Utibe had no recollection of the supernatural world. As far as he was concerned, it was just another ordinary day. The sleek black Ferrari pulled up outside his home, catching the attention of a few passing neighbors. He barely reacted, too lost in his thoughts. The principal, now just an unfamiliar yet oddly charismatic man to him, stepped out of the car with a composed air and knocked on the door.
His mother, youthful despite her age, answered with a raised brow.
"Good evening, ma'am. I'm Darius Malphas. Your son had a minor accident today, and I offered to bring him home," he introduced himself smoothly, his voice calm yet authoritative. "No need to worry, he's perfectly fine."
Mrs. Johnson studied him for a second before her gaze shifted to Utibe, who stood there looking completely unbothered. She sighed. "I appreciate it. Come in for a moment."
Darius stepped inside, taking in the humble yet well-kept home. The atmosphere felt warm, lived-in, but there was a certain strength in the air, a weight of discipline.
"You a teacher?" she asked casually, leading him to the living room.
"Something like that," he said with a small smirk. "I work in education and guidance. I help students find their… potential."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, sensing there was more to his words, but didn't press further. "Well, I appreciate the help, but this one here is a handful. He doesn't need more excuses to slack off."
Utibe scoffed. "I don't slack off, I just optimize my energy use."
His mother gave him a look that promised pain. Darius chuckled. "I see he's full of spirit."
"More like full of nonsense," she muttered. "Anyway, thank you for bringing him home, Mr. Malphas. You must be busy."
Darius took the hint and stood up, nodding. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. Take care, Utibe."
As soon as the door closed, Utibe grabbed a plate of food and inhaled it before dragging himself to bed. His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out cold.
Meanwhile, at the supernatural academy, the mind weaver who had erased his memory sat trembling. Blood trickled from her lips, and her disciples rushed to support her.
"Mistress, you need to rest!"
She waved them off weakly. "His mind… it resisted more than expected. I must enter seclusion to recover."
A heavy silence filled the room as she was carried away.
A week passed.
Utibe was in the training area, locked in another battle of humiliation against his mother. He lunged at her, aiming for a takedown, but she twisted effortlessly, flipping him onto his back.
"That's pathetic," she sighed. "Where's all that confidence now?"
Utibe groaned, staring at the ceiling. "I think I left it in my other pants."
She smirked. "Get up. Again."
Tega arrived at that exact moment, leaning against the fence with a smirk. "Damn, Utibe, your mom's wiping the floor with you."
"She always does," Utibe muttered, rolling onto his stomach before pushing himself up. "You could at least pretend to be on my side."
"Nah, this is too entertaining," Tega laughed.
Mrs. Johnson gave Tega a once-over, then looked at her son. "You're done for today. Go cool off before you embarrass yourself further."
Utibe shot up. "I was just about to make my comeback!"
She deadpanned. "Get."
He sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Fine. Let's go, Tega."
The two of them headed out, stopping first at a small convenience store for drinks. As they sat on a bench outside, Utibe turned to Tega.
"You been acting different lately."
Tega froze mid-sip. "Huh?"
"Don't 'huh' me. You're being all… I don't know, secretive."
Tega forced a laugh. "You're imagining things."
Utibe eyed him suspiciously but let it go for now. Instead, they spent the rest of the day hanging out, playing games at the arcade, and messing around like they always did. But there was an underlying tension, a shift in the air that Utibe couldn't quite place.
Utibe had barely wiped the sweat from his face when Tega's phone buzzed. The cheerful atmosphere between them shifted immediately. Tega's brow furrowed as he looked at the screen, his jaw tightening. He hesitated for a second before answering.
"What is it?" Tega's voice had lost its usual relaxed tone.
A muffled voice on the other end spoke rapidly. Whatever was being said made Tega's eyes widen slightly, and his grip on the phone tightened. He exhaled sharply. "Damn it. I'll be there soon."
Utibe, watching him closely, tilted his head. "What's up? You look like you just got drafted into a war."
Tega slid his phone into his pocket and forced a smirk, but his usual confidence was missing. "Family emergency."
Utibe narrowed his eyes. "That vague-ass response tells me nothing. Spill it."
Tega hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "It's my twin. Something happened."
That got Utibe's attention. He knew Tega had a twin, but he rarely talked about them. "What do you mean 'something happened'?"
Tega shook his head. "I don't know all the details yet. I just know I have to go." He took a step back, already preparing to leave.
Utibe crossed his arms. "And you're planning to deal with this alone?"
Tega glanced at him but didn't respond immediately. Finally, he gave a half-smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I can handle it."
Utibe wasn't convinced. "I'm coming with you."
Tega scoffed. "No, you're not."
"Try and stop me."
Tega groaned. "This isn't some casual adventure, Utibe. You don't even know what's going on."
"And whose fault is that?" Utibe shot back. "You're being secretive as hell. If it's that serious, you shouldn't be going alone."
Tega rubbed his temples, clearly frustrated. "Look, I appreciate the concern, but—"
"Save it." Utibe clapped a hand on Tega's shoulder. "Either we go together, or you waste more time arguing with me. Your choice."
Tega let out a heavy sigh, clearly debating his options. Finally, he grumbled, "Fine. Just don't slow me down."
Utibe grinned. "Lead the way."
Without wasting another second, Tega turned on his heel and started walking with urgency, Utibe following right behind him. Whatever was waiting for them at the end of this trip, Utibe had a feeling things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.