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“Is this the right place…?”
I muttered as I compared the map in my hand to the surroundings. A staircase led toward the spire, tucked away in a remote corner of the castle.
I crumpled the map into my pocket and picked up the tray I had set down beside me. I’d brought some food, thinking I should at least make sure he ate.
“The spire, huh.”
It was clear what their intention was: they would keep an eye on him but deliberately keep him at a distance.
I couldn’t fully understand Isaac and the others’ reasoning—why they were so intent on observing how he’d use his ability instead of integrating him.
I’d considered pressing further but let it go. With those five, they surely had their reasons.
—He’s not exactly threatening, you know? His survival instincts are sharp, but he’s got no drive. Funny guy, isn’t he?
Ethan had laughed, like the line had been scripted.
Some suggested it was because of his long stay in the lab, but even so, no one had a clear conclusion.
Tap—
The low heels of my shoes thudded against the stone. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the door on the top floor.
…He couldn’t attack me anyway.
I took a small breath, recalling Ethan’s smug explanation that he’d literally engraved it into his brain that he couldn’t harm me (I honestly cursed out loud at that point).
Knock, knock—
“…Excuse me.”
No response.
After waiting a few seconds, I carefully opened the door. There he was—a man sitting on the bed by the window.
His fierce eyes locked on me.
I held up the tray lightly to prove I meant no harm.
“I thought you should eat something.”
“……”
“I know it’s a bit late, but I hope you understand. Anyway…”
I trailed off as I approached. Up close, I noticed chains attached to the shackles around his wrists and neck, leading somewhere under the bed.
Wait. How long were those chains?
“Sorry, but… could you stretch out your arm for a second?”
To my surprise, he obediently raised his arm. Just before it reached chest height, the chain went taut with a metallic snap.
I instantly realized—he couldn’t even bring a spoon to his mouth.
And judging from his expression, he knew that very well. Our eyes flicked in unison between the tray of food and the chains.
After a short silence, I carefully offered,
“…Should I feed you?”
His face immediately scrunched up in displeasure.
Well then what other brilliant idea do you have? Seriously.
❖ ❖ ❖
Ian. No last name. Even his first name was just pieced together from scraps we’d heard. According to what both the imperial court and we had learned, he was an orphan from the slums of the Kartilan Empire.
His life had already been miserable, but it descended into true hell when he was kidnapped and taken to Lusphelt’s research institute.
The experiments they conducted were indistinguishable from torture. People around him died before anyone could form attachments, their bodies carted away cold every day.
—This one might actually be useful.
Whether it was luck or misfortune, Ian had been one of the “exceptional” subjects. Ethan had read the researchers’ thoughts calling him “promising” and laughed at their ignorance.
—You can’t just “make” an ability user like that. Widening someone’s mana framework can produce an archmage of the century, sure. But an ability user…
Magic can be mastered by anyone with training, but abilities are innate—they’re part of the person.
The two forces, magic and abilities, clash violently. Magic doesn’t work on ability users’ bodies, and abilities can’t affect magic users either.
Trying to create an ability user through magical means was insane.
But Ian was their only success.
Nullification. Had there ever been someone this powerful before?
The man before me was, in that sense, a fascinating existence.
The ability was so broken that they hadn’t even given it to Saren. Looking at how Saren turned out, maybe it was lucky this man got it instead.
“For now, if you’re not hungry, it might be better to ask them to lengthen the chains before eating.”
I set the tray carefully by the bed and sat down beside it. If he didn’t want me to feed him, fine.
He nodded slightly.
It’s kind of an awkward time to just leave…
Maybe I should try talking to him?
A “half-apology, half-befriending project” didn’t sound like a bad idea.
Time to start communicating through nods.
“…Your name is Ian, right?”
He turned his head toward me. His gaze was sharp, but the bluish-gray of his eyes was calm.
He nodded slowly.
“I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m Shuneria Hadenberg. Everyone calls me Shunen.”
“……”
“I don’t know if you remember the people from the first day, but anyway—we’re all adopted siblings. Me included.”
The name Hadenberg no longer felt awkward on my tongue. It felt familiar.
Ian stared at me steadily. His eyes, like melted silver over a lake, made me a little self-conscious, so I hurried to keep talking.
“So, um… about your current situation—”
I’m really sorry about the shackles. My family doesn’t exactly have a great sense of human rights.
“And the rough language…”
They’re basically half villains. Former world destroyers, you know.
“And the discrimination…”
I gave up mid-sentence and just apologized.
“…I’m just really sorry about everything.”
The more I spoke, the worse it sounded.
Tap tap.
“…?”
Ian tapped the bed lightly. He was staring straight into my eyes, as if wanting to say something.
I considered handing him a pen but quickly decided against it—he might not even know how to write, and it could be rude to assume.
“Could you… mouth the words?”
He frowned for a moment, then moved his lips.
What’s he saying…? I narrowed my eyes, trying to catch it. You, you… No, wait. Are you saying—
“Why are you apologizing?”
Judging from his expression, I’d gotten it right.
“Well, because they’re my family? I mean, calling it family is a bit complicated, but anyway—treating someone like this isn’t okay, plain and simple.”
“……”
“But they insist they can’t undo the restraints for safety reasons…”
I recalled Retilia’s firm words: he had to remain bound somehow.
Ian was an ability user, but currently unable to use his powers properly. Ethan’s abilities worked flawlessly on him for now.
But sometimes, they said, his power burst out unpredictably. I wouldn’t know—I had no abilities.
“So currently, the negotiations are…”
I gave Ian a quick summary of the current situation—how things stood, what I could try to improve regarding his meals and comfort.
He listened attentively, his bluish-gray eyes softening a little. His silent presence was oddly comforting.
“I heard your voice doesn’t work right now.”
His body flinched slightly.
The wound beneath the shackle ran up to his collarbone. I made sure to keep my eyes on his face, not the scar.
“When the day comes that you can speak again, call me Shunen.”
It’s my favorite nickname, after all.
I added with a playful smile.
It was a name more familiar than my own by now. No one could hear it spoken with affection and not be moved.
Ian seemed to want to say something, but closed his mouth and simply nodded.
“I look forward to getting along.”
I reached out my hand. With the sound of clinking chains, he clasped it.
My first conversation with Ian had gone surprisingly well.
❖ ❖ ❖
At Shuneria’s request, Ian’s movement range had been slightly expanded (Nobel had tried to talk her out of it but lost). Late at night, after she’d gone to sleep, the five gathered silently in the common room.
“You’re here.”
Nobel greeted Hazen with his usual sarcasm as he entered. Hazen answered with a lazy nod and sat beside Retilia.
Nobel grumbled.
“I swear, we’re having these damn family meetings more often lately.”
“Well, obviously. Things were always going to get busier once we found Shunen.”
“I’m still pissed about the Colhart dukedom.”
Retilia snapped, and Ethan, exhausted from recent work, muttered irritably.
“It’s that damned family’s fault this is happening again.”
“At least we weren’t too late this time. Last time…”
Hazen’s gaze darkened. No one said another word.
Their glowing eyes slowly dimmed behind their eyelids.
“So this time, we erase them completely. No loose ends.”
Isaac broke the silence.
The Duke of Colhart was a thorn in their side. This time, for Shuneria’s sake, they intended to wipe that name off the empire’s map.
Leaning back in her chair, Retilia spoke.
“With that pride of theirs, they’ll lash out soon enough. We just have to wait for the right moment and bury them neatly. But the real problem is that.”
She gestured upward—toward the spire.
“Maybe it’s some kind of bulwark the world prepared…”
“……”
“But we can’t just leave it alone, can we?”
Her golden eyes gleamed coldly beneath raised brows.
“Isaac’s right. We need to test that ability.”
“He can’t even use it properly right now. Why not just leave him like that?”
“Nobel, you idiot, do you think Kartilan will just leave him alone? They’ll train him to use it. We need to know his limits first.”
“It’s risky, but… everything about him seems too perfectly arranged. I can’t help but feel like the world made him.”
Hazen’s comment prompted Isaac, who had been quiet, to speak.
“His ability and circumstances are too precise. Hazen’s probably right. The only question is: for what purpose?”
A nullifier powerful enough to restrain the five of them. A being that hadn’t existed in the “previous” world. And soon, Ian would be sent to Kartilan.
Their conclusion was clear.
“Well, whether he’s the world’s bulwark or not, it changes nothing.”
Their gazes sharpened simultaneously.
Unspoken, yet perfectly aligned thoughts filled the room.
Isaac gave a small chuckle and shrugged.
“Let’s see what direction this anomaly steers the world in.”
Whatever path this foreign element would carve out, their goal had always been the same.
❖ ❖ ❖
Saren could not believe the sight before her.
“Divert the southern route to the sea route immediately! The central—!”
“My lord, a message! It’s about the previous proposal—!”
The Duke of Colhart barked orders to his servants like spitting blood. Messengers brought bad news one after another. Piles of humiliating documents grew like a mountain.
Cracks—countless cracks—spread through the space.
