A SUICIDAL MISSION

LUCIUS 

Dinner was finished, and by all accounts, it had been good, judging from the half-hearted compliments and half-empty plates. Yet a heavy cloud of tension hung in the air, so thick it dulled even the taste of the food. Conversations were scarce, and laughter non-existent. The lively mood we'd shared at lunch had long since withered into something quieter, heavier.

Not that I could blame anyone.

Not after what Lav and I had heard.

It was a failed attempt, really — that conversation they tried to hide from us. But the moment the adults had drawn that invisible barrier between us, curiosity won over courtesy. With a small nudge of my mana, I pushed wind towards the dome, twisting it just enough to create a sliver of space — a keyhole into their guarded world. Lav and I had heard enough, even with Sara momentarily breaking our focus when she fled to us, pale and wide-eyed at the mention of ghosts.

Still, the pieces we caught were enough.

Detailed, vivid — too vivid to be called rumours.

Maybe an exaggeration. Hopefully.

But it sounded like an actual calamity brewing, and even I, reckless as I sometimes was, prayed it was nothing more than fiction.

Gods, I hope this is just a rumour, I thought bitterly. Because an enemy you can't touch — neither with blade nor spell — isn't an enemy. It's a death sentence.

Back inside, Sia and Adrianna moved quickly, cleaning up with the practised efficiency of soldiers rather than housewives. Even Adrianna, missing one arm, kept pace with Sia, plates sliding from hand to hand in a silent rhythm. Rebecca passed the dishes along without speaking. The rest of us simply sat there, scattered, pretending we didn't feel the air growing heavier by the minute.

Mercy caught my eye. A small nod. A silent call to follow.

His gaze darted around once, checking — no Sia peeking from the corner. Her mana signature buzzed by the sink, steady and distant. Good.

Edward rose first, stretching lazily. "Time for my usual round on the walls," he said, voice casual. Routine. Expected.

Mercy echoed something similar, about work I didn't quite catch, nor care to.

Just as I moved to follow, a voice shrieked from behind me.

"Huh? Lucius! Your hair— it's turning white! Look!"

I jolted, genuinely startled. Sara bounded over, tugging at my hair with a horrified fascination. Lavya appeared right after, squinting, then nodding as if confirming some grave diagnosis.

"You sure you can accompany us, old man?" Lav teased, hunching his back and walking like a feeble elder. The performance earned a few dry chuckles around the room, but I wasn't in the mood for banter. Not tonight.

"After you," I said, gesturing mock-formally.

Mercy and Edward exited first, boots thudding softly against the porch wood. Lav and Sara followed — but as Sara passed, I caught her wrist gently.

"After you, my lady," I said with an exaggerated bow, voice dripping mockery.

She laughed, playfully shoving me away, before stepping outside.

Only then did I inform Sia, loud enough for her to hear, that I was heading out for a walk.

I saw the brief flash of concern cross her face even from here.

She knew.

Knew I wasn't just going for a stroll.

Knew that Mercy and Edward, as much as they cared, would not hesitate to involve me in whatever madness was stirring, especially after tonight.

Knew she couldn't stop me without drawing attention.

So, she let me go. But the silent warning in her gaze stayed burned into my mind.

Outside, the night was alive with the whisper of winds. Luna — the silver moon — poured her light over the world, and the cold air slapped pleasantly against my face.

Lav and Sara soon parted ways, offering quick thanks for the dinner before disappearing into the night. Lavya and I exchanged a brief, loaded nod — a silent promise that neither of us would let our guard down.

I walked alone after that.

Under the watchful eye of the moon, on a road where the winds carried the scent of something distant.

Something dangerous.

And the feeling stirring in my chest wasn't fear.

Not entirely.

It was the expectation.

***

"Now then, where were we?" I asked, standing under the dim lamplight with the two knights in front of me. We were in the middle of nowhere, just the three of us beneath the humming poles and the cool night breeze.

Mercy spoke first after Edward gave him a small nod.

"He knows," Mercy said, pointing toward Edward. "About your abilities. About your nature."

Edward smiled, confirming it.

"I always knew you were special, but this?" Edward whistled low. "Damn."

I narrowed my eyes. "I thought someone like you wouldn't just believe what others might say... no matter how close they are."

Edward was trustworthy, sure—but he wasn't someone who trusted others easily. Hell, not even his own shadow.

"Well, normally, I'd have had my doubts. Would've made sure myself," Edward said, smirking. "But that little stunt of yours—blowing a hole through my domain—that's the proof I would've needed anyway. Saved me a lot of time and effort. So... thanks, I guess."

He seemed genuinely impressed. Maybe. Honestly, I didn't care much. Mercy looked surprised for a second too, before a realisation struck him, remembering what else I could really do with my abilities. That snapped him back to his usual serious self.

"Since you let me and Lav eavesdrop earlier, let's speed this up," I said, cutting to the point. None of us had time to waste—those two had their duties, and I? I needed sleep.

"Agreed," Mercy and Edward said at the same time.

Mercy stepped forward. "The mission's simple. Tomorrow, head to the Manisk sector. It's south of the buffer zone and the cliff region. From there, keep heading further south, where the Omega faction's hunters spotted that... Wraith."

Wraith.

Just hearing it again made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"Use Absolute Zero. Stay hidden. Spy on it from a safe distance—don't even think about getting close enough to touch it. And go alone," Mercy continued. His voice left no room for argument. "We can't risk anyone else compromising your stealth. Understood?"

So they were serious about this.

Serious enough to throw me in the fire the moment I was 'ready' huh? Well, can't blame them really, favouritism comes with a cost, after all. 

I exhaled slowly. "Are these Wraiths... even real? I mean, doesn't the idea of something like that break the very fundamentals of our world?"

I hated admitting it, but yeah—I was scared. I didn't want to go in alone.

Edward gave me a look and deadpanned, "Says the guy with Absolute Zero."

'Good point,' I admitted inwardly. Mercy also raised an eyebrow at me—yeah, they weren't wrong.

"As for your question," Mercy said, "the rumours are strong. And worse, they're coming from sources we don't want to hear such absurd news from. Which is why... tomorrow, you investigate. No fighting. No heroics. If you find something or if you even think something's off, you come back and report immediately."

He leaned closer, voice dropping low. "Please don't engage it... If you do think about it anyway, then please don't die... Because Sia will turn into an actual grim reaper just to hunt us down." Damn, the desperation in their tones... who do they care about though, me or Sia? I wandered.

"Yeah... Please don't die," Edward also added.

I chuckled nervously. "Yeah, uh... noted."

Mercy handed me something small, red and white, metallic, cold to the touch. I caught it easily.

"This is a flare gun," he explained. "If things go south—or if your stupidity wins over your common sense, which it usually does—fire it straight up. We've imbued our mana into it. As soon as you fire, we'll feel the mana thread snap inside us, like a jolt. No matter where we are, we'll know."

That... was actually reassuring.

Knowing two SS-ranked knights would rush to save my ass?

Yeah. That was nice.

I tucked the flare gun into my belt and gave them a nod.

"Before we part ways," I asked, tilting my head slightly, "what exactly would you guys do if I do engage the Wraith and fire the flare gun?

I mean, if my attacks don't land, yours sure as hell won't either. What's the plan exactly in that scenario?"

There was a short pause. Edward exhaled, thinking about it, before answering with his usual bluntness.

"Hmm. Good question," he said.

"Best case scenario? We escape—the three of us—alive."

He shrugged, like it wasn't anything special. "Worst case? Mercy and I die trying to cover your retreat... and you run for your damn life."

Mercy, standing next to him, gave the faintest of nods. His jaw tightened, but he didn't add anything. He didn't need to.

It was written all over his face—he wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of throwing away his life. Not yet. Not for this.

'Yeah... he's got a fiancée and a kid waiting for him,' I thought.

A small, bitter smile crept onto my lips before I could stop it.

Of course, he'd hesitate.

"Don't worry," I said, waving a hand lazily even though I felt a cold weight settle in my gut. "I'm reckless. Not suicidal.

Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it tomorrow."

Both of them gave me their best wishes. They meant it. I could feel it.

We didn't linger much longer. Time was bleeding away, and none of us wanted to tempt fate by staying too long under the open sky.

I turned away from them and started walking back toward the city lights in the distance. My boots crunched against the gravel, each step a reminder that I was walking toward something I didn't fully understand.

Behind me, Edward's voice rang out one last time, teasing.

"Oi, Lucius! Your hair's turning white, you old man!"

I didn't even bother turning around. I simply raised one middle finger high into the air as my answer.

It earned a laugh from both of them—the kind of laugh that tried to drown out the tension none of us wanted to speak about.

As their voices faded behind me, I let my smile drop.

The night felt colder now.

The lamplight from the under-poles stretched across the dirt path in long, lonely fingers, casting twisted shadows.

A counter against a ghost.

A Wraith.

An entity that shouldn't even exist according to the rules of this world.

Terrifying?

Yeah.

But that wasn't what scared me the most.

What scared me... was that part of me wasn't afraid enough.

Part of me wanted to see it up close.

Wanted to understand it.

Wanted to fight it.

I shoved those thoughts down, locking them deep inside.

Tomorrow wasn't about proving anything. It was about surviving. About being useful. About coming back alive.

I inhaled the night air sharply, steadying myself.

'Alright then,' I thought.

'Big man's job tomorrow.'

'Let's not die too early, Lucius.'

And with that final thought, I disappeared into the growing darkness, leaving behind the last traces of warmth and laughter I'd heard tonight.