Kalisto shifted his weight, eyeing the young man across from him. The room felt too small, the air too thick.
The last time he had seen this kid, he was skipping school and pretending as though he had lost his way—a far cry from the composed figure standing before him now.
This troublemaker was no longer the disinterested teenager Kalisto remembered. Instead, he seemed more at ease in his skin, walking with an air of confidence.
Or perhaps Kalisto just hadn't known him well enough.
"Well, well," the troublemaker said, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Didn't expect to see you here, Uncle."
Kalisto's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait.
"Don't call me uncle, brat. I'm barely thirty...."
The troublemaker waved him off with a lazy smile.
"Sounds old enough to me."
Kalisto studied him. The kid had the same cocky attitude, but there was something different about him now—something that made Kalisto's instincts tingle with unease.
"What are you really doing here?" he asked, his tone sharp.
"Oh, same as you," the troublemaker replied with an easy shrug.
"Assigned to babysit the kid. They thought it'd be better if two of us kept an eye on him. You know, make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."
Kalisto raised an eyebrow.
"Assigned?" His skepticism was clear.
"By who?"
The troublemaker chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"You know how it goes. Higher-ups like to play it safe, make sure everything stays in line. I guess they don't trust you to handle it alone."
"That so?" Kalisto's gaze narrowed, not buying it.
"Funny how you just so happen to get assigned to the same job, isn't it? What's the real reason?"
The troublemaker's grin faltered for only a split second—too brief for Kalisto to be certain, but enough for him to notice.
"Just lucky, I guess," the troublemaker replied nonchalantly, pushing off the wall to pace a few steps.
"Things work out for me sometimes."
Kalisto's eyes didn't leave him. There was something about the way the kid—no, the troublemaker—spoke that felt off.
But Kalisto wasn't in the mood to press further. He had enough on his plate as it was.
"Fine, whatever," he muttered, crossing his arms.
"So how'd you become a Walker, anyway?"
The troublemaker's grin returned, but it was less confident this time. He straightened slightly, his eyes flickering to the window as if weighing his answer.
"Oh, you know," he said, voice light but the words heavy with vagueness.
"Did what I had to do. Pulled a few strings, made the right moves. Got lucky, I guess."
"Vague," Kalisto said flatly, not buying the story for a second.
"Care to elaborate?"
The troublemaker shifted on his feet, his smirk becoming more of a half-grin.
"Not everything needs an explanation," he said smoothly. "Some things just... happen."
Kalisto stared at him, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
"Right..." he muttered, clearly unconvinced. He opened his mouth to say more, but then—just as quickly as the conversation had begun—the troublemaker's attention shifted.
His body tensed for a split second, and Kalisto followed his gaze toward the boy sitting by the window.
The boy stood suddenly, his movements swift, almost graceful, and without a word, he crossed the room toward the door.
"Hey, what's—" Kalisto began, his voice rising in confusion, but before he could finish, the boy reached the door, slammed it shut, and twisted the lock with a sharp click.
Kalisto's heart skipped a beat. "What the hell?!"
He rushed toward the door, his hand gripping the handle, but the door was solidly locked.
He tried again, throwing his weight against it, but the lock held firm.
"Dammit!" he cursed, his pulse quickening. His breathing came faster now, the pressure of the moment bearing down on him.
He turned to the troublemaker, his voice rising in panic.
"What the hell just happened? He locked us in!"
The troublemaker, of course, remained annoyingly calm. He stepped forward, testing the lock with a halfhearted twist of his own.
"Yup, looks like he locked us in," he said with a shrug.
"Don't get too worked up about it."
Kalisto's frustration boiled over.
"I'm not getting worked up!" he snapped, his mind racing.
This wasn't just a random lockout; there was something intentional about it. The kid was testing them—or worse, trapping them.
His fingers tightened around the door handle again, but no matter how hard he pulled, the door didn't budge.
"This isn't happening," Kalisto muttered, the feeling of being trapped like a vice around his chest. His heartbeat hammered in his ears, panic creeping in.
The troublemaker leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, unbothered.
"Relax, it's just a door. We'll figure it out."
Kalisto turned to him, eyes wide with frustration.
"We don't have time to 'figure it out'! The kid's getting away!"
The sound of footsteps echoed outside, faint but unmistakable.
The boy was moving fast, probably making his escape while Kalisto and the troublemaker were locked in here, wasting time.
Kalisto's breath hitched in his throat. He wasn't going to let the kid slip away again.
He stepped back from the door, adrenaline surging through his veins.
"I'm getting out," Kalisto said through gritted teeth.
The troublemaker raised an eyebrow.
"You sure about that?"
Without waiting for an answer, Kalisto swung his shoulder into the door with all his might.
The impact was solid, but the door barely budged. He cursed under his breath and tried again, his fists now hammering against the wood.
He wasn't thinking. He wasn't calculating. He was moving on pure instinct now, the surge of panic overtaking him.
A third strike, and the door splintered. Kalisto shoved harder, forcing his shoulder into it until the wood cracked and the lock finally gave way with a loud snap.
The door flew open, and Kalisto stormed out into the hallway, his breath ragged.
"Let's go!" he barked at the troublemaker, not looking back.
The kid was getting away, and Kalisto wasn't about to lose him.
The troublemaker followed him out with a slow, almost amused pace, his hands in his pockets.
"Nice work," he said with a grin.
"But next time, maybe try a little more finesse."
Kalisto didn't respond. His eyes were already scanning the hallway, searching for any sign of the boy.
...
In a certain hotel room, the man draped in moonlit armor sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers lightly tapping on the phone in his hand.
The room was quiet, the muted hum of the city outside barely reaching the window. He took a breath and dialed the number with a deliberate motion.
The phone rang twice before a woman's voice came through—sharp, efficient, and unmistakably commanding.
"Yes?" Her tone was brisk, clipped, as if she was already moving through her next task.
The man didn't waste any time.
"Have you assigned any Walkers to keep Reves out of trouble? The last thing we need is him making a scene again."
There was a brief pause, the woman likely sorting through her schedule.
"I've made arrangements," she replied. "I've assigned someone to keep an eye on him for now—Kalisto."
The man's brow furrowed slightly at the mention of Kalisto's name.
"Kalisto? Is he up to the task?"
The woman's voice remained steady.
"For the time being, yes. Kalisto has a low-profile ability—[Coin Luck Accumulation]. It's subtle, almost invisible to anyone who doesn't know what to look for. He accumulates good luck through good deeds, but it's quiet, passive. People barely notice it, and most importantly, it won't draw any attention from Reves."
The man leaned back in his chair, thoughtful.
"So he's just a temporary solution? You're not planning on keeping him around when the others return?"
"Exactly," she confirmed without hesitation.
"Kalisto is a temporary guard. The actual team assigned to Reves will be back soon, but until then, Kalisto will make sure the boy stays out of trouble. His ability won't make Reves idolize him, and he certainly won't draw any unwanted attention. Kalisto's job is to blend in, not to stand out."
The man seemed to relax a fraction, though his mind still churned with doubts.
"And you're sure Kalisto can handle it? He won't... fail?"
"He's capable," the woman replied confidently.
"He's not a show-off or someone who seeks the spotlight. He's methodical and effective. I trust him for the short term, and that's all we need right now. Reves isn't the type to follow someone for their power—Kalisto is low-key enough to keep him in check."
The man's expression softened slightly.
"Alright. I'll take your word for it. Let me know if anything changes."
"You'll be the first to know," she replied, the finality in her tone leaving no room for argument.
"And if anything unexpected happens, Kalisto will handle it until the real team gets back."
The man nodded, as if accepting her judgment.
"Good. Keep an eye on him. Let's avoid any complications."
"I will," she affirmed. "Take care."
The line clicked off, and the man placed the phone down with a small sigh. Kalisto.
He was a temporary measure—nothing more. But if the woman trusted him, so would he. For now.
The man turned his gaze to the window, where the moonlight filtered through, bathing the room in a cool glow.
He had no doubt that Reves would be trouble, but if Kalisto could keep the boy out of it until the proper team returned, that would buy them time to handle the bigger issues at play.
For now, that was enough.