Waking up with the sun flashing in all its naked glory on my face and blinding me is not the greatest feeling, but the bigger question is—where the hell is the roof of my room?
And why am I lying on a wet floor instead of my bed? Wait a minute… wet floor. Did I piss myself? Nah! I haven't done that since I was ten… or did I? I raised my hand toward my face, still lying down, and saw red liquid dripping from my fingers.
The metallic smell in the air confirmed it—yep, that's blood.
I wondered why I always had these weird-ass dreams and shut my eyes, waiting to wake up. But then a chilling realization hit me.
I don't think you can smell in a dream.
My eyes shot open, scanning my surroundings. I was inside an abandoned building, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the pool of blood and gore I was lying in.
I felt something squishy under my foot and looked down.
A smashed eyeball.
Like any sane person, I did what was expected of an upright citizen.
"Uggghhhhh…"
I emptied my stomach until I felt like my guts would also come out of my mouth. Leaning against a wall, I tried to process what the hell I was seeing. Waking up in a pool of blood was never on my to-do list, and this was way too real to be a dream.
Did I sleepwalk into the middle of some warzone? Nah, that's impossible. I was 100% sure I fell asleep in my room. I didn't drink last night… Or did I?
After a few seconds of debating with myself about what would be the best course of action in this situation, I have come to the conclusion that there is no option other than to use my family's secret technique.
It was a technique that my grandpa used whenever ladies used to chase after him, or that was what he used to say, it is a very powerful but effective technique that is called 'RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN.'
Ignoring the stickiness and wetness of my clothes, I turned away from the gruesome scene, not wanting to linger any longer.
"Did you do this?"
I froze.
My body stiffened. My eyes locked forward.
I didn't turn around. I didn't speak. Like hell I could talk—even I didn't know what was happening.
"Hello?"
Nope. Not dealing with this.
I hastened my steps, acting like I hadn't heard anything, not wanting to be caught. After all, what will I even say to the authorities?
'Oh! Dear officer, I don't know what I'm doing here, but believe me, officer, I just woke up here covered in blood instead of in my home.'
Yeah! Like hell, they'll believe me even if I won't believe it if someone says this to me.
The first thing I had to do was get out of here and figure out how to get rid of these blood-soaked clothes.
"Hey! I asked you something!"
And then—a clumsy yelp and a loud thud.
I hesitated. That was not the sound of someone chasing after me. That was the sound of someone falling over their own feet.
Against my better judgment, I turned around.
Lying on the ground, tangled in what looked like her own coat, was a blonde girl. She had bright blue eyes, an innocent, almost childlike face, and an aura that just screamed innocent but hopelessly clumsy.
She was also staring directly at me with wide, concerned eyes.
"You're covered in blood…" she muttered, pushing herself up and dusting off her coat. "Are you hurt?"
…Huh?
"Uh," I blinked. "No?"
"Oh, thank goodness!" She smiled in genuine relief before tilting her head. "Then… whose blood is that?"
FUCK! FUCK! Why the hell did I even turn around?!
Before, if I had gotten caught, I could have only been charged with genocide—not like that's any good when I haven't even done anything—but if I got caught now, there is no way I'll be able to explain anything to anyone! And on top of that, I will even be charged as a pedophile.
"What are you doing here, kid? And where are your parents? Go back to your parents."
Ignoring her question about the blood. I started questioning her wanting her to go back, and if she didn't, I'd get the fuck out of here, and this time without fail.
The girl tilted her head, confusion flashing across her face. "Wait… what do you mean, kid? You're clearly younger than me."
I frowned. "What? No, I'm not." What the heck is this girl even talking about? How am I supposed to be younger than her? Is she joking?
She blinked, looking genuinely puzzled. "Uh… yeah, you are. How old are you supposed to be?"
I opened my mouth to answer but stopped. A creeping sense of unease crawled up my spine.
Something was wrong.
I hadn't really thought about it—too busy panicking over waking up in blood and gore—but now that I did… my voice. My hands. My height.
My stomach twisted.
Slowly, I raised my hands, staring at my fingers. They were smaller than I remembered. Too small. My clothes... no rags were also oversized, and even my movements felt… off.
"Wait…" My voice came out quieter than I expected. No. No, no, no—something wasn't right.
The girl stepped closer, tilting her head again. "You really didn't know?"
My breath hitched. The air suddenly felt thick, pressing down on me. My skull throbbed—no, pounded.
And then—pain.
Blinding, searing pain erupted in my head like a thousand needles stabbing my brain at once. My knees buckled, and I barely managed to stumble back before my vision blurred.
Memories—not mine, yet mine—rushed in all at once. Starvation. Homelessness. The cold streets. Demons. Death.
Too much. It was too much.
I barely registered the girl yelping before everything turned black.
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Lavinia Reni trudged through the quiet streets, her usually cheerful expression marred by a slight pout. The crisp morning air nipped at her cheeks, but it wasn't the cold that had her in a sour mood.
Glenda had left her.
Just like that, without much of an explanation. One day, she was there, and the next, she was gone, telling her to join Grauzauberer because she needed to 'socialize' more.
Socialize?
Lavinia huffed, kicking a stray pebble as she walked. "She could've at least explained things properly," she muttered to herself. "Instead of leaving a letter telling me to join Grauzauberer and without even saying goodbye…"
She knew it wasn't fair to be too upset. Grauzauberer was a prestigious magic organization, and joining them was an incredible opportunity. But still, a part of her couldn't shake the bitterness. They had been together for so long, Glenda was her only family after her parent's death, and now even she has left, once again leaving her all alone.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, but before she could stew in her frustration any further, a pulse of energy pricked at her senses.
Magic.
Dark, unstable, and wild magic. Coming from an alleyway nearby.
Lavinia's blue eyes widened as she halted in her tracks. "What in the world…?"
Her frustrations forgotten, she turned on her heel and made her way toward the source, her boots tapping against the pavement. The energy felt wrong—chaotic, uncontrolled. The kind that left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
As she reached the entrance of the alley, she gasped.
A boy, covered in blood, was walking away from the gruesome scene. She tried to call him but seeing that the boy is Ignoring her. She used her magic to catch him, but she slipped into the blood and fell down instead of chasing after him.
Lavinia looked up from the ground and stared at the boy who had finally turned around and because of the building, the dim light barely illuminated his face, but she could see the shock and confusion in his eyes. He looked lost and disoriented.
Her heart clenched. "You're covered in blood…" she muttered, stepping closer. "Are you hurt?"
The boy blinked at her, as if her words took a moment to register. "Uh… No?"
Relief flooded her chest, but confusion followed quickly after. "Then… whose blood is that?"
She watched as the boy's expression twisted, panic flickering across his face before he quickly changed the subject.
"What are you doing here, kid? And where are your parents? Go back to your parents."
Lavinia blinked at him. "…Kid?"
Was he serious? He couldn't have been more than a few years younger than her. She tilted her head, taking a closer look at him. His voice, his posture, even the way he carried himself—it didn't match the body she was seeing in front of her.
"Wait… What do you mean, kid?" she asked, frowning. "You're clearly younger than me."
The boy's face scrunched up. "What? No, I'm not."
Lavinia hesitated. Something wasn't adding up. He was acting like he genuinely didn't realize it. "Uh… yeah, you are. How old are you supposed to be?"
He opened his mouth, then stopped. His expression darkened, confusion morphing into something deeper. His breathing grew uneven, and his hands trembled slightly.
A tense silence stretched between them before his eyes widened in sheer horror. "Wait…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Then, it happened.
The boy staggered, gripping his head as if it were about to split open. His body convulsed, and Lavinia barely had time to step forward before he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.
"Ahh—!!" she yelped, rushing over. "H-Hey! Are you okay?!"
Of course, he wasn't okay. He had just dropped like a sack of potatoes!
Kneeling beside him, she hesitated before shaking his shoulders lightly. "Oh no… oh no, oh no, oh no…" she murmured, panic creeping into her voice. "What do I do? Should I find a healer? Or—wait, no, I don't even know who he is!"
Her frustration with Glenda had completely evaporated, replaced by concern for the strange boy who had collapsed in front of her. She had no idea what had just happened, but one thing was clear—this boy wasn't normal.
And now, she was stuck with him.