Back in the present, in Ryker's room, the air was filled with sparks of electricity as three woman were staring daggers. Liv had her sleeves rolled up ready for violence. Fenia also had her tail straight and her eyes narrowed.
Isabella was holding the cake.
"Hello?" Ryker said.
A chill went up his spine. These women were all strong and he didn't want to be caught in the crossfire. His goal was to defuse the tension.
He gestured to a small table by the window.
"Why don't we all sit?" he suggested.
"That's a perfect idea brother. We can chat while she takes the dog for a walk."
Isabella walked to the table. Her long, dark purple hair flowing behind her like a river of night.
"Dog?" Fenia snarled, her claws extending. Even if she couldn't kill the Dracula in front of her, she wouldn't be disrespected.
But Fenia forze. Isabella had raised a single, slender finger. Before they could react, purple mana wrapped around them and they were teleported out of the room.
Adrenaline shot through his body. Panic erupted in him as his beloved Liv disappeared from his sight.
"What did you do to them?"
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Isabella pursed her lips flat. Her brother cared about these two. She didn't like that.
"They're safe."
He clenched his fist, a severe lack of trust between them. He barely knew his sister.
"Where did you teleport them to Isabella?"
She grabbed a plate.
"They're outside the door, see for yourself."
She put it on the table.
Ryker peeked out the peephole. They were outside. Safe. Relief washed over him. His shoulders relaxed and he let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding.
Isabella picked up a fork. She coughed.
"What?" he said, walking over to her, still a bit annoyed.
Petting her lap, she suggested for him to sit in her lap like a child sitting in his mother's lap. That made him raise an eyebrow. A stranger was basically asking him to sit on her lap. It was questionable.
She smiled.
"It'll be like old times, little brother."
He ignored the invitation. He just sat opposite her at the small table.
Her lips tremble for a second but she sliced a piece of cake and put it on her plate.
"Is chocolate still your favorite?"
Grabbing a plate, he also ate a piece of cake.
The rich, velvety chocolate melted on his tongue, a taste so familiar it felt like a memory, not a food.
"Yes. How did you know?" he said after he swallowed, the sweet taste doing little to soothe the bitter awkwardness between them.
Taking another bite, Isabella covered her mouth.
"I used to bake it for you," she replied softly.
That caught him off guard. He stared at her, trying to pull up a memory, a single flash of a purple-haired woman baking in a kitchen. Not even Maddie baked. It was a rare treat that usually came from a box. A bit of guilt and regret creeped into him, having no memory of her.
Seeing his confusion, she explained.
"You were three, far too young to remember. Mother made me stop. She said it would make you soft and weak."
He shook his head.
"I don't remember," Ryker admitted.
She nodded slowly, a shadow passing over her violet eyes. The conversation turned stale as they continued eating in silence, awkwardly as estranged siblings with a psychopathic mother. What mundane thing would they even talk about? The weather? School? Family secrets?
He couldn't bring himself to ask her about the family. After all, to him they weren't family, that was Maddie and Liv, the people who were there for him. He might have the Dracula's blood but he didn't know them. So he asked something else.
"Did you alter my test?"
Her fork stopped mid-air. She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes looked dark.
"No."
A part of him didn't believe her, a part that still held hope that he wasn't defective again.
"It's okay if you did it to keep my identity a secret. I'm sure Valerica ordered it."
Isabella ate the last piece of cake on her plate. The expression on her face didn't change, it was genuine sadness for someone she didn't want to see hurt.
"I didn't."
Seeing the doubt in her brother's face she continued.
"Mother ordered me to keep you from using space magic and to keep your bloodline a secret. Not to sabotage your scores."
She put her fork down with a click that echoed in the quiet room.
"I'm sorry. But your score adequately represents your potenial. You are... an Iota. And I fear you'll always be one."
A tear trickled down her cheek. But her expression soon changed to the stoic demeanor Ryker was used to. She stood up and approached him.
Hearing her words made his throat scratchy. The truth hurt.
Putting her hand on his belly, her fingers traced the outline of his mana core. His body tensed. But he let her continue.
His entire stomach started to glow purple as if someone had put a flashlight in it.
"Your core is defective. It will never grow past Iota and your potential to wield magic is miniscule. No amount of mana crystals will advance it. You're broken, little brother," she delivered the diagnosis with a cold, clinical detachment, as if she were describing a faulty engine part.
He removed her hand.
"Right."
Then he looked at her with a smile. Fate let him be born without a mana core only to give him a defective one now. There was only one reaction he could have to this absurdity: to laugh.
She tilted her head. His laughing made her uncomfortable. This reaction wasn't what she was expecting.
"It's sad. You should be crying, you should be angry."
Ryker shook his head.
"I should be happy to even have a core."
His claws protruded and he drew his initial on the table with ice magic, a comforting act.
"Can an Iota reach S-rank?"
The question made her freeze. She was silent, her mind trying to comprehend what her broken brother was asking. She had lived her life being a tool for Valerica's ambition, and even after becoming the youngest S-rank, she felt worthless. Yet her brother wanted this life. Her chest tightened with a warmth she hadn't felt in a while.
He continued to carve the table.
"It's impossible."
She placed a hand on his head. For him, her touch was unfamiliar and a little awkward yet it still carried a hint of love.
Drawing in a long breath, she hesitated.
"But maybe with space magic and a lot of training, you'd have a one in a billion chance of succeeding."
Ryker smiled.
"I'll take it."
Would you like me to adjust the spacing between paragraphs further, such as by using an extra line break for scene shifts, or is this single-line spacing between paragraphs sufficient?