After one year, nine months, and three days.
Wilson had been training them tirelessly, teaching them combat skills every morning throughout this period. Their training wasn't limited to self-defense techniques alone; he also imparted lessons on discipline and focus, emphasizing the importance of mental strength just as much as physical strength.
He taught them how to read situations and respond intelligently to the challenges they faced, fostering teamwork and cooperation among them. Additionally, he focused on developing their academic skills, encouraging them to study the sciences and arts, and to broaden their knowledge.
Wilson also introduced them to the value of practical experience, and he didn't neglect to teach them planning strategies and critical thinking, preparing them to be leaders in the future, not just fighters.
However, the shock of the incident still echoed in Nott's memory, leaving a deep scar within him, which turned him into a cold, emotionless person. He didn't speak much; instead, he dedicated all his energy to his training, focusing on honing his skills while consumed by the obsession for revenge. His thoughts were centered on one goal: achieving the lost justice, adding more weight to his silence.
Vitalapis Academy - Inside Nott's Room
Nott sat at his desk in his luxurious room, the dim lights illuminating the scattered pages before him. Each page held detailed information about investors, businessmen, security guards, but the person most often mentioned among them was 'Gerard.' His name and photo appeared on nearly every page, along with precise details about him and his personal driver, 'Daniel.'
Three months had passed since Nott started observing this person who was always near the leader of the gang that had killed his mother, Emma. Nott left nothing to chance; every detail of this plan had been scrutinized, every point studied carefully.
He continued to gather information, every detail intertwining in his mind like pieces of a puzzle. He wrote down notes, his eyes burning with unmatched determination. He knew that one mistake could cost him everything. He reread the points again, adding new details.
Nott: "Gerard is the key. If I can get information from him, I'll be able to reach the rest of the gang. I can't rely on Wilson anymore. I'm tired of his procrastination and indifference. I have to move."
In the evening, Nott prepared to execute his plan. He wore a long coat, a light hat, and a white mask, concealing his facial features, making him look like an ordinary customer. As he entered the hotel, the noise of the games and the sound of laughter greeted him, but his focus was on his objective.
He walked through the luxurious hotel lobby, where crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their lights twinkling gently, yet his eyes were searching for hidden details.
As he moved between the crowded tables, he noticed the surveillance cameras that monitored every corner.
Nott: "One here, another there..."
As Nott continued to move through the hotel, he began to mentally map out the placement of the cameras and security resources. Meanwhile, he watched everything carefully, trying to gather useful information for himself.
Nott: "At the main entrance, there are six cameras: one aimed at the front door, two in the waiting area, one by the exterior door, and two positioned on the right and left outside the building. This means recording any entry or exit will be difficult.
In the hallways, each corridor had a single camera, ensuring full coverage of movement inside the hotel.
On the floors, each floor had two cameras, one near the elevators and another in the corners leading to the rooms, which complicated stealth movements.
The casino hall was a place he had to avoid, even though it was crowded with people, a group of cameras, ranging from six to seven, covered every corner, ready to capture any fights or exciting scenes inside the gaming hall.
Outside security, there were four guards at the main entrance checking the customers' identities.
Inside the hotel, there were nine guards patrolling the public areas, exchanging glances with employees and visitors.
Sensitive areas had three guards near the entrance to the meeting room, where Gerard and other investors held their meetings.
Peak hours; The hotel was usually crowded in the evening, especially between 8:00 and 10:00 PM, making it difficult to move without being detected.
Quiet times; From 11:00 PM to midnight, the hotel was quiet, with most guests in their rooms, providing the perfect opportunity to move."
During the guards' break times, I made sure to note the break times for each guard. I observed that one of the guards heads to the bathroom approximately every 30 minutes, which gives me a small window of opportunity to make my move.
Nott headed towards the bathroom, filled with anticipation, ready for the next step.
He whispered to himself as he counted them. Every camera was watching him closely, making him realize that a direct attack on Gerard would be almost impossible. He had to be smart.
Nott: "[Gerard is one of the main investors in this hotel, so he'll never be alone. He's always with women or other businessmen. It would be impossible to interrogate him amidst all this noise.]"
Nott made his way to the bathroom, the only place that seemed safer. He approached the bathroom door and could hear the sound of running water inside. Before entering, he looked around nervously. There were no cameras inside the bathroom except for one corner, where it was impossible to see what was happening in each stall for privacy.
When he entered, he realized that this was the place he had been waiting for. The bathroom was nearly empty, with dim lighting creating an air of mystery. The place was clean, but the air was filled with the scent of hand sanitizer.
Nott: "This is the right place."
Nott returned home after spending a long time analyzing every corner of the hotel.
Three days passed, and Nott was sitting in his dark room, where only the light of a candle flickered in front of him, casting mysterious shadows on the walls. In silence, tinged with deep thought, he picked up a piece of paper written in his own handwriting.
Each line on the paper meticulously documented the details he had gathered about Gerard.
The distribution of guards, the timing of the driver's entries and exits, the movement of the cameras, and the times when Gerard's driver, Daniel, went to the bathroom.
He stared at the paper intently while speaking softly to himself, his words filled with confusion and determination.
Nott: "It's time... No more waiting.
I have to be smart, I have to show him that I hold the power. If I make him feel weak, I'll be able to pressure him for the information. I must be flexible and fast. So, I need a mix of persuasion and threat."
He sighed deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and gazed at the pictures hanging on the walls. The picture of his mother stared back at him, as if reminding him of his responsibility toward himself.
Nott, aloud: "I can't fail. They've taken everything from me. And now it's time to take back what was stolen."
He closed his notebook quietly, then began preparing his tools. He put a small gun in his pocket, donned a dark jacket that blended with the night, and before leaving, glanced at the mirror. With a serious expression and a slight smile on his lips.
He then left his room, determined to execute his plan with precision and minimal chaos, ready for his first interrogation.
Nott was on the roof of a tall building in the city, hiding behind the edge, carefully watching the street below. The sun had begun to set, leaving the sky covered with dark shadows, but the light still illuminated the city with warm colors. While distant sounds echoed, his feelings were taut like a bowstring, focused on the target he was watching... Daniel, who was still in his car.
Nott teleported directly to the bathroom, repeatedly moving and closing the doors one by one from the inside, making those in the surveillance room believe the bathroom was completely empty. When he finally teleported to the middle door, Nott deliberately left one of the doors on the far left slightly ajar, as if offering a subtle invitation to Daniel.
He moved into the middle stall after completing the closure. His choice of the middle door was strategic, as the three faucets "right, middle, and left" were very close to each other.
Nott: "[If he goes to the right or left faucet, I can simply teleport to them and be right in front of him. And if he chooses the middle faucet, I won't need to move because he'll already be facing me.]"
His plan formed in his mind like a precise chess move, preparing to take the decisive step.
Daniel entered the bathroom confidently, unaware that every corner of it was part of a clever trap set specifically for him. He looked at the tightly closed doors, finding the left stall door the only one showing a sliver of space.
Daniel: "Strange... Only this door is open?"
He didn't think much about it. He made his way toward the open door and entered to finish his business. The clock on the wall moved so slowly. Each second felt like a rope tightening around his neck without him realizing it.
Nott took out a small device to cut the wood, and began cutting a section of the door on his right, then the door on his left. The faint sound of the cutting made Daniel stop for a moment.
Daniel: "[Hmm?... Oh, that's why the doors were closed. Seems like they're doing maintenance here.]"
Daniel didn't suspect anything. After a few moments, he stopped at the three faucets, which were aligned in a straight line in front of him.
Nott: "[Come on, Daniel... Three choices ahead of you, and I'm ready for each one. You won't escape.]"
Daniel stared at the mirror for a moment, fiddling with his hair. Then he stepped forward to wash his hands at the middle faucet, unaware that everything was under surveillance. As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, Nott silently watched, tracking his every movement. Nott slowly opened the stall door, deliberately making a slight sound that caught Daniel's attention.
Daniel: "Huh? Hey, did you make that sound...?"
Before he could finish, the words froze in his throat. The mirror's reflection wasn't just an image; it was a living nightmare. There, in the middle stall, Nott sat on the toilet as if he had been waiting for this moment forever, his weapon aimed steadily and calmly at Daniel's head. For a moment, it felt as if time had stopped, and the air around them grew heavier than it could bear.
Daniel, trembling: "W... Who are you?!!"
Nott, sharply: "Don't move."
Daniel's features immediately drained of color, his eyes widened as if he were seeing a ghost. He tried to take a step back, but his feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. Sweat began pouring from his forehead, and his breath constricted as if the air itself was conspiring against him.
Nott, in a steady tone: "Let me clarify something before any stupid thoughts cross your mind."
Nott raised his weapon slightly, as if the simple motion carried the weight of a deadly threat, then tilted his head slightly, continuing his speech confidently.
Nott: "If you try to run, this moment will be the last thing you remember. I have a friend outside, a security guard... He won't hesitate to end your life with a bullet straight to your forehead if you leave here before I do. Got it?"
It seemed as though the words pressed on Daniel's chest, making it impossible for him to think. His eyes never left Nott's reflection in the mirror, while the sound of the weapon was like the pounding of his own rapidly beating heart.
Daniel, trembling and fearful: "But... What do you want from me?"
Nott, coldly: "Turn around slowly. Don't show fear. And start stepping back toward me, step by step. No sudden movements."
Daniel stood frozen for a moment, as if his mind were trying to comprehend the disaster he had fallen into. His body visibly trembled, his limbs barely obeying him. The tension paralyzed his movements, but he forced himself to comply.
Every step he took toward Nott was heavy, as if the ground refused to carry him. The sound of his footsteps was louder than usual in the stillness of the room. When he was in front of Nott, their eyes met for a moment, and Daniel felt as though he were under a microscope, having his every fear and thought read.
Nott, with a calm nod toward the adjacent toilet: "Open the right stall... and go in."
Daniel, stammering: "O... okay."
His hands trembled as he gripped the door handle, slowly opening it and stepping in with heavy steps as though walking toward his inevitable fate. He sat on the toilet, but couldn't stop himself from looking around for an escape. Suddenly, he noticed the small gap in the stall door, a gap that had been cut with precision. Through it, Nott kept his weapon aimed at him with unrelenting steadiness.
Nott, in a steady voice tinged with irony: "Welcome to your new cage. Now, listen carefully... I'm going to tell you what you need to do. No arguments, no noise, no playing the hero. If you cooperate, you'll live to see another day. Do you understand?"
Daniel turned cautiously toward Nott, his eyes fixed on the weapon that seemed to weigh a ton. He realized that every word he spoke might be his last.
Daniel, whispering hesitantly: "Yes... I understand."
Nott, with a cold smile: "Good. Now, let's begin. And I hope you prove that you know the value of your life."
The moment was electric with tension. Every heartbeat for Daniel was deafening in his ears, and every movement from Nott tightened his grip on his fate.
Nott: "The agent of Gerard's wife, Giovanni, the man who is always around her."
Gerard, hesitantly: "W-What about him!?"
Nott: "Tell him that Mrs. Melissa's driver called you and informed you that she is at Giovanni's house... and no one else is with them."
With a trembling hand, Daniel pulls out his mobile phone and searches for Gerard's number. He presses the call button, his voice shaky from the tension.
Gerard: "What now!? I told you I still have two hours."
Nott sees Daniel's confusion on his face, so he brings the gun closer to him, causing Daniel to stammer again.
Nott, calmly: "Remember, your life depends on this call."
Daniel takes a deep breath before continuing.
Daniel, with an even more nervous voice: Mr. Gerard... "The driver of Mrs. Melissa called, and he said he saw Giovanni enter his house with her, and they are alone now."
Shock is clear in Gerard's tone as he suddenly stops, his face turning pale.
Gerard, agitated: "What!? What do you mean!?"
Nott, whispering: "I'm worried about her, he said she's out of her mind... after drinking.
Gerard: "What!! That damned bastard!!... I'll kill him if he touches a single hair on her!"
Daniel: "We need to go now, sir!"
Gerard quickly ends the call, shouting at Daniel.
Gerard: "Get the car ready now! I'm coming!"
He stands up from the gambling table and rushes out. Meanwhile, Nott looks at Daniel with a cold stare.
Nott: "Good job. Give me the keys."
With a trembling hand, Daniel gives Nott the keys.
Nott: "You will stay here for half an hour. And if he calls you, tell him you're waiting for him in the car at the main entrance."
Nott quickly glances at the metal tissue holder mounted next to the toilet. It was sturdy enough to hold the handcuffs without moving. With a faint smile, he pulls out the handcuffs from his pocket and cuffs Daniel's wrists to the holder, ignoring his muffled screams.
Daniel, surprised: "Huh!! W... w... but why!?"
Nott: "Also... I'll leave a small gift."
Nott takes out a black object that looks like a microphone from his pocket and places it on top of Daniel's toilet.
Nott: "This is a listening device. My partner is hearing everything you say now. If you scream or disobey my orders, he'll break in quickly and shoot you in the head."
Nott quickly disappears, leaving Daniel in a state of shock and confusion.
Daniel: "Damn!! I didn't expect this!!"
As Gerard rushes through the hotel corridors, he calls Daniel again.
Gerard, urgently: "Is the car ready!?"
Daniel, obedient to Nott's instructions: "...[Damn...] Yes, sir... I'm waiting for you at the main entrance."
Gerard hangs up the phone and rushes outside the hotel. When he reaches the main entrance, he sees the car waiting for him and heads towards it with quick steps. He sits in the back seat and closes the door.
Gerard: "Let's go!"
But after a moment of silence, he notices that the driver's seat is empty.
Gerard, angrily: "Huh? Where is that..."
Before Gerard can finish his question, he feels the muzzle of a gun pressing against the back of his head. Nott was lying on the rear window of the car.
In a moment of panic and intense confusion, Gerard quickly extended his hand toward the door handle, but...
Nott: "Do you think opening the door will be faster than my bullet...
Gerard feels fear and dread creeping into his heart. He tries to think of a way out, but he realizes that there is no escape. It feels like his heartbeat is accelerating in his chest. Sweat is pouring from his forehead, and his hands are trembling involuntarily as the gun's muzzle presses against the side of his head. Nott, in a calm voice but with a hidden threat, breaks the silence that fills the car.
Nott: "I know you're a brilliant thinker, Gerard. So let me clarify a simple rule... the next step is your life, either you cooperate, or this will be the last time you sit in a comfortable seat."
Gerard swallows hard, his eyes slowly moving to the front window, trying to think of a way to escape this nightmare. But the more he tries to focus, the more the gun presses against his head, as if Nott is reading his thoughts.
Gerard, voice trembling, panting between words: "What... What do you want? Money? Power?! I can give you anything... everything! Just tell me!!"
Nott, with a cold and deadly tone, and a smile that can only be heard in his voice, presses the muzzle of the gun slowly against Gerard's skull, making him feel the weight of death drawing closer with every second.
Nott, in a low voice: "What I want isn't your money, nor your power... It's simpler than that."
He stops for a moment, letting the silence consume Gerard's nerves, before adding sharply, making his words feel like knives piercing the air.
Nott: "... Answers."
He moves closer, lowering his voice until it becomes a terrifying whisper next to Gerard's ear.
Nott: "And you will tell me... everything. Now, let's start with the first question, the one that matters more to me than your life."
Nott raises the gun slightly, causing Gerard to freeze in place, his eyes filled with terror.
Nott, with a sentence dripping with vengeance: "... Who killed her?"
Gerard feels as though a lightning bolt has struck his soul, his lips start to tremble, and his words come out in a stutter, filled with panic.
Gerard, stammering: "I... I don't... I don't understand what... what you're talking about..."
Nott doesn't give him a second to breathe. With a firm grip, he pulls a strand of Gerard's hair and jerks his head back forcefully, making their eyes meet directly with the gun's muzzle, which he slowly puts into Gerard's mouth.
Nott, in a firm, frightening voice: "Don't pretend ignorance, Gerard. You know exactly who I'm talking about... And I won't ask again."
Gerard stares at Nott, fear reflected in his gaze, realizing that Nott won't back down.
Nott: "You were there, at the 'Arcio' bank incident."
Gerard feels a burning dryness in his throat, as if the surroundings have grown unbearably tight. Things have become more dangerous than he expected; this isn't just a robbery or a passing threat, it's something much darker, deeper. Nott knows more than he should, and he's getting closer by the minute.
Gerard, trying to breathe deeply: "No... I don't know anything. I swear!"
Nott, in a calm, deadly tone, moves closer: "Give me one reason not to pull the trigger here, now. Remember, you're alive only because I need you."
He breathes slowly, getting closer.
Nott: "If you lie again, you won't get the chance to regret it."
Gerard, who is starting to feel suffocated, realizes that he may not leave this night alive unless he speaks.
Gerard, confused: "... If... if you mean the gang! I've already left them! Please, I have no ties to them now!!"
Nott, smirking slyly: "All you have to do is answer what I ask. You don't have to do or say anything else. Do you understand?"
Gerard, voice shaky: "Ah... okay..."
Nott: "Tell me the names of those who were involved in that incident, specifically, the person who killed her..."
Gerard: "We don't know. We don't tell each other our real names, we use aliases."
Nott, sharply: "Are you telling me that all this time you couldn't even learn a single name?"
Gerard, looking disturbed: "When the police caught them, I didn't look for their names. Because I had already left and didn't care about them anymore. I swear, even when I was with them, I didn't know their names. None of them trusted me, that's because I was a new member. I got the position of assistant to the leader because I'm close to him, so they're just jealous."
Nott let out a deep sigh, his eyes narrowing as a wave of frustration washed over him.
Nott: "Before that incident, how did you all plan it?"
Gerard: "We never planned it."
Nott blinked in confusion, tilted his head slightly, and muttered softly: "What?..."
Gerard: "I mean, the boss came to us with the complete plan after he discussed it with a strange person, and told us to carry it out in two weeks, when he gave the signal."
Nott presses the safety button on the gun, making the trigger unsafe.
Nott: "Who is that person!!"
Gerard, stammering: "I... I really don't know!! I swear. He entered the room wearing a cloak that hid his face, and they started discussing something.
Nott: "Didn't you know what they were discussing?"
Gerard: "No, they kicked me out, it was a secret meeting. They do that most of the time in all our meetings with the other gangs."
Nott: "Damn your weak character. Who was the other member who was in the room when you left?""
Gerard: "No one was there except the boss."
Nott: "Good, you said you're close to him, so you must know where he lives.
Here's a more detailed and improved version of Gerard's distressed and tense moment:
Where is his place... and if you're lying, you know what will happen to you..."
Gerard's breath quickened, his pulse racing as the words hung in the air. His hand trembled, barely able to steady itself on the edge of the chair. His mind scrambled, thoughts colliding, panic building within him. His throat felt tight, each breath a struggle. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his chest.
Gerard: "Ah... a..."
Gerard stammered, his voice faltering, betraying his nerves.
In that split second, everything blurred in his mind... Michael's face, the consequences of failure, and the weight of the decision that loomed over him. He clenched his fist, a pit forming in his stomach, and in the silence that followed, his voice barely rose above a whisper.
Gerard: "Dammit... I'm sorry, Michael. My life... comes first."
This version highlights Gerard's anxiety and internal conflict, showing how deeply he's affected by the situation.
Gerard: "River Luminous neighborhood, his apartment is number 27A, located on the riverbank, his name is Michael...."
Gerard slowly turned behind him, expecting the worst, but saw no one. He took a deep breath, as if trying to rid himself of the tension that had clung to him. Nothing but silence. Yet, his heart still pounded fiercely, and the uneasy feeling wouldn't leave him.
River Luminous – Inside the apartment.
On the other side, after an hour had passed, Nott was sitting motionless on an old couch in the second target's apartment. The apartment looked abandoned, as if life had left it long ago. The walls were peeling, dust covered the surfaces thickly, as though it hadn't been touched in years. The furniture was dilapidated, papers were scattered around, and empty glasses were on the table. The heavy curtains tightly blocked the windows, leaving the place submerged in darkness, with the entire room lit only by a solitary lamp hanging from the ceiling, swaying gently.
The constant ticking of the clock on the wall was nerve-wracking. On the worn-out couch, Nott sat in a deadly silence. His hands were steady, firmly gripping the weapon that was pointed precisely at the closed door. His eyes were scanning the dancing shadows, revealing every corner of the room. The subtle movements of his breath were the only indication of life in this abandoned place.
Suddenly, amidst the eerie silence, the door creaked open slowly. The slow, prolonged sound of the door's hinge was enough to make anyone's heart race. Michael, the gang leader, entered cautiously, the atmosphere so thick that the air seemed to resist his breath. He slowly pressed a button on the wall, and the hanging lights on the ceiling flickered to life with a dim glow. But what he saw in front of him was enough to awaken his worst nightmares, as if those dim lights had revealed a terrifying truth he wasn't prepared to face.
There, sitting on the couch, was Nott, his weapon aimed directly at Michael. Nott's face was stern, and Michael's heartbeat raced in a terrifying way, feeling the blood freeze in his veins. Time seemed to have frozen in place.
Nott, with a deep and terrifying voice, whispered without lifting his gaze from Michael: "Stay silent and don't move... You know exactly why I'm here, don't you, Michael..."
The echo of his voice alone was enough to make the walls themselves tremble.
Michael tried to control the situation with a forced smile, then spoke in a shaky voice, attempting to hide his fear.
Michael: "Heh, who are you, boy? And what are you doing with that game in your hands?"
Nott didn't give him a chance to reply with words. Instead, he fired a shot through the silencer directly toward the vase next to the door, making it clear that he wasn't here to play. Michael suddenly stopped, stunned by the fact that Nott wasn't joking, the weapon was real, and the situation was real.
In an instinctive reaction, Michael ran to the right. But he hadn't realized the incredible speed at which Nott moved. Suddenly, Nott teleported in an instant, appearing in front of Michael, delivering a powerful kick to his face, sending him crashing through the door to his right, then falling hard to the ground.
As Michael fell, screams and cries began to come from the corner of the room. Michael's consciousness opened to a bitter reality as he turned to find his wife and young daughter bound with ropes. His wife trembled in fear, her eyes filled with tears and panic.
At this moment, Michael's feelings mixed between regret and fear. He realized he wasn't alone in this struggle, and that his family was now trapped with him in this nightmare. His heart weighed heavy, and the sense of helplessness and guilt increased.
Slowly, Nott approached Michael, silent, not uttering a word. He bent down in front of him, his weapon aimed at him, and no sound escaped from Michael's mouth, words faded from his mind. He tried to cling to any shred of logic or understanding, but he couldn't.
Thoughts ignited in Michael's mind, as if every decision he had made in his life had led to this moment, the moment that was inevitable. In the blink of an eye, everything was clear, but the fog clouded his vision, as he wondered how he had ended up here, on the brink of madness. Every step in his past, every betrayal, every lie, had led him to face this ghost sitting before him now, Nott.
Nott stared at him coldly, his features grim. His voice came like a slap to the face of the silence that surrounded the place.
Nott: "A year and nine months ago. Specifically, two weeks before that cursed night In the Arcio Bank incident... You held a secret meeting with a certain person.
Who is it? And what did you agree upon?"
Michael tried to hold himself together, but he could feel his body shaking under the pressure. He stammered, trying to defend himself.
Michael: "A... secret meeting?! I... really don't know what you're talking about!"
But Nott wasn't here to listen to excuses. In a decisive moment, he slowly raised his weapon and aimed it directly at Michael's wife, bound next to their daughter, who was looking at her father with eyes full of terror.
The silence suddenly turned into terrifying whispers, and time seemed to stop for a moment. Nott spoke in a voice full of sorrow, as if every word came from the depths of old wounds.
Nott: "I'm the son of that woman... Michae."
As Nott's words echoed in his ear, Michael felt as though time had stopped for a moment. His heart trembled unnaturally, as if the shock had embedded itself deep within his chest. He wasn't prepared for this, and he couldn't believe what he had just heard. A faint, emotionless smile spread across Nott's lips, as the final words exploded into the air.
Nott: "So... I wonder... if I kill her now...
Will that little girl feel what I felt?"
It was as if a bullet had pierced his heart. Whispers raced through his mind, but he couldn't catch them. He only felt the ground beneath him shake, and the air in the room had grown unbearably heavy. He looked at Nott, but everything was blurry, a haze of disbelief and shock that overwhelmed him in moments where everything had once been clear, yet now he was trapped in a bottle of confusion.
Michael collapsed completely, tears flowing uncontrollably, crying and begging.
Michael: "Please! Please, don't do this!! I beg you! I wasn't the one who killed her, don't hurt my family! Please!! It was 'Thariss' who killed her! I warned everyone not to kill anyone, I swear! He's in 'Ravenwood' prison now... I tried to escape, and I survived with someone else from my followers, but I never could forget what happened!
Michael gasped for breath, stammering again, but he continued.
Michael: "I left everything behind... I got rid of all my belongings, I left the criminal life completely... I'm just a man now trying to be a good father to his family.
Please... forgive me..."
Tears drowned Michael's face as he kneeled on the ground, helpless and resigned. He begged Nott, but Nott remained in place, watching, hesitating.
Before him stood the man who had caused his mother's death, but now he saw a broken human, a miserable family, and an innocent child.
His hands trembled, the weapon shaking as he struggled to control his emotions. He felt conflicting emotions, an inner struggle tearing him apart between the revenge he had been chasing all this time and the mercy he didn't know he was still capable of feeling.
In a moment charged with tension, time froze around Nott, as if everything in his surroundings began to fade into a haunting stillness. The minutes slipped by slowly, while his heart beat heavily, pounding in his chest like war drums. He hesitated in place, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions raging inside him, clashing like violent waves in a stormy sea. Thoughts spun in his head, as if they were whirlpools of doubt and regret, pulling everything stable into their dark depths.
Yet, in a sudden moment, he made his decision. He stood up from where he was, and walked toward the exit, his steps heavy, as though he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Leaving behind the noise of emotions and overwhelming feelings.
He heard Michael's voice as he ran toward his family, broken and with a shattered heart. His screams reflected a state of panic and fear, as if he were trying to save the last bit of hope left to him.
"I'm sorry! I love you! Don't be afraid!"
His words echoed through the space, interspersed with whispers of regret and sorrow. He embraced his wife and daughter tightly, as if trying to protect them from the chaos he had been a part of. The family gathered what was left of themselves, their eyes filled with tears, fear manifesting in every detail of their faces.
Michael, who had once been a leader in the criminal world, now found himself just a lost man, trying to hold on to something that resembled life. He looked at his wife, who seemed pale and frightened, and at his daughter's embrace, who held him tightly as if she feared losing him. His family was the only hope he had left, but he knew deep down that the past was chasing him like an unending nightmare.
Meanwhile, Nott stood in the middle of the apartment, contemplating what had happened, unable to escape the feeling of guilt that consumed him. He watched them from a distance, remembering his mother, how she had embraced him in his childhood, how much she had cared for him. The thought that Michael, despite all his actions, had a family that loved him and feared for him, glittered in his mind like a sword poised at his throat. Nott wondered, as the weight of the decisions he had made in his life settled upon him.
The moment was like a mirror reflecting what he could have become, how his life could have been different. But at the same time, he asked himself.
Nott's mind churned, a storm of conflicting thoughts tearing through him.
Nott: "Can his dark past be erased with a mere act of repentance?..."
The question lingered like a poison in the air, twisting itself into every corner of his consciousness. He could hear the echo of his mother's voice in his mind, a distant, fragile whisper that called to him from the depths of a life he could never reclaim. Could the sins of his past truly be washed away? Or was repentance just a hollow attempt to mask the scars that time had carved into his soul?
His heart pounded heavily, each beat a cruel reminder of the life he'd lost, of the innocence stolen from him by a killer's hands. The name of the murderer echoed in his thoughts, an unrelenting shadow that clung to him no matter how far he ran. It was a name he could never forget, a name that reminded him that there was no escape from the darkness that lived inside him. The memory of his mother, her life snatched away before it had even fully bloomed, was a wound that refused to heal.
He walked through the streets, the world around him muted by the oppressive silence of the night. It was as if the darkness itself conspired to swallow him whole, suffocating him with its weight. The air grew thick, thick with the suffocating sense that he was standing on the edge of something far deeper, far darker than the physical world around him. Every step he took felt like a descent into a void where nothing had meaning, and where all actions... good or bad... seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of existence.
Could he truly find redemption, or was he forever bound to his past, cursed to live in its shadow? The deeper he thought, the more elusive the answer became. Repentance. What was it, really? A simple act of confession? Or was it the painful, lifelong battle of confronting the consequences of one's actions and understanding that no matter how hard he tried, the past could never be undone? Could one truly absolve oneself of the weight of sins carried across a lifetime, or was it simply a delusion, a fleeting moment of self-deception?
His gaze wandered upward, as though seeking answers from the cold, indifferent stars above. The world around him was frozen in time, and in that stillness, he realized: perhaps some things were never meant to be erased.
Nott walked through the dark streets, as if each step was taking him farther away from the past that was trapping him from all sides. His plan was perfect. He had crafted every detail with care, planned every move precisely; there was no room for error. That moment he had waited for was approaching, but something strange crept into his heart, an unexpected feeling... a feeling of fracture.
Nott: "My plan was perfect... until I met a Child who resembled me."
He stopped in his tracks, his heart trembling violently. He couldn't escape the thought that suddenly consumed him. A little girl who resembled me? Those words were a shock he hadn't prepared for. He wanted to tell himself firmly that there was no place for regret in his world, no room for weakness. But he couldn't shake the feeling that overwhelmed him when he saw that little girl. Her eyes resembled his, and her smile carried the same innocence he had lost long ago. Her features reminded him of who he was before his heart was tainted by the events that changed the course of his life forever.
Was she a reflection of the innocence he had killed long ago? Or was she simply a reminder of what he once yearned for deep inside, before revenge consumed him? The girl was like a ghost, following him with every step, standing as an obstacle between him and his plan, which knew only darkness. A strange feeling took over him, a sense of imbalance that he thought he had long mastered.
Was he planning to take revenge on her too, just like everything else in his life? Or was this little girl opening another window for him, a window into a world he had never seen before, a world where innocence could exist again? He didn't know the answer, but what he felt was stronger than any plan or thirst for vengeance. That little girl was like a gap he discovered within himself, reminding him of everything he had lost.
Nott stood motionless under the dim light of the streetlamp, his thoughts spiraling like a storm of chaos. His mind was no longer his own, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that pierced through the darkness of his soul.
Nott: "The killers also sleep on warm pillows."
In a time and place where souls meet pain, Nott pondered a strange paradox. How could criminals, those responsible for the worst deeds, live a normal life? They go to work, smile at their children, have dinner with their families. Is this the same world that one of them destroyed? How could these killers close their doors at night, while their victims have nothing but emptiness and blood in their eyes? Isn't this the harshest form of inequality... to destroy someone's life and then revel in the same life? This paradox hurt him more than any physical wound, as if injustice had transformed into a natural order that acknowledged no death, but created a new life for those who commit it.
The words echoed in his mind, a bitter reminder that even those who commit the most horrendous acts seek solace in the mundane comforts of life. No one was immune to vulnerability, not even those who took everything from others. His hands tightened into fists, but the pain in his chest grew heavier. He had once believed that vengeance would be his salvation, that revenge was the key to erasing the past. But now... now, there were no answers, only questions, gnawing away at the remnants of his resolve.
Nott: "When I screamed his name… he hid in the arms of his family."
The image of his mother, bloodied and broken, flooded his mind. He had screamed for justice, screamed for the man who had stolen her life. But when that man was confronted, he was no different from anyone else... hiding behind the shield of loved ones, protected by the very thing that made Nott's rage so unbearable: the bond of family. The injustice of it cut deeper than any knife ever could. Was he merely chasing shadows? Was there any real justice in a world where the guilty could hide behind the people they cared for, while the innocent bled alone?
Nott: "What do you do when your killer cries?"
The question lingered like a shadow over his heart. He remembered the moment when the man who had destroyed everything wept, not out of remorse, but out of fear, out of the desperate realization that he was no longer in control. What was he supposed to feel in that moment? Was he supposed to feel satisfaction knowing that the murderer was broken? Or did his tears expose something more, something unsettling? Was his rage, his need for vengeance, a reflection of his own pain, his own emptiness? Could the killer's tears somehow make him human again, or would they only deepen the chasm between them, showing him how much alike they were?
On the way, Nott's thoughts raced, his heart pounding fast, and his mind drowning in a darkness of doubts and questions. He was shifting between memories and details he had lived through, murmuring to himself about Michael, the killers, and the past that never left his mind. Then, suddenly, he stopped in his tracks in the middle of the street, as if the shock had struck him out of nowhere.
Nott, He whispered softly, as if speaking to himself in a moment of sudden clarity,
Nott: "No... Thariss is the killer."
It was as if he had regained his consciousness all at once, as though the truth had shattered in his mind suddenly, and everything became clear. The air was heavy with the scent of rain that had washed the earth clean, but it wasn't enough to ease the weight of sorrow in his heart.
He whispered to himself in a low voice, as if every word was a knife driving deep into his mind.
Nott: "Thariss... I will kill you... Whatever happens... I will revenge.
His name echoed from his lips, each word rising from the depths of his chest, like suppressed screams from wounds that wouldn't heal. His voice grew louder, accompanied by accumulated anger, as if every whisper of pain in his life was gathering to create a storm within him.
He paused for a moment, raising his head to the star-filled sky, which sparkled like questioning eyes, as if searching for an answer to his questions.
His words flowed like an unbreakable vow, promises bound to a final battle against the injustice that had drained his life. The tangled conflict of his emotions turned into fuel that fed his resolve, igniting a spark that wouldn't extinguish, giving him the strength to continue on a dangerous path, but the only path that would lead him to the end he had long dreamed of, an end that would restore the balance that had been taken from him.
The next day...
Arcadia – Vitalapis Academy, 11:23 AM, inside the training room.
The atmosphere was tense with anticipation, as Nott prepared for one of the monthly decisive confrontations between his siblings. The walls of the room and the tables were covered with various weapons and equipment that the competitors fought with, ranging from daggers and helmets to shields, bows, and swords hung in a coordinated manner. The atmosphere reflected the spirit of challenge, each tool carrying within it memories of victories and defeats.