamed.
She jumped up and ran toward her son, dropping to her knees beside him. Before she could pull him close, the two men stepped inside the house.
One of them glanced down at Merlin with open mockery.
"Look at that," he sneered. "A little abomination."
Freya stood, fury and terror burning through her pain.
"WHO ARE YOU ?" she shouted. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOME ?!"
The second man answered by stepping forward and punching her hard in the stomach.
The sound was dull and sickening.
Freya gasped, folding over instantly as the strength left her body, collapsing to the floor beside her son.
Something inside Merlin snapped.
He pushed himself up despite the pain, his vision swimming.
"DON'T TOUCH HER !" he screamed.
Heat surged through his chest.
Without thinking, Merlin thrust his hand forward.
Flames erupted.
The cloak of the man closest to him caught fire instantly, orange flames licking up his side.
"WHAT ?!" the man shouted, stumbling back, frantically trying to pat the fire out.
The other man reacted instantly.
"So he can control it," he said sharply. "That's new."
Merlin didn't stop.
His hand lifted again, trembling but determined. Utensils from the table, spoons, a small pot, even a wooden stool, ripped free from the ground and hurled toward the second man.
He barely managed to dodge, one spoon striking his shoulder with a sharp crack.
"Careful !" the burning man barked as he finally smothered the flames. "This one's not like the others."
"No," the second agreed, eyes narrowing with something between surprise and excitement. "Apparently he trained a bit, which makes him more interesting."
Merlin staggered forward, placing himself between them and his mother.
"You're not taking us," he panted. "Get out !"
The men exchanged a glance. Then they moved. Too fast.
The second man swept Merlin's legs out from under him with brutal precision. Merlin hit the floor hard, the breath knocked from him again. He tried to raise his hand, tried to summon his magic, anything.
A boot slammed into his ribs.
He cried out.
Through blurred vision, he saw his mother try to move, try to reach him.
One of the men struck her again. She went still.
"No !" Merlin choked.
He forced himself up one last time, rage and fear flooding his veins, and something heavy smashed into the back of his head.
The world lurched.
The last thing Merlin heard was one of the men speaking calmly, almost impressed.
"Remarkable," he said. "At his age, few demons can manage a spark."
Then darkness swallowed everything.
—--
Merlin slowly drifted back to consciousness.
The first thing he saw was the night sky—deep, endless black scattered with cold, distant stars. His head throbbed violently, every pulse of pain reminding him that something was terribly wrong. When he tried to move, a sharp ache ran through his neck, forcing a quiet groan from his lips.
He turned his face to the side with effort.
A campfire burned a short distance away.
Its orange light danced across the trees, illuminating two familiar silhouettes seated near the flames. The same men. The same cloaks. Their voices carried easily through the quiet forest.
"…we should return to base," one of them said calmly. "Take the boy with us. Reeducation will deal with him."
The other snorted softly.
"No. That one's already gone too far on his own."
There was a brief pause, then the second man leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"You saw it yourself. He taught himself. Control. Intent. If he grows up in reeducation—even if it works—he'll become too powerful."
The first man frowned.
"And if we leave him like this, he's a problem either way."
"You know what reeducation does," the second continued, his tone darker. "It breaks them. Makes them obedient, yes, but unstable. Demons that follow orders until they don't. Then we spend more time cleaning up friendly fire than actually hunting threats."
The first man clicked his tongue.
"And yet without reeducation we wouldn't have the trackers. Without the reeducated, we'd still be blind to half the demons out there."
Merlin listened, heart pounding.
'Reeducation ? Demons ?'
None of it made sense.
Panic clawed at his chest as another thought hit him.
'Mother.'
What had they done to her ? To the village ?
Trying not to make a sound, Merlin shifted slightly.
That was when he felt it.
Rope.
His wrists were bound tightly behind his back, thick cords biting into his skin. His ankles were tied as well, the knots precise and unyielding. He tested them carefully, pulling just a little.
Nothing moved.
The knots were expertly made.
Merlin swallowed hard and forced himself to breathe slowly. The men were still talking, their attention on the fire, not on him.
Closing his eyes, Merlin searched inside himself.
Mana answered weakly.
It felt like reaching into a dry well, empty, cracked, almost lifeless. His body trembled as he tried again, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold night air.
'Just a spark… please…'
A tiny flame flickered to life at the tip of his finger.
Merlin bit his lip to keep from crying out in relief.
Carefully, painfully slowly, he guided the flame toward the ropes around his wrists. The heat licked at the fibers, blackening them bit by bit. The smell of burning cord filled his nose.
Seconds stretched into an eternity and finally, the rope gave way.
Merlin froze, listening.
The men didn't react.
Suppressing a shaky breath, he worked on the bindings around his ankles. It took longer, his hands trembled, his vision swam, but eventually the last rope loosened.
He was free.
Merlin pushed himself up as silently as he could, every muscle screaming in protest. The firelight flickered behind him as he turned away, carefully placing one foot after the other, putting as much distance between himself and the men as possible.
He needed to run. Just a little farther.
The darkness, however, was merciless.
His foot came down on something solid…
CRACK.
The sound echoed far too loudly in the still forest.
Merlin froze. Then…
"HEY !" one of the men shouted.
"STOP RIGHT THERE !"
Merlin didn't hesitate.
Using every last scrap of strength he had left, he bolted into the forest.
Branches whipped at his face, roots threatened to trip him, and his lungs burned as he ran blindly through the darkness. Behind him, voices shouted orders, boots pounding against the earth.
Merlin ran blindly through the forest, letting the darkness swallow him.
He forced himself to slow down, even as his heart hammered violently in his chest. The trees were his only allies now. He zigzagged between trunks, ducked under low branches, deliberately breaking his rhythm. He could hear them behind him—steady, controlled footsteps. They weren't panicking. They were hunting.
'Think… hide…'
He slipped into a large, dense bush, forcing his way inside and curling himself inward. Leaves scratched his skin as he pressed his back into the earth. Merlin covered his mouth and nose with one trembling hand, breathing slowly, silently, counting each breath in his head.
One… two… three…
Through the small gaps between the leaves, he saw movement.
One of the men walked between the trees, calm, unhurried, as if he already knew the ending of this chase.
"You know," the man said casually, his voice carrying through the forest, "it'd be much better for you if you came out on your own, kid."
Merlin didn't move.
The man stopped, looking around slowly.
"There are causes greater than you," he continued. "Greater than this village. You could still be useful. No need for things to end… unpleasantly."
Silence.
Merlin stayed perfectly still, his muscles screaming.
The man sighed.
"Shame."
He reached into his coat and pulled out the metallic circular device.
Red light pulsed steadily as he swept it through the air, scanning the trees, the ground, the shadows.
Merlin's stomach twisted.
The light turned…
Green.
It began flashing wildly, accompanied by a sharp, incessant beeping.
'No…'
Before Merlin could react, heavy hands grabbed him from behind, ripping him out of the bush. He barely had time to gasp before he was hurled through the air and slammed hard against a massive rock.
The impact knocked the breath from his lungs.
He choked as a hand closed around his throat, lifting him slightly off the ground. Cold metal kissed his neck, a dagger, its surface unnaturally cold, silver gleaming faintly in the fireless darkness.
The second man approached calmly, slipping the device back into his pocket as he looked Merlin over.
"Well," he said with a thin smile, "looks like we were being generous before."
The man holding Merlin tightened his grip.
"Now ?" the second continued, voice low and cruel. "Now we're going to enjoy this. Slow. Painful."
He leaned closer, his words dripping with filth.
"Children like you…little magic-spawn. Demons wearing skin. You know, our colleagues are already heading to your village."
Merlin's eyes widened.
"Won't be a soul left alive by morning," the man went on cheerfully. "No witnesses. No stories."
He chuckled.
"And your mother ? Maybe we'll keep her. Find a use for her. After all, she must be good for something, even after giving birth to a monster like you."
Something inside Merlin broke.
Pressure built deep within his chest, tight, crushing, unbearable. Heat surged through his veins, as if his blood had ignited. Steam began to rise from his skin, swirling into the cold night air.
The men hesitated, confused.
Merlin's vision burned white at the edges.
Through clenched teeth, his voice shaking with pure hatred, he spoke.
"You'll never hurt anyone again…in your filthy lives."
One of the men laughed.
"Listen to him," he mocked. "Just words from a dying—"
The pressure reached its limit. Merlin screamed.
The magic exploded outward.
A violent shockwave erupted from his body, annihilating everything around him. The ground cracked and tore apart. Trees were ripped from the earth like toys, some snapped in half, others twisted violently before collapsing. Birds screamed as they fled their nests, the forest erupting into chaos.
The man holding Merlin was hit first.
He vanished.
Not thrown, disintegrated.
Only his leather boots remained, smoking on the scorched ground.
The second man was thrown backward, his body stripped to bone in an instant. What remained was a charred skeleton, bits of burned flesh clinging to white, blackened bones, barely recognizable as something that had once been human.
Silence followed.
Merlin staggered forward.
Every part of him screamed in agony. His head pounded as if molten iron were being hammered into his skull. He took two unsteady steps before his legs gave out, dropping to his knees on the now-warm earth.
His vision blurred.
He fought to stay conscious, biting down on his lip, but his body betrayed him. Slowly, helplessly, he collapsed onto the ground.
All he could see were the fallen trees surrounding him, a ring of destruction carved by his own power.
As his eyes fluttered shut, barely open…
CRACK 4x
Four sharp, unmistakable sounds echoed through the air.
Then everything went black.