Lumen carried the book home.
The city did not seem to notice.
Streetlamps burned steadily, vendors closed their stalls, and people passed one another with the same careless rhythm as always. Lumen walked among them, the grimoire held close beneath his coat, its presence neither warm nor cold—
just there, like a thought that refused to leave.
By the time he reached his neighborhood, the streets had grown narrower.
The buildings leaned closer together, their walls stained with age and neglect.
He climbed the worn staircase of his apartment block, each step creaking under his weight.
The door opened with a soft click.
His room was small.
Cramped.
A single space that barely deserved to be called a home.
A thin mattress lay pressed against the wall. A folding table stood near the window, its surface scarred by years of use.
Shelves made from stacked wooden crates held a few books, clothes, and nothing else of value.
The air smelled faintly of dust and damp concrete.
Lumen stepped inside and closed the door.
The moment it shut, the silence felt heavier.
He placed the book on the table.
The grimoire looked wrong in this room—too clean, too intact, too deliberate.
As though it had been waiting for a place like this.
In a moment, he simply fell on the bed,and closing his eyes...
"What a strange day it was..." he said.
He thought "Why..Why does weird things happen to only me..."
He then fell into deep sleep.
— Years Ago —
When Lumen's parents disappeared, the world did not collapse.
It shifted.
People arrived quickly at first—relatives, neighbors, acquaintances who spoke in hushed voices and avoided eye contact.
They offered condolences, food, and vague assurances that everything would work out.
No one knew what to do with him.
His parents' marriage had never been welcomed by their families.
They had chosen each other without permission—crossing lines of class, belief, and expectation.
Their union had been tolerated only because they remained distant.
Now they were gone.
And their child remained.
The first house he was sent to belonged to his mother's relatives.
It was large, well-kept, filled with framed photographs of smiling family members.
Lumen was not in any of them.
From the beginning, he felt the distance.
Meals were quiet. Conversations stopped when he entered the room.
His presence felt like an obligation rather than a comfort.
"You should be grateful," his aunt said one evening when he hesitated before eating.
"We didn't have to take you in."
He nodded.
Soon to lumen,Gratitude became instinct.
Her son was older.
And cruel in the casual way children are when they know adults won't interfere.
At home, he ignored Lumen.
Outside, he targeted him.
One afternoon, they were sent to the park together.
The sun was bright. Children laughed. Swings creaked in the distance. Everything looked normal.
The cousin shoved Lumen from behind.
"Walk faster."
Lumen stumbled but said nothing.
They moved farther from the playground, toward the trees that bordered the park.
Lumen was scared.
He said nervously "Th..This...T..This is the forest which is rumoured to be the place where a bear which escaped from the zoo is there!".
Hia cousin said " So what!?,We are going to see if those rumors are true!."
"Let's go into the forest," the boy said suddenly, a grin forming on his face.
Lumen stopped.
"I don't want to."
The boy turned slowly.
"What? You scared?"
Lumen shook his head, fingers tightening at his side.
The boy stepped closer, voice lowering.
"Is that why your parents left you?"
Something snapped.
Not loudly.
Not visibly.
But deep inside Lumen's chest.
Anger surged—sharp and unfamiliar—yet his body refused to move.
They entered the forest.
The trees stood closer than they should have.
Lumen noticed it the moment they stepped past the last rusted park fence. The laughter from the playground didn't fade naturally—it cut off, like a sound being turned down by an unseen hand.
His cousin walked ahead, kicking pebbles, whistling badly.
"See?" he said. "Nothing scary."
Lumen didn't answer.
The forest smelled damp. Old. Like soil that hadn't seen the sun in a long time.
Leaves carpeted the ground thick enough to muffle footsteps, and every few steps, Lumen felt the strange urge to look behind him.
Not because he heard something.
Because it felt rude not to.
The deeper they went, the more the light changed.
Sunlight filtered through the branches in narrow, uneven strips, breaking the ground into fragments of brightness and shadow.
The shadows didn't move with the wind. They stayed where they were, as if nailed in place.
The cousin slowed.
"…Why is it so quiet?"
Lumen swallowed.
He could hear his own breathing too clearly.
A sudden snap echoed somewhere to their left.
The cousin flinched. "Probably just an animal."
Another sound followed.
Not a step,
Not a rustle.
Something closer to a drag.
Lumen's chest tightened.
"I think we should go back," he said quietly.
The cousin laughed, though the sound cracked midway. "What? Now you're scared?"
Lumen got nervous he said "No..No..I..Am not...Scared..." but it was clear that he was scared.Tears began to drop down of his eyes.
Cousin laughed at him and gave a sadistic smile at him.
He stepped closer to Lumen, lowering his voice.
"What a scaredy cat..."
Tears where still dropping of Lumen
His cousin continued "Maybe if you cry loud enough, your parents will come back."
Lumen eyes got wide open.
His cousin continued "Is this why your parent left you?."
The words lingered in the air.
Is that why your parents left you?
For a moment, Lumen didn't breathe.
Something inside him—something he had kept buried under silence, obedience, and hunger—broke.
"No…" he whispered.
Then—
he screamed.
Not a cry.
Not a shout.
A monstrous scream, torn from somewhere deeper than his lungs, ripping through the forest like a blade.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!."
It echoed between the trees, violent and raw, shaking leaves loose from their branches.
Birds exploded from the canopy in panicked flocks.
Small animals scattered through the undergrowth, fleeing as if a predator had awakened.
The forest recoiled.
The cousin stumbled back, eyes wide, ears ringing.For a heartbeat, fear rooted him to the ground.Then pride kicked in.
"What do you think you're doing?!" he shouted, voice trembling despite himself.
"You think you're scary or something?!"
The air grew heavier.
Too heavy.
A deep sound rolled through the trees.
Not a whisper.
Not a branch snapping.
A roar,Low,Thunderous,Alive.
The ground vibrated faintly beneath their feet.
The bushes ahead burst apart.
A massive shape emerged.
Brown fur matted and thick, muscles coiled beneath skin scarred by old battles.
Its breath steamed in the cold air as it lifted its head and roared again—loud enough to make Lumen's ears ring.
"A—A—A BEAR!!" the cousin screamed.
Panic shattered whatever courage he had left.
But Lumen didn't move.
He didn't run.
Instead—
his legs gave out.
He fell to his knees, palms pressed into the damp earth,not out of fear but because of the monstrous scream that came out of him.
The scream died in his throat.
Silence followed.
Slowly,unnaturally and slowly Lumen turned his head.
The cousin watched, frozen in terror, as Lumen gave a creepy smile and phsychopath like expression.
His eye colour magically changed from blue to red.
His cousin was horrified.He almost got pissed on his pants due to lumen's Monstrous expression.
Replaced by deep crimson, glowing faintly in the forest's shadow.
A pressure radiated outward—thick, suffocating, primal.
The air itself seemed to bend toward him.
Lumen Made his smile bigger.
It wasn't wide,it wasn't joyful it was…wrong.
"Yo...," he said softly, voice steady, calm, almost casual.
"How are you, pest....."
The bear froze.
Its roar died in its throat.
Its massive body trembled as it stared into Lumen's eyes—into something far deeper than a human gaze.
For a moment, predator and prey were unclear.
Then the bear whimpered.
A sound too small for something so large.
It turned and fled—crashing through trees, tearing through brush, running without looking back.
The forest held its breath.
Then released it.
The red in Lumen's eyes faded.
He blinked.
Confusion crossed his face.
"…What?" he murmured.
The cousin didn't wait.
He screamed and ran—legs burning, lungs screaming—bursting from the forest and sprinting all the way home, tears streaking down his face.
The cousin reached home screaming.
He burst through the front door, sobbing so violently he could barely breathe, clinging to his mother's clothes as he spoke in broken sentences—about the forest, the scream, the bear, and Lumen's eyes,The creepy Red eyes.
That detail mattered most.
Adults exchanged glances,Fear didn't arrive immediately.
First came denial.
"He's just exaggerating." said his father.
"Yes,Children often imagine things." Followed his mother.
"You let him scare you, that's all." Said His mother.
But the cousin wouldn't stop shaking.He knew he saw something inside lumen's eyes which was inhuman.
He was full of fear.He vomited that night.
And when he was said to sleep,he woke screaming from a nightmare—muttering red eyes under his breath—the denial cracked.
Lumen was called into the living room.
He stood alone on the carpet, hands at his sides, eyes lowered.
The adults formed a half-circle around him.
Not angry.
Cautious.
That was worse.
"Did you go into the forest?" his uncle asked.
Lumen nodded.
"Did you scare him on purpose?"
"No." Replied Lumen.
That was the truth.
But truth didn't matter anymore.
They said "Don't lie!,You deliberately scared him,shouted his cousin's mother!."
They searched him.
Not roughly—but thoroughly.
His bag,His pockets,His clothes.
As if expecting to find proof of something inhuman.
Lumen's cousin who was shut in his room muttered a prayer under their breath.
That night, Lumen wasn't allowed to sleep inside.
They laid a thin blanket in the storage room near the back of the house.
"For everyone's peace," his aunt said, avoiding his eyes.
The door was not locked,But it didn't need to be.
Whispers filled the house.
Words like omen, inheritance, blood.
They spoke as if Lumen weren't there.
As if he were already something else.
In the early hours of morning, a decision was made.
Quietly and Efficiently.
Before fear had time to grow into panic,from their house to their neighbourhood,
Lumen was woken before sunrise.
His bag was already packed,No explanations were offered,No goodbyes.
Just instructions.
"We can't have you with us anymore!.You'll be staying somewhere else with your other relatives,i already talked with them."
His cousin's father whispered"It's better this way."
"For everyone."
As he stood by the door, shoes in hand, his cousin peeked from behind a wall.
Their eyes met.
The cousin flinched.
Not because Lumen looked angry—
but because he looked empty.
The ride to the next house was silent.
Lumen watched the city pass by, familiar streets fading into unfamiliar ones.
He didn't ask where they were going.
He already knew the answer.
Away.
That was the first time Lumen understood something important:
It didn't matter what he intended.
It didn't matter what was true.
Once people believed he was dangerous,
they would never see him as human again.
Then again and again he was changed from there to the place of another relative,he moved again and again,but every relative of his parents moved him somewhere else to next person's house.
...
Present
Knock knock! There was a knock at lumen's door.
The knock was sharp and sudden.
Lumen jolted awake.
For a moment, he didn't know where he was. His chest rose too quickly, breath shallow, the remnants of the forest still clinging to him like mist.
He thought " I remembered it again....I guess memories just don't fade away."
Then—
Knock. Knock.
He blinked and looked around his room.
The dim light.
The cramped walls.
The grimoire resting silently on the table.
Reality settled back into place.
He reached for his phone.
9:02 AM.
His eyes widened.
"Oh no—!" Lumen shot up from the mattress. "I'm late to high school!"
He moved on instinct.
Uniform thrown on in a hurry, buttons fastened unevenly, hair hastily smoothed down with damp fingers.
He grabbed his bag, nearly tripping over the edge of the mattress as he rushed to the door.
The knocking came again—lighter this time, almost impatient.
"I'm coming!" he called out.
Lumen unlocked the door and pulled it open.
And froze.
A girl stood in the hallway.
Blonde hair tied neatly behind her head, catching the morning light.
Clear blue eyes. A calm, unreadable smile. She wore the same school uniform as him—but it looked different on her.
Cleaner and Sharper,Like it had never known a rushed morning.
An expensive, stylish bag hung from her shoulder, its polished surface painfully out of place in the narrow, worn hallway.
For a second, Lumen forgot how to breathe.
"S..Student Council president?!" he blurted out.