Marc's Pov
Sir Kane is right.
Rushing headfirst into chaos won't change anything. I need to steady my thoughts… focus. The Oculis Sage. The power hidden in my blood. These are the pieces that matter now.
But even so—
Something gnaws at me.
Something raw.
Justice.
"Yes… You're right, Sir," I said quietly, lifting my head. "I shouldn't throw my life away like that. But I can't just sit here either. I have to do something. I have to report this. Someone needs to know. I'll go to the authorities—tell them what happened. They have to help. I need to seek justice for my mother."
Sir Kane didn't respond immediately.
Then, his voice—dry and sharp, like the snap of a brittle branch—cut through the stillness.
"And what exactly do you think they'll do?"
I blinked. "The police—"
He cut me off with a single raise of his brow.
"You believe they'll act? Based on what? A trail of blood only you can see? An invisible enemy that warps perception itself? Be serious, boy."
I opened my mouth to reply—but nothing came out.
He stepped forward, his presence weighing heavier with every word.
"Even if they believed you… what power do you think they hold? These men in uniforms, bound by laws they barely understand—what would they do against an Oculis Sage?" His voice lowered, nearly a whisper. "A being who can bend vision itself… even that of other Sages?"
The silence returned, suffocating this time.
Yeah… I should've known.
How foolish of me to believe the police—mere mortals bound by procedure—could do anything against a force like that.
A Sage.
An Oculis.
I clenched my fists.
What about the cult-nations? Could they help?
No… why would they? Why would anyone go against something so ancient, so dangerous, just for me?
Lost in thought, my gaze drifted back to Sir Kane.
Silent. Still. Watching.
Like he'd already walked this path… and knew exactly where it led.
"Sir Kane…" I hesitated, my voice barely above a breath. "Please—"
Before I could finish, he spoke—his tone cutting clean through the quiet.
"A man should not rely on others for things like justice… or protection."
His eyes sharpened.
"If you want to survive what's coming—if you truly want to seek justice for your mother—you must first learn to rely on yourself. That only becomes possible… when you are strong enough to stand without trembling."
His words sank into me like cold iron.
Yeah…
Strength. Not borrowed. Not given. But earned.
Sir Kane's eyes held mine a moment longer… then, without a word, he reached into the folds of his coat.
"Take this."
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed something toward me.
I caught it instinctively.
A badge—cold and metallic against my skin.
Silver in color, but not the kind that gleamed with pride.
It pulsed faintly… softly.
Its shape, unlike any emblem I'd seen before—not a shield or crest, but a rose. A glowing one. Its petals were etched with fine runes that shimmered ever so slightly.
It didn't radiate power.
It radiated peace—a strange, serene calmness that spread into the space around me like ripples in still water.
I turned it over in my palm. It was no larger than a toad's back, just enough to disappear inside my closed fist.
A glow-rose badge…
Delicate, yet full of intent.
I looked up, questions already forming in my throat, but Sir Kane was one step ahead—as always.
"Just follow the scent."
His voice lingered in the air—not loud, not commanding, but echoing deep inside my skull like a final whisper left in an empty hall.
I stared down at the badge once more.
The faint shimmer of its rose-like design… still warm in my palm.
I blinked.
Looked up.
Sir Kane was gone.
No footsteps. No fading silhouette. No dramatic burst of wind.
Just… nothing.
As if he had never been there at all.
The hallway was still.
Silent.
Even the blood—the thick, shimmering trail that stained every tile and corner—had vanished.
No red. No scent. No trace.
I stood there alone, badge clutched in my hand, heart thudding in the hollow silence—trying to decide whether what just happened was real…
But… here's the proof.
This badge—solid in my palm, cold yet pulsing with something faint, something alive.
I didn't imagine this.
And then his words echoed back, clear as if he had just spoken:
"Just follow the scent."
What does that even mean?
I closed my eyes, focusing, letting instinct guide me rather than logic.
And then… I smelled it.
Not with my nose—not entirely—but deeper. Like a memory, or a sixth sense buried inside the fifth.
A trail.
A subtle, ethereal fragrance that tugged gently at my awareness. Not sweet. Not sharp. Just… directional.
Like the wind whispering which way to go.
"What is this?" I muttered under my breath, breath shaky, half in awe and half in panic.
It's as if the scent was painting a path in front of me—invisible to the eyes, but unmistakable to something else within me.
I don't know how this is happening.
I don't even know what's happening.
And worse…
I have no idea how much time I have.
What if another Sage is already on my trail?
What if they're watching me right now, waiting for me to move?
What if Sir Kane's departure wasn't a clean escape… but a distraction?
The thought slithered into my spine like ice.
No… I can't stand still.
Not now.
If this scent is a path—if it's the thread that leads me forward—then I have to follow it.
Because the moment I stop…
…might be the moment they catch up.
---------------------------------------------------
Sir Kane's Pov
As I vanished from Marc's sight, the air around me folded inward—like pages turning themselves inside a book no mortal could read.
And then, silence.
I had stepped into the Domain of Oblivion.
No scent.
No sound.
No light.
No taste.
No sensation.
Not even void—because even void has presence.
This was beyond absence. This was... non-being.
Here, reality lost its meaning. Here, the five perceptions bent in reverence to something older, something unspoken. Only those who had crossed the threshold of Serial 6 could withstand the unravelling of senses. This was where truth hid—not from fear, but because mortals had no right to witness it.
Shapes tried to form, then broke apart. Language struggled to breathe here. Color bled into meaninglessness. It was a realm untouched by time and unbound by matter.
Oblivion was not created. It simply is.
And he was already here.
His presence wasn't seen, or heard—it was known. The way inevitability is known.
"Aldid," I said, my voice materializing only because we allowed it to.
The Oculis Sage emerged from the nothingness like a memory trying to be remembered—slow, deliberate, and cold.
He wore no colors. His form shimmered between clarity and distortion, the fabric of his robes flickering like ink on still water. His eyes… were pure white. No pupils. No iris. Just vision, in its most ruthless form.
"Your bad habit still lingers, Kane—meddling in affairs that aren't yours," Aldid said, his voice curling through the air like mockery made manifest.
"You speak of meddling?" I shot back, my eyes narrowing. "You invade my territory, spill the blood of my people, and then pretend to be the victim? How delusional can you be?"
"Hahaha!"
His laughter tore through the Domain of Oblivion, echoing like a hunger that devoured every perception—sound, light, even thought itself seemed to shudder beneath it.
"You know what that boy holds, Kane," Aldid's voice cut through the stillness like a blade. "Do you truly believe the other nations will cooperate with you?"
"We have the Pact," I answered, steady but not unmoved.
Aldid tilted his head, the shadows of Oblivion writhing faintly around him. "And do you really think the Pact means anything when True Essence is involved?"
He stepped closer, voice now laced with quiet menace.
"Greed like that burns through treaties. No one will care about sacrifice—not if it means touching the source. They'll tear each other apart for a piece of him."
My voice echoed back, firm and sharp.
"Everyone knows you can't extract True Essence from someone. It's bound to the soul, not the flesh."
A pause. Then Aldid smiled—slow, amused, cold.
"Yes," he said. "And yet, here you are… circling the boy like a starving vulture."
He leaned slightly forward, the veil of Oblivion stirring with his movement.
"Tell me, Kane… if you believe it can't be taken, what exactly are you hoping to gain?"
"I Have My Reasons"
As I uttered those words, I began to withdraw from the void of Oblivion, my will cutting through the dimension like a thread unraveling. Each step I took toward the exit felt heavier, as though the very fabric of the realm resented my departure.
"Quite amusing," Aldid's voice echoed behind me, a soft, mocking whisper that seemed to slip through the cracks of my thoughts. "You always think you know what you're doing, Kane. But in the end, we're all puppets on the same string."
I didn't turn around. There was nothing left to say.