Visconti then continued, his tone casual, as if he were recounting a mundane event. "The head of the family—Lord Zenon—had... let's just say, many children. Too many. The family tree is more like a family web, with branches crossing all over the place. And when there's that much power and wealth at stake, people get... ambitious."
Elijah frowned. "Are you saying—"
"Assassinations," Visconti said bluntly. "It's a family tradition at this point. If you're not trying to climb the ladder, you're just waiting for someone to kick it out from under you."
Kieran stared at him, slack-jawed. "That's insane. You're kidding, right?"
Visconti shook his head, his smirk fading. "I wish I were. When I was eleven, I learned that lesson the hard way."
"What happened?" Elijah asked, his voice low.
Visconti's gaze turned distant, as if he were looking back at a memory he'd rather forget. "One of my older cousins decided that I was... inconvenient. I was a direct descendant of the main line, which made me a potential threat. One night, I woke up to the sound of my door creaking open. I thought it was just the wind, but then I saw the glint of a blade."
Kieran gasped. "Holy—"
"I panicked," Visconti continued, ignoring Kieran's outburst. "I couldn't scream, couldn't move. All I could think was, This is it. I'm going to die. And then... it happened."
"It?" Elijah prompted.
"My power awakened," Visconti said, his voice quiet. "One second, the room was normal. The next, it was freezing. Ice crawled up the walls, the floor, the bed—everything. The assassin slipped and fell, and before they could recover, they were encased in ice. Completely frozen. I didn't even know what I'd done until it was over."
Kieran whistled, clearly impressed. "Hydrofreezing, huh? That's badass."
Visconti nodded, his expression unreadable. "It saved my life, but it also painted a target on my back. Suddenly, I wasn't just another Zenon kid. I was the Zenon kid with a rare, powerful Esper ability. My family couldn't ignore me anymore, but that didn't mean they cared. It just meant they had more reasons to use me—or get rid of me."
"That's..." Elijah hesitated, unsure how to respond. "That's horrible."
Visconti shrugged. "It is what it is. The corps couldn't intervene—family matters are off-limits to them. So I had to figure things out on my own. I trained, got stronger, and made myself too dangerous to touch. Eventually, I decided to join the corps. It's not perfect, but at least here, I can use my power for something other than family politics."
Kieran leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, I thought my life was messy, but you guys... you've got me beat."
Visconti smirked again, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Welcome to the world of Espers, Kieran. Everyone's got a story, and most of them aren't pretty."
"Still," Elijah said, his tone sincere, "you've come a long way, Visconti. You've got a purpose now, and that's more than a lot of people can say."
Visconti met Elijah's gaze, and for a moment, the two shared an unspoken understanding. "Yeah," Visconti said softly. "I guess I do."
Elijah couldn't stop staring at Visconti after hearing his story. The words replayed in his mind, each detail sharper than the last
He couldn't help but compare it to his own family.
'Isn't a wolf better than his family?' Elijah thought bitterly. 'Even a wolf won't kill its own cubs.-
Visconti's tone had been calm, almost detached, as though recounting the brutal truth of his life was as mundane as discussing the weather. But for Elijah, it was far from mundane. The idea of a family turning on its own flesh and blood felt... monstrous.
And yet, as Elijah reflected on his own life, an uncomfortable thought crept in. At this point, isn't my family a little better?
Sure, his family were notorious criminals—murderer, manipulators, and lawbreakers. But as far as he knew, they had never turned their blades inward.
Augustus, for all his flaws, had never once raised a hand against him.
In their twisted, chaotic way, they had still managed to preserve some semblance of loyalty to their bloodline.
Elijah clenched his fists under the table, trying to suppress the rising tide of conflicting emotions.
'Is that really something to take pride in?' He asked himself. 'They're criminals, Elijah. They've hurt people, destroyed lives. Just because they don't kill their own doesn't make them good.'
And yet...
He glanced at Visconti, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Elijah thought about what it must have been like for an eleven-year-old to wake up to the sound of their own door creaking open, knowing that death was mere seconds away. He imagined the icy fear, the desperation, the cold realization that family meant nothing when power and wealth were at stake.
In that moment, Elijah couldn't decide which was worse—his own family's unrepentant villainy, or the Zenon family's cutthroat betrayal.
The silence stretched on, and Elijah finally spoke, his voice quiet. "I... I can't imagine what that must've been like, Visconti. To not even feel safe in your own home."
Visconti shrugged, his smirk making a brief return. "You get used to it. Or you die. Those are the only two options in my family."
Elijah hesitated, then said softly, "Even so... it's wrong. Family's supposed to protect each other, not..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
Visconti's gaze softened just a fraction. "Not everyone gets to have the kind of family they want, Elijah. You make do with what you've got."
Kieran, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly sat up straight and slammed his fist on the table. "Alright, that's it! I officially vote that we, as a team, are now each other's family. None of this betrayal crap. Agreed?"
Elijah blinked, startled by the sudden declaration. Visconti raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.
"Agreed," Elijah said after a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Agreed," Visconti added with a chuckle.
The three of them sat in the small common area of their dorm, the atmosphere heavy after Visconti's story. Kieran, usually the loudest and most cheerful of the group, seemed unusually quiet. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if trying to gather his thoughts.
"Alright," Kieran finally said, breaking the silence. "Guess it's my turn, huh?"
Visconti and Elijah nodded, both curious yet hesitant. Kieran's usual boisterous energy was missing, replaced by something quieter and heavier.
"I was adopted," he said.