The small shack was quiet as dusk fell over the slums. Kael sat cross-legged on the floor, the forbidden book resting open in his lap. The flickering light of a candle illuminated the pages, casting dancing shadows on the cracked walls.
His gray eyes were fixed on a series of diagrams depicting the anatomy of a Rift Beast, lines of glowing runes running alongside it. This passage detailed methods for exploiting a monster's weaknesses, using pain and dominance to force submission. The words filled Kael's mind with possibilities, each one sharper and darker than the last.
He turned the page, his pulse quickening as the runes shifted, rearranging themselves into new instructions. The deeper he delved into the book, the clearer its message became: tamers who relied on trust and bonds were wasting their potential. The real power came from control, from the ability to bend even the strongest of monsters to one's will.
A faint creak of the door broke Kael's concentration. He snapped the book shut and slid it under the loose floorboard in a single motion.
Eren stepped inside, his face lit with an eagerness Kael hadn't seen in a long time.
"Kael," Eren said, practically breathless. "You won't believe it. They accepted me."
Kael leaned back against the wall, his expression unreadable. "Of course they did. That crystal glowed bright enough to blind them."
Eren grinned, dropping into a sitting position on the floor across from Kael. "They want me to start training tomorrow. They said I've got the potential to bond with higher-tier monsters. Can you imagine?"
Kael forced a smirk. "Good for you."
Eren tilted his head, his grin faltering slightly. "You don't sound excited."
Kael shrugged. "What do you want me to say? Congratulations? You're going to be their new pet."
The words came out harsher than Kael intended, but he didn't regret them.
Eren's brow furrowed. "That's not fair. You don't know them. They're giving me a chance to make something of myself. To help people."
"Help people?" Kael scoffed. "The only people who help are themselves. They use their monsters to keep everyone else in line. You think they'll let you be any different?"
Eren's face hardened, his usual patience giving way to frustration. "Not everyone is like that, Kael. You can't paint them all with the same brush. Some tamers care about protecting the city."
Kael sat up, his gray eyes sharp. "Protecting the city? You mean protecting the nobles. Do you think they care about people like us? About the slums?"
"They might if someone like me is there to remind them," Eren shot back.
Kael let out a bitter laugh. "You think they'll listen to you? They'll use you until you're no longer useful, then toss you aside. That's how the world works."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, their years of friendship straining under the weight of their clashing perspectives.
Eren looked down, his fists clenched at his sides. "You've always been like this, you know. So cynical. So sure everyone's out to get you."
"Because they are," Kael said coldly.
Eren stood abruptly, his voice rising. "Not everyone, Kael! Not me. I'm trying to help you, but you won't even try to see the good in anything."
Kael stood as well, his expression hard. "Maybe because there isn't any good to see. I don't need their approval. I don't need their system. And I don't need you telling me how to live my life."
The words hit Eren like a blow. He stepped back, his face a mixture of anger and hurt.
"You don't mean that," Eren said quietly.
Kael didn't respond. He held Eren's gaze, his expression unreadable.
Eren shook his head, his voice tight. "Fine. Do whatever you want. Stay here in the shadows, hating the world. But I'm not going to let this chance pass me by."
He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Kael sat back down slowly, his hands trembling with barely contained frustration. Eren didn't understand. He couldn't.
The world wasn't built for people like them. Eren's hope was a weakness, a naïve fantasy that would get him crushed the moment he stepped out of line.
Kael's eyes drifted to the loose floorboard where the book was hidden. He pulled it out again, his fingers brushing over the rough cover.
He opened it to the pages he had been studying earlier, the diagrams and runes glowing faintly in the dim light.
The book didn't promise kindness or hope. It promised power.
Kael's lips curled into a small, bitter smile.
"If the world's a game, I'll rewrite the rules," he whispered to himself.
Eren returned late that night, his face tight with exhaustion, but his steps determined. He didn't speak to Kael, and Kael didn't acknowledge him. The tension between them hung heavy in the air, neither willing to bridge the gap that had opened between them.
As Eren lay down on his mat, Kael glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
He should have felt something guilt, perhaps, or regret. But all Kael felt was a growing sense of distance.
Eren was walking toward the light, and Kael had chosen the shadows.
There was no going back now.
The next day, Eren left early, his excitement palpable despite the previous night's argument. Kael watched him go from the window, his expression unreadable.
The slums felt quieter without Eren's presence. Kael spent the morning wandering the alleyways, observing the flow of life around him. The vendors, the children, the scavengers all of them lived their lives in a fragile balance, clinging to survival under the rule of the tamers.
Kael's mind returned to the book.
Eren was wrong. Kael didn't need the tamers or their academy. He had something far more valuable: knowledge. The book held secrets that no academy could teach, power that no noble could understand.
Kael's gaze drifted to the towering walls of the inner city.
One day, he thought. One day, they'll all see.
For now, he would bide his time.
That evening, Eren returned, his face flushed with excitement.
"You wouldn't believe what they had me do today," he said, dropping onto his mat. "They let me practice bonding with a Lesser Flame Hound. It wasn't easy, but…" He paused, grinning. "I think I'm getting the hang of it."
Kael nodded absently, not meeting Eren's gaze.
Eren frowned. "You're still mad."
"I'm not mad," Kael said quietly.
"Then what's your problem?"
Kael closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. "I just don't see the point."
"The point," Eren said, his voice firm, "is that we don't have to stay here forever. We can be something more."
Kael opened his eyes, his gray gaze sharp. "We? Or just you?"
Eren's face fell, but he didn't respond.
Kael shook his head, turning away. "Go play hero, Eren. But don't expect me to follow."
Eren stared at him for a long moment before lying down on his mat.
Neither of them spoke again that night.
Kael stayed awake long after Eren had fallen asleep, his mind churning with thoughts of the book, the tamers, and the growing chasm between him and the only person he had ever called a friend.
In the silence of the shack, Kael whispered to himself.
"I'll control the game, or I'll destroy it."
The words carried no regret, only resolve.