Luciens POV:
As Akashi's unwavering gaze pierces through my facade, I realise that he won't be satisfied until he has the answers he seeks. Well, I have nothing to lose by sharing my past, whether he comprehends it or not. "Very well," I concede, "if you insist on knowing, I'll have to delve into my own history as well." Akashi's nod of understanding encourages me to continue.
Let me shed some light on the intricacies of our society, particularly concerning quirks. There are three distinct classifications of quirk users. First are the Nexi. These are the most prevalent type of quirks among individuals, typically inherited from one or both parents. Nexi manifest in a diverse array of abilities, influenced by the genetic traits passed down through generations.
Then there are the Armaments. These quirks are unique in their ability to link a wielder's innate abilities to weapons, enhancing their combat prowess. Those gifted with Armament quirks can infuse their weapons with elemental powers, energy blasts, or other augmentations, rendering them formidable adversaries in battle.
Lastly, we have the Quintrics. Their role in society remains contentious among the denizens of Evergale. These individuals have undergone experimental procedures to either augment, supplement, or completely alter their innate quirks. Such transformations are only achievable through substantial financial investment, thus those who ascend to become Quintrics are predominantly of noble lineage. Their existence represents a convergence of privilege and power, as well as the moral ambiguities that accompany such advancements.
My lineage falls within the Armament category, as I'm sure you gathered from my mention of Starvol. The Agar family, my family, established its wealth in the early days when quirks first emerged. Thanks to our unique abilities, we were able to accumulate vast wealth and wield considerable influence over the lands of Evergale. Eventually, our family relocated to a city once known as Zenthia, where we lived lives of luxury and privilege.
But enough about my family's history. Let me delve into my own past. My father, a man admired by many, was destined to be the next head of the Agar family. His qualities were considered worthy of such a prestigious position. As for my mother, she was renowned as the epitome of beauty in our lands. Although she did not possess an Armament quirk, her beauty alone was enough to secure her acceptance into Zenthia society.
The two had met, and from what I had heard when I was a child, it was love at first sight. Sooner or later, I was born into a life of privilege and expectation. Being destined as the future head of the Agar family, I was surrounded by people showing me great deals of respect, setting the stage for a childhood filled with opportunities and advantages.
From my earliest memories, I recall the grandeur of our family estate in Zenthia, with sprawling gardens, lavish halls, and servants attending to our every need. My parents doted on me, providing me with the finest education and nurturing my innate talents. I was groomed for leadership, taught the intricacies of diplomacy, and trained in the art of combat. It was a childhood of luxury and refinement, where every whim was catered to and every desire fulfilled.
However, amidst the opulence and privilege, there were moments of profound significance that would shape the course of my life. When I was five years old, I witnessed an event that would forever alter my perception of the world and my place within it.
The shocking revelation of my father's affair with a maid leaves me in a state of utter disbelief. As I witness the scene unfold before my eyes, a scream of anguish and disbelief tears from my throat, reverberating through the halls of the mansion. The sound draws the attention of the entire household, including my mother, who rushes to the source of the commotion.
With tears streaming down her face, my mother gasps in horror at the sight before her. "Cassius!" she cries out, her voice trembling with shock and betrayal.
Meanwhile, my father, reacts swiftly, wielding his quirk with deadly precision. Conjuring a bow of vivid crimson, he takes aim at the maid, his expression cold and determined. With a swift motion, he releases the arrow, and in an instant, the maid's life is snuffed out, her head violently severed from her body.
Silence descends upon the room as the gravity of the situation sinks in. Cassius's chilling words hang in the air like a heavy shroud, a stark warning to all who bear witness to the grisly scene. His eyes blaze with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine, his facial expression twisted into a mask of cold determination. "If any of you were to breathe a word of this," he threatens, his voice dripping with malice, "you will meet the same fate."
The atmosphere is thick with fear and tension as the household staff and my mother stand frozen, grappling with the horrifying reality of what they have just witnessed. In that moment, my perception of my father shatters, replaced by a profound sense of fear and betrayal.
The revelation of my mother's pregnancy should have brought joy, especially with the news of twins on the way. Yet, the atmosphere in our mansion remained tense, an undercurrent of unease swirling around those who were privy to recent events. While some offered congratulations to my parents, those who had witnessed my father's violent outburst remained silent, their apprehension palpable.
As night descended, I felt a pull toward my mother's chambers, a sense of dread settling heavy in my chest. Peering cautiously through the partially open door, I was met with a scene that froze me in horror.
My father, consumed by his rage once more, unleashed a brutal assault upon my defenceless mother. Each blow landed with sickening force, accompanied by cruel words that cut deeper than any physical wound. "Why did you announce your pregnancy before telling me?" His voice dripped with venom as he struck her relentlessly, his foot pressing down on her swollen stomach with a sickening fervour.
"One useless son is enough," he spat with contempt, "now I've got to deal with two more pieces of trash." My mother's cries of pain and protest fell on deaf ears as my father's grip tightened around her throat, robbing her of breath and voice.
"D-don't talk about Lucien like tha—" she managed to gasp out before my father's fingers closed around her windpipe, silencing her with a chilling finality. The twisted smile that twisted my father's lips sent a shiver down my spine, his eyes burning with a terrifying mix of madness and malice as he choked the life out of his own wife.
Reluctantly, my father released his grip, allowing my mother to crumple to the ground, gasping for air amidst the wreckage of her dignity. Even in her weakened state, her eyes burned with defiance, a silent declaration of her strength in the face of cruelty.
My mother, still gasping for air and struggling to regain her composure, manages to croak out the words, "Who are you?" Her voice is raspy, laced with pain and confusion.
My father fixes her with a cold, unyielding stare and responds with chilling certainty, "I am Cassius Agar, the future head of the Agar family. And it is I who will reshape Evergale." With a cruel grip on her hair, he forces her to meet his gaze as he delivers his next blow.
"Didn't you say your love for me would remain unchanged?" she pleads, desperation evident in her voice.
A twisted smile plays upon my father's lips as he retorts, "Indeed, it is unchanged, for it had never existed in the first place." His words cut deeper than any physical wound, leaving my mother reeling with the realisation of his betrayal.
With a callous disregard for her suffering, my father continues his tirade, revealing his true intentions with chilling clarity. "The only benefit you bring to me is your beauty," he spits, his voice dripping with disdain. "I will use that to my advantage to achieve my goals. You will amass the crowds with your beauty while I conquer over them. A great plan, am I right?"
In a final act of defiance, my mother summons all her strength and spits in my father's face, a gesture of defiance in the face of his cruelty. Enraged, my father releases her and rises to his feet, his eyes ablaze with fury.
"I said I was going to use your beauty," he snarls, his voice a venomous hiss, "meaning I would have to preserve it." With a wicked smile, he delivers a brutal kick to her already battered face, the force of his blow rendering her unrecognisable.
As the once-revered beauty of our lands lies broken and bloodied at his feet, my father's manic laughter echoes through the room, a chilling reminder of the depths of his depravity.