Chapter 15

From the shadows of the campus, the cloaked figure watched Issac and Jaren intently. To most, it would seem as though he was just another student loitering between classes, but his presence was anything but ordinary. His mission was clear: watch Issac Stross and, if necessary, intervene to protect him. However, the reasons behind the mission were far from transparent.

Weeks ago, the organization—one that operated outside the boundaries of any government agency—had assigned the figure to this task. The briefing was cryptic, as always. "Watch the Esper," they had said. "Ensure his survival. He is key to something far beyond what you or the government can understand." The details had been scant, but orders were orders, and this wasn't the kind of organization you questioned.

The figure shifted slightly in the shadows, careful to stay out of direct sight while still maintaining a clear view of Issac and Jaren. For days now, he had observed their movements, their conversations, even their mundane activities. On the surface, Issac appeared to be just another college student, but the figure knew better. Issac was special, and the organization's interest in him went deeper than the figure could comprehend.

As Issac's eyes darted toward him, a flicker of unease crossed the cloaked figure's mind. He's aware. The feeling was mutual—Issac was sharp, more so than most Espers the figure had monitored before. The brief moment of eye contact sent a shiver down the figure's spine. He quickly stepped back into the shade, ensuring his position was concealed, but the encounter left him unnerved.

The figure wasn't working alone. He had resources, contacts, and the means to disappear if necessary. Yet something about Issac's growing awareness of being watched was unsettling. It wasn't just the sharpness of his instincts; it was the way Issac seemed to be on the verge of something—something dangerous, perhaps even world-changing. The organization had hinted as much, but they had been vague, as they always were.

"Watch but do not interfere unless absolutely necessary." The figure had those words drilled into his mind. But how long could he simply observe? Issac's power was growing, and now, with the government apparently monitoring him as well, the situation was escalating. The figure knew he wasn't the only one with eyes on Issac.

As Jaren made his call to his father, the figure strained to listen, though it was difficult to catch every word. Something about "tracking" and the mention of dungeons. General Zarek... The name triggered a memory from the briefing. The organization had mentioned that Issac wasn't just being tracked for his Esper abilities. There was something unique about him, something beyond just his powers. His connection to the dungeons was key, but the figure hadn't been privy to more than that.

From the shadows, the figure's mind raced. Was the government also aware of Issac's potential? If so, what did they plan to do with him? The organization hadn't provided any details about what Issac could become, but they had been adamant that his survival was paramount. The government's interference only complicated things. Too many players on the board, too many unknowns.

When Issac and Jaren left the cafeteria, the figure followed from a distance, slipping through the campus unnoticed, blending into the sea of students. His cloak, designed to obscure his presence, worked well in crowded environments. But he had to be careful. He couldn't afford to lose Issac, not now.

As the two friends entered their dorm building, the figure stopped at a distance, observing. He could feel the tension in the air, the sense that something was brewing beneath the surface. His instincts, honed from years of working in the shadows, told him that the situation was reaching a tipping point.

For a brief moment, the figure considered contacting the organization for further instructions. But he knew what they would say: "Stay the course. Watch, protect if necessary, but do not act prematurely."

And so, he waited. The wind rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, a calm in the midst of growing chaos. He didn't know the full extent of what Issac was capable of, but if the organization's interest was any indication, it was something powerful—perhaps even dangerous.

Inside the dorm, as Jaren spoke to Issac about the government's tracking methods, the figure narrowed his eyes. Tracking through dungeons? That's new. It seemed the government was more involved than he had anticipated. If they were using dungeons to monitor Espers, Issac's every move could be compromised.

A creeping doubt began to settle in the figure's mind. Am I really just here to watch? Or am I being kept in the dark about something bigger?

He had been a part of the organization long enough to know that they didn't reveal everything to their operatives. They operated on a need-to-know basis, and right now, he didn't need to know. But the frustration was beginning to gnaw at him. Why Issac? Why is he so important?

The figure's thoughts were interrupted by movement at the dorm's entrance. Issac had stepped outside briefly, and their eyes met again. This time, Issac didn't look away so quickly. It was as if he had finally locked onto the fact that someone was there, watching him.

The figure tensed. He knows.

It was only a matter of time before Issac confronted the truth. The figure would have to decide soon whether to reveal himself or stay in the shadows. But one thing was certain: whatever Issac was caught up in, it was far bigger than anyone realized.

And the figure would be there, watching—waiting for the moment when he would need to step in and protect Issac, whether the young Esper wanted it or not.

----

Issac stepped out of his dorm, the cool air hitting his face like a splash of water, refreshing and invigorating. He leaned against the wall, staring at the ground as he tried to shake off the remnants of a restless night. But his moment of solitude was short-lived; a familiar figure in a dark cloak caught his eye. The stranger he had seen a few times before was standing a few paces away, watching him intently.

As the figure approached, a sense of foreboding washed over him. When the stranger pulled back his hood, Issac's heart stopped.

"Marcus!?" The name burst from his lips before he could stop himself. The face before him was undeniably that of his best friend from his first life—same tousled hair and warm brown eyes, though they were now tinged with confusion.

"How do you know me?" Marcus asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and caution.

Issac's stomach twisted. He had no idea how to explain this. Panic surged within him, and he glanced around, desperate for an escape. His mind raced, and he instinctively reached out to Alfred for help.

Now you remember me, Alfred commented, the smugness evident in his tone.

Not now, Alfred! How do I get out of this blunder?

Hmm, you can't? Alfred's playful tone only made Issac's anxiety deepen.

Marcus shifted his weight, his posture tense. He was clearly on high alert, as if ready to bolt at any moment. "I'll ask again. How do you know me?"

Issac felt the walls closing in, and the weight of the situation pressed down on him. "Look, I—I don't have time to explain," he stammered, desperation clawing at his voice. "I just… I noticed you've been following me."

A faint smirk flickered across Marcus's face, but his eyes remained wary. "It's way more interesting to know how you know me, especially since I've been following you for weeks—long before you awakened to your powers."

Issac's heart raced. The thought of Marcus stalking him, lurking in the shadows for weeks, sent shivers down his spine. "Why?" he managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Because you're more important than you realize, Issac," Marcus replied, his tone serious now. "And I need to understand why you're different."

Issac's brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and curiosity swirling in his mind. "Why am I important?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with underlying anxiety.

Marcus met his gaze, an inscrutable expression on his face. "That will come with time," he replied cryptically, then leaned in slightly, narrowing his eyes. "But I need to know how you know my name."

A pulse of urgency shot through Issac. "I can't tell you that here," he said, glancing around the dimly lit courtyard as if the shadows might eavesdrop. "We need to go to my room."

Marcus hesitated, his cautious posture softening for a moment. "Okay. But—"

"I'll explain everything," Issac interjected, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of the moment, the tension of secrets about to be shared. After a brief internal debate, he added, "I think I need to talk to Jaren too. Maybe he can help."

As they walked side by side, Issac couldn't shake the memories of his first life. He thought about Marcus—the friend who had been more than just a name, someone he had grown close to during countless battles. In that life, they had forged an unbreakable bond, one that had helped Issac become more relaxed, less prone to hiding from the world. Best friends and guild associates, they had faced the darkness together.

The memories felt distant yet achingly familiar, like a half-remembered dream. He wondered if he could recreate that connection again, if Marcus would come to trust him.

When they reached his room, Marcus looked weary, the tension of the unknown weighing on him. "I need to contact my higher-ups," he said, his voice low. "This is unusual. You somehow know me, even though we've never met before. They need to know."

Issac felt a knot of fear tighten in his stomach. He knew the implications of that statement. But he also understood the necessity. If this was going to work, I need to tell them everything.

"Fine," Issac said, forcing himself to sound more confident than he felt. "But first, let's talk to Jaren. He'll understand."

Marcus nodded, though uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "Alright. But you better have a good explanation for this."

-----

Issac led Marcus down the dimly lit corridor, his heart racing as they approached Jaren's door. The cool air felt heavy with tension, and each step seemed to amplify his anxiety. He reached the door and knocked firmly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.

After a moment that stretched painfully long, the door creaked open, revealing a bleary-eyed Jaren. His tousled hair hung messily around his face, and he squinted against the light from the corridor. "Do you know what time it fucking is, Issac?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Issac glanced at his watch and winced. "Damn, it's 1 AM." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him for interrupting Jaren's rest.

"Sorry, man, but this is important." He gestured to Marcus, who stood slightly behind him, hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking every bit the enigmatic figure he was. "This is Marcus. He's the one who was watching us earlier. I can't go into the details right now, but I need you to ask your dad to come or arrange for us to meet in a secure place. I have a lot more information about… everything. I need to tell you both all at once about what I haven't been saying."

Issac's voice rushed out, laced with urgency and palpable nerves. He could feel the weight of the moment bearing down on him, as if the walls themselves were closing in.

Jaren's expression shifted from groggy annoyance to sharp alertness, his eyes narrowing as he took in the seriousness of Issac's tone. "Alright," he said, his voice firm. "Give me a second."

He closed the door momentarily, and Issac and Marcus exchanged a look. The air between them crackled with anticipation and uncertainty, a silent understanding that they were on the brink of revealing something monumental.

After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, Jaren reemerged, his demeanor now serious and awake. "I called him," he said, glancing at Marcus. "Let's wait outside for the pickup."

As they stepped into the cool night air, Issac's nerves fluttered, and he tried to steady himself. Meanwhile, Marcus pulled out his phone, his brow furrowing as he dialed his higher-ups. The moment the call connected, Issac could hear the other person's voice, loud and furious, even before Marcus spoke.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing approaching your charge like that? You're supposed to be a shadow guard! You're not allowed to approach the client, you fucking idiot!" The reprimand was fierce, and Issac could feel the tension in the air thicken.

Marcus's face hardened, and he stood taller, determination etched into his features. "I'm getting information my way," he retorted, his voice steady despite the anger directed at him. "I'll report later." With that, he hung up, the silence that followed heavy with unspoken words.

"Is that how your higher-ups usually treat you?" Issac asked, trying to break the tension.

Marcus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of frustration surfacing. "You have no idea. But right now, we have more important things to deal with."