To ease the silent tension building up among us, Krotas was the first to break it.
"Miss Khushi forgot to mention one more detail," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "I will be leading this group, so I hope for your cooperation."
He looked particularly at me as he said that, and only then did I realize—I was the only one who didn't know.
"What's the mission even about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Then, just to tease, I added with a smirk, "Tell me, leader."
He cleared his throat, adjusting his voice before speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"So… there have been multiple complaints from Eastern Aurelia. During the nighttime, a man has been attacking people on Street 40, 41, and 42."
Eastern Aurelia… I recalled the city's structure in my mind. Aurelia, the great city, was divided into distinct sections. The middle region was simply called Aurelia or Middle Aurelia, while the surrounding areas were split into Eastern, Western, Northern, and Southern Aurelia. Furthermore, the city itself was mapped into fifty-eight streets. Streets 40 through 58 lay within Eastern Aurelia, a settlement with its own unique history and architecture.
"Normally, this should have been handled by the city guards or the non-diviners," Krotas continued. "But this… is a case of losing control."
"Losing control?" I frowned, not entirely understanding the meaning.
"Yes," he replied, his tone turning grim. "There are only two legal paths to becoming a diviner. First, you can join the Elites and undergo training. Second, if you wish to pursue it independently, you must obtain permission from the Elites and remain under their supervision until you've mastered your powers. But then…" His expression darkened. "There are the illegal ways—attempting the transformation alone or under the guidance of criminal organizations. 'Losing control' happens most often when someone tries to force themselves into becoming a diviner without proper guidance."
I tilted my head. "Okay… but you still haven't explained what losing control actually means." My grin widened. I was teasing him again, but the question was valid.
He gave me an irritated smile. "I would have—if you hadn't interrupted me."
"Anyway," he went on, "Dp can be used by any Eternian to strengthen their body and reflexes. That much is natural. But becoming a diviner is something else entirely. Not everyone is capable of handling the transformation. When you force your body and spirit into it without being ready, you lose control."
I nodded slowly, the seriousness of his words settling into me.
---
By the time we reached Street 42, it was already afternoon.
A thought struck me then, and I turned toward Krotas. "If this person only shows up at night… then why are we here in the middle of the day?"
He looked at me with the faintest smirk. "Why not?"
I blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah… why not." Somehow, that felt like a good enough answer.
The streets were unnervingly quiet. Windows were shut, doors barred, and an unnatural stillness hung in the air. Many families had abandoned their homes, unwilling to risk the attacks. The silence pressed against us like an invisible weight.
"Let's start by finding the man's house," Krotas said decisively. Then he turned toward me. "And Nishant, you're with me."
Everyone nodded without a word, scattering into pairs. I followed behind him, trying to push down the unease in my stomach.
The first few houses we searched looked ordinary enough. Furniture, dust, maybe a few signs of hasty departures—nothing that screamed "illegal ritual."
"We're looking for evidence of ritual elements or potions, right?" I asked, wanting to confirm.
"Yes," he replied, his tone sharp and focused. For a moment, he seemed like an entirely different person—no longer the playful Krotas I knew, but a leader, sharp-eyed and disciplined.
---
When we finally entered the suspicious-looking house at the end of the lane, there was no mistaking it.
Glass bottles and alchemical tubes cluttered the shelves. A soot-stained cauldron sat in one corner. And on the floor lay the most damning sign: a ritual circle crudely drawn in black powder, its twisted patterns radiating an unsettling aura.
"Looking at this setup," Krotas muttered, crouching near the circle, "it seems he was praying to the God of Space. And judging by the components… he was attempting to attain Phase Seven."
I frowned. "If he's just at Phase Seven, then why did we bring four Phase Sevens with us?"
Krotas didn't look up. "Two reasons. First—when someone loses control at Phase Seven, their strength can rise to the level of Phase Six, sometimes even Phase Five. And second—we don't know if he was working alone. There's always the chance he's connected to an illegal organization." His voice dropped lower, careful, cautious.
Creak.
Both of us froze. Krotas glanced at me, and without speaking, I understood his silent order: Be careful.
The air shifted.
From the shadows, the man emerged. Or rather—the monster he had become.
He no longer resembled an Eternian. His skin had turned sickly green, covered in blisters that oozed and pulsed. His left arm dangled grotesquely, broken at the elbow but somehow still attached. His face was disfigured, his third eye leaking blood down his cheek. He looked half-zombie, half-tormented spirit.
The monster lunged at Krotas with terrifying speed.
Krotas moved just as fast, dodging the swipe and slamming his fist into the creature's broken arm. Without hesitation, he followed with a brutal kick to its gut, sending it stumbling back.
Meanwhile, I bolted outside, shouting at the top of my lungs, "He's here! Krotas is fighting him! Get over here!"
The clash inside the house grew louder—wood splintering, glass shattering, the guttural roars of the half-turned abomination.
Then, with a deafening crash, Krotas came flying through the wall. The impact sent dust and debris into the air as he tumbled across the street.
The monster stepped out after him. And when I saw it move, my blood ran cold. It didn't walk—it skipped. Its movements bent space itself, making it appear closer and closer in the blink of an eye.
It turned its bleeding eye on me.
My body froze.
I wasn't a diviner. I could barely use dp properly. Against this… thing, I was nothing but prey.
Step by step, it closed the distance, until suddenly—it was right in front of me.
It raised both of its twisted right arms, ready to strike down and.....