Bound by the king of destruction

I lay sprawled on my bed, my chest rising and falling unevenly. Sweat clung to my skin as my eyes twitched beneath my lids, my brows furrowing while the nightmare dragged me deeper.

I was there again—

small, fragile, no more than four years old.

Shadows of tall men loomed over me, their voices sharp and cold.

"Hand over the boy," one of them barked at the woman clutching me.

"With us, he'll be safe and so will the people. Keeping him here will only bring ruin."

"No!" she cried, her arms tightening around me as though her grip alone could keep me in her world. Tears streamed down her face. "Please, leave my son with me! I promise he is not a threat!"

I reached for her desperately, screaming through sobs. "Mama!"

My tiny fingers clawed the air, but one of the men yanked me away.

"Making a fuss won't help," said another man with striking white-bluish hair, his tone cold but steady. He held her back as she thrashed, begging and sobbing.

"Think. We need patience… we need to be smart if we ever wish to see him again."

"Please!" she choked, her voice cracking under the weight of despair.

But her cries went unanswered. The men turned their backs and walked away, dragging me into the shadows.

The memory shattered like glass.

---

I jolted awake, my eyes snapping open, my body drenched in sweat. My chest heaved as I fought to catch my breath. For a moment, I couldn't move.

Morning light crept through the window, pale and slow. But the nightmare clung to me like a shadow.

It happened again.

Another dream of my childhood.

This is why I hate sleeping, every time I close my eyes, I'm dragged back there.

I shifted my gaze to the ceiling—

and froze.

---

Outside the house…

A pair of boots stepped off the cracked asphalt, crunching softly onto the dirt path.

"Outside the city," a woman's voice muttered, sharp but curious.

Ahead of her stood an isolated house at the edge of the woods.

"Where the buildings vanish, and even the air forgets how to stay warm. This is where he chose to live?"

She paused, letting the breeze brush across her face.

---

Inside the house…

I sat up slowly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Something crawled across it with slow, deliberate movements, as if gravity had lost its grip. Its pale limbs bent at odd angles, twitching like broken clock hands. It sniffed along the ceiling's edge, hunting for something long forgotten in the cracks.

I sighed and sat on the bed's edge.

"How many times have I told you not to crawl on the ceiling, Van?"

Van twisted his head upside down to look at me, his voice low and curious.

"Something smells incredibly good up here. What do you hide in these cracks?"

"Nothing for you. Get down already."

He didn't argue. With an eerie, fluid motion, he twisted backward, slipped through the open window, and disappeared like a smear of shadow carried off by the wind.

I reached for the envelope on my bedside table.

Bold lettering read:

Wilson Castalis: Exo-Hunter.

The academy refused to grant me the title of hunter.

Well, I should at least be happy they're letting me back into the city.

But a voice outside cut through my thoughts.

"Fiel!" Sharp and clear.

The caller didn't wait. "Ashenhive, are you in there?"

I rose and moved toward the door.

But just as I stepped into the corridor, I collided with an eerie figure or rather, it walked through me, like I was made of mist.

Cold sank into my chest, my skin crawling. I froze.

Long hair veiled the figure's face, scorched skin peeking through like ash-stained parchment. It moved in a hurry, like someone late to save a burning breakfast. I turned, half expecting the hall to be empty but the figure looked back mid-step.

"Sorry," she whispered, then vanished into the wall.

---

I stood still for a moment. The hallway was too quiet, the floor beneath me somehow lighter than it should be.

Van's head popped out of the ceiling like a ghostly prank. "Did Nellie creep you out again?"

"Stop saying 'again,' she's just not good at communication."

Nellie and Vanarion whom I call Van are my ghost housemates.

Bonding with ghosts risks one's humanity.

But me? I'm the exception.

---

I finally opened the front door.

There she was, a woman in her late thirties, standing with effortless confidence at the porch steps.

Ms. Clare Blackthorn, scientist at the Castalis Invention Lab.

She wore gloves and boots that matched her lab coat, red hair tied back, tinted glasses perched low on her nose. A smirk played on her lips, the kind that made her look like she owned not just my house but the entire dirt road.

I sighed and stepped outside.

"Ms. Clare, how many times have I told you not to call me by my surname?"

She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Are you planning to disown it?"

I didn't answer. The breeze caught her coat, fluttering like a flag. She pointed toward the woods behind my house, her smirk widening.

"Are you ready?" she asked, brushing a bit of dust off my hair as if it offended her.

"Didn't you shower last night?" she teased.

That's not a question to ask a grown man.

I glanced at the woods. "You mean right now?"

"Yeah," she said with a shrug, lips curling into a half-smile as her foot tapped impatiently.

"I just need two."

I raised a brow, arms crossing. "You already have thousands of those."

"Yeah, but they don't add up to the total I need," she replied, brushing a stray lock from her face.

"And I'm taking them to the city tomorrow."

She forgot to bring my cinder puffs again. I won't ask.

---

I shut the door and started toward the woods, her footsteps trailing mine.

"And how do you plan to transport them?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Your driver's still on leave, isn't he?"

She exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'll ask the lab for a transporter," she said, clipped but steady.

"I don't really have a choice."

---

The woods welcomed us with their usual silence. Leaves whispered underfoot, the scent of pine mixing with something faintly metallic. She walked a few steps behind, brushing low branches aside.

"Now that I remember," she said, "you mentioned going back to the city today, right?"

"Yeah. Finally, they accepted my application to enroll at Wilson Castalis Academy."

"It's been three years since they ousted you from the city." Her tone softened, sadness flickering across her face.

Silence followed, the woods themselves seeming to eavesdrop.

"Your parents fought tooth and nail to see this day come," she added quietly.

Then, after a pause,

"Everything will be okay. You're not different, you're special. And don't pay mind to those who don't understand your uniqueness."

I kept walking, pretending I didn't hear her.

But inside, I was glad.

She says this every time we're together.

I never grow tired of those words.

---

Ms. Clare and I weren't always this close. Our first meeting was thirteen months ago, when she knocked on my door and asked if I was really the demon everyone whispered about. I was ready to slam the door—

but instead, she made me a deal.

"You get me the Essencia Crystals, and I'll pay you monthly."

That's how it began.

And somehow, I've let her boss me around ever since.