He mocked his reflection with a dry smirk before washing the remaining blood away. After swallowing a painkiller, he stepped out of the bathroom and entered the bedroom he had passed earlier.
It was clearly an adult's room. He grabbed a clean T-shirt and a jacket. Both hung loosely on his smaller frame.
I need to find a way to clear Aren Donovan's name without getting caught.
Silence greeted him in the hallway.
He stepped into the living room. High ceilings, rustic furniture, and massive pillars gave the space the feel of a sprawling mansion. Yet the silence carried the isolation of a forest lodge.
The windows confirmed it: the house stood alone in the woods.
He turned toward the kitchen, intent on escaping through the back door, but his foot snagged. He stumbled.
"Huh?"
He frowned, looking down.
"A… teddy bear?"
Footsteps.
The sound froze him mid-rise.
They're here already.
Through the rhythmic drumming of rain, the stealthy approach was unmistakable. He crouched behind the sofa, lungs burning as he held his breath.
Damn it—I stayed too long.
The front door exploded inward. Ten soldiers surged inside—a blur of black combat armor and masks.
They gripped weapons straight out of a sci-fi nightmare. On their shoulders, a specific emblem caught the light: two overlapping squares with L-shaped markings.
Avalon Wardens. No doubt.
Great. Armed soldiers. Just what I needed.
I can survive this, he thought. At least it isn't Aegis.
He remembered the novel's lore. The Mohen Holy Kingdom rested on three pillars: Castle for dungeons, Avalon Wardens for civil order, and Aegis for Nyx-related crimes.
If the Wardens were here, his being a Nyx would still be safe.
"Search every room!" a man barked. "Look for survivors!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Sir… everyone is dead."
Aren frowned, peeking over the sofa's edge. Several Avalon Wardens clustered around a man slumped on the couch—someone he had overlooked in his haste.
Golden hair gleamed under the fluorescent buzz. A jagged slit opened in the man's throat; his face remained a mask of frozen terror.
One iris in his open eyes was like a frozen glacier, and the other was ruby red, as if death itself couldn't erase the fear.
Aren didn't need to guess.
He knew that face.
His father.
Aren stared at the corpse for a long moment.
So this is the man whose life I'm wearing.
Only now did he notice the other corpses littering the rug.
"Commander! Someone's alive!"
The relief in the soldier's voice sent a jolt of ice through Aren's veins.
"Wait," a soldier grumbled behind his mask. "Look at her face. Is that…?"
The commander approached, kneeling to examine the survivor.
While the soldiers focused on the corpses, Aren crawled across the floor and slipped into the kitchen.
"Commander! No survivors elsewhere. Everyone's dead," a soldier reported. A weary sigh followed.
"At least we have one," the commander said. "Secure Madam Eli Bryne. Bring her to the base. We'll question her once she's stable."
"Madam Eli Bryne? Who is she?"
"You don't know her?" another soldier snapped. He opened his mouth to explain, but the woman's eyes flew open.
"Commander, she's awake!"
"We can see that," the commander muttered, silencing the chatter.
The woman's gaze darted around, disoriented. Masked figures loomed over her. Alarm clouded her face.
"Don't be afraid. We are Avalon Wardens," the commander said, her voice steady.
Despite her wounds, the woman lunged. She gripped the commander's arm with frantic strength.
"The monster! It did this! That monster!" she shrieked. "It's going to kill us—every single one of us!"
They exchanged uneasy glances.
"A monster?"
"Intelligence mentioned no monsters in this sector."
As the soldiers murmured, the woman's gaze locked onto a shadow. Through the open kitchen door, she saw Aren reaching for a knife. Her arm shot up. A trembling finger pointed directly at him.
"There! The monster is right there!"
Aren turned at the scream. Across the room, the commander followed the woman's gesture.
Their eyes met across the room.
Aren gripped his knife. His eyes sharpened, locking onto his prey with predatory focus.
Across the room, the commander barked an order.
"Fire!"
Gunfire erupted. The roar was deafening. Aren dove behind the kitchen island as marble splintered under a hail of lead. Sparks flew; cabinet doors shattered.
Rainwater pooled on the floor, seeping through a broken pane. Aren crouched low to steady his breathing. A sharp warmth bloomed across his abdomen—the wound had reopened—but he shoved the pain aside.
They didn't even check if I was the culprit.
They're shooting to kill.
Why?
So that's how it works here.Shoot first. Ask questions later.
"Two of you—move in from the right!" the commander shouted.
Boots thudded. Closer now.
Aren grabbed a heavy serving pan from a lower cabinet. As the first soldier rounded the corner, he hurled it.
The pan struck the man's head with a heavy crack. Seizing the opening, Aren lunged, driving his knife deep into the soldier's thigh. The man groaned and collapsed.
The second soldier raised his rifle. Aren rolled across the floor, delivering a stinging strike to the man's wrist. The weapon clattered onto the tiles.
"Get him!"
Two more soldiers lunged. Aren snatched the fallen rifle, checking the magazine in a single, practiced motion. Half full. A haughty smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Well… things just got interesting."
He fired twice. One bullet pierced the lead soldier's heart; the other caught him square in the forehead. The man dropped.
The remaining soldier stared at his fallen comrade, then at the boy. Aren's breathing remained steady, his eyes cold. He read the man's terror like an open book.
Lightning split the sky, flooding the hall with a blinding glare. Aren seized the moment. He dashed left and fired a single shot into the ceiling lamp. Glass rained down, plunging the room into darkness.
"Damn it! He shot out the lights! We've lost him!" a Warden shouted.
Aren stopped at the corridor's edge. He listened, counting the approaching footsteps.
Three.
"Damn it! They said B-rank. This is A+… maybe even S!"
"Keep your voice down, idiot," a second voice hissed.
"The commander likely reported this to headquarters. Once Aegis arrives, the kid won't be our problem."
"Exactly. Dealing with corrupted Nyx isn't our job, anyway."
Aren frowned. He stood in the shadows, listening to their hushed exchange as the implications began to sink in.