Serik followed Jons in silence through the corridors.
The house felt narrower than before. Every step echoed too loudly, as though the walls themselves remembered what had happened. The image replayed again and again in his mind—Illumi's body flying through the air, the dull crack against stone, the rush of power that had come so easily.
Too easily.
He didn't think.
That was the worst part.
Jons said nothing. He carried Illumi as if weight were optional, adjusting his grip only once as they entered the guest room. He laid the boy on the bed with careful precision, positioning his head, ensuring his breathing stayed even. Two fingers pressed lightly at the neck. Calm. Professional.
Serik stood frozen in the doorway.
Jons guided a controlled flow of aura into Illumi's body. Not forceful. Not invasive. Just enough to stabilize what had been rattled loose.
Serik felt it immediately.
When Jons finished, Serik still hadn't moved.
"Are you planning to fuse with the wall?" Jons asked without looking up, "Or will you sit down?"
Serik slid down until he was crouched against the frame, head bowed.
Time passed strangely after that. Minutes blurred into hours. He barely ate. Barely slept. Every breath from the other side of the door felt louder than his own thoughts.
Illumi woke quietly.
No panic. No sharp intake of breath. Just awareness.
His eyes tracked the unfamiliar ceiling, then the room. His body felt intact—but hollow, as if something inside had been brushed against and then withdrawn.
A man sat beside the bed in a rocking chair, reading.
"You're awake," the man said calmly.
Illumi stayed silent.
"You're assessing," the man continued, turning a page. "Your surroundings. Your condition. And why someone your age struck you down so thoroughly."
Illumi turned his head slowly.
Their eyes met.
"You don't need to guess," Jons said, closing the book. "I'll explain."
He explained Nen plainly. No dramatics. Aura nodes. Ten. Ren. The reason some people radiate danger without knowing why.
Illumi absorbed everything.
"…Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
"Because I have history with your family," Jons replied. "And because this knowledge has already brushed against you. Leaving it unshaped would be irresponsible."
Illumi considered this.
"Will you train me?" he asked.
"No."
Immediate.
"Serik will," Jons added.
Serik stiffened.
Illumi blinked once. "Why?"
Jons rose. "Because it will be instructive."
Illumi nodded his head in understanding.
They went to the garden.
Serik sat in the center, wrapped tightly in Ten, unmoving. He opened his eyes when he sensed them—and immediately looked away when he saw Illumi.
Jons stopped a few steps behind him.
"Serik," he said. "You will teach him Nen."
Serik turned sharply. "What? No—Jons, I can't. I barely understand it myself. How am I supposed to teach somebody something I learned not too long ago?"
Jons raised one hand.
Silence fell instantly.
"You have no choice," he said evenly. "This is your atonement."
Serik swallowed hard.
Jons stepped behind Illumi.
"Stand still," he instructed.
Illumi complied.
Jons placed both hands flat against Illumi's back.
Then he released the restraint.
Aura surged outward.
Illumi staggered half a step, eyes widening as something ancient and buried forced itself into awareness. The air around him distorted.
Serik's heart slammed into his ribs.
"Jons—!"
"Begin," Jons said calmly, stepping back.
Illumi turned to Serik.
"…What is this?"
Serik stared at him. Panic flared.
"Okay—okay, listen. You need to—uh—keep it close. Like—like a skin. Don't let it leak out."
"I don't understand."
"Neither did I!" Serik snapped, then winced. "Sorry. Just—breathe. Slow. Like you're not hunting something."
Illumi tried.
The aura flared.
"No—too much. Don't push it."
"I am not pushing."
"You are."
Illumi frowned and adjusted again to be shallower. The aura shifted. Smoothed slightly.
"…I feel it," Illumi said quietly. "It's always been there, hasn't it?, this power."
Serik nodded, throat tight. "Yeah. It has."
The aura trembled—and then stabilized. Thin. Controlled.
Serik blinked in surprise.
"You… did it."
Illumi tilted his head. "Your way of teaching is very inefficient."
Serik laughed weakly. "You have no idea."
Relief washed over him so suddenly his knees almost gave out. He let out a long, shaky breath and rubbed his face.
I knew it, he thought. I'm not cut out for this.
He glanced at Jons.
The butler met his eyes—unreadable, but approving.
Serik straightened.
"Sit," he said to Illumi.
Illumi sat cross-legged immediately.
"You're going to maintain that," Serik continued, gesturing to the thin layer of aura. "All of it. No gaps. No flaring. For one full day."
"One day?" Illumi echoed.
"Yes."
"And if I fail?"
Serik hesitated, then answered honestly. "Then you start again."
Jons closed his book with a soft snap.
"Good," he said. "That will be all—for now."
Serik sank down onto the grass beside Illumi, mental exhaustion finally catching up with him.
The garden was quiet for the rest of the day.
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ps?