The Anomaly's Path

The door groaned on its hinges, the sound echoing through the silent hallway.

From the doorway, the boy stepped out. He moved slowly, his bare, dirty feet making almost no sound against the floor.

His breath still came in short, shaky gasps. His eyes were red, the skin around them swollen from crying. Tears had left clean streaks through the dirt on his face, but the wild, desperate fear that had choked him earlier was gone.

In its place was a heavy, tired stillness.

In his right hand, he held out the rolled Mana Oath Contract. He walked until he stood right in front of me, stopping just two steps away.

For a few long seconds, neither of us spoke.

"..."

"..."

The boy looked up, his silver eyes fixed on my face.

Slowly, he raised his trembling right hand and held out the rolled contract. The paper was slightly crumpled at the edge where his fingers had gripped it, but the glowing, mana signature at the bottom was clear and unbroken.

"...I signed it," the boy said. His voice was dry and rough, but it didn’t shake anymore. "I signed your damn paper."

I reached out and took the contract. With a flick of my wrist, it vanished into my Void Pocket.

"Have you actually read the terms properly?" I asked, my voice casual as I crossed my arms. "Or did you just sign because you were scared? Honestly, I half-expected you to slip past me and try go alone and live. You’re a cautious person, aren’t you? So why did you sign?"

The boy’s brow furrowed, a flash of his sharp temper showing through his tiredness. "Shut up," he spat, wiping his sleeve across his nose. "Don’t play dumb with me. You didn’t give me a choice — you just wrapped a trap around my neck and called it an option."

He took a shaky breath, his small chest rising and falling under his torn rags.

"I don’t have a family. I don’t have money. I killed my own team, and the Syndicate has eyes on every exit in this area. If I walked out without your contract, they would have dragged me back into a cage before I reached the main street."

His eyes locked onto my face with a sharp, angry glare.

"You let me live because you wanted an asset, not a corpse. You backed me into a corner so I’d realize that gambling on a rich bastard with an ego is my only chance to survive. You didn’t kill me, and that’s the only reason I’m standing here instead of bleeding out in a ditch. So don’t act like you’re doing me a favor."

I stared down at the kid for a moment before letting out a dry cough, suppressing the urge to laugh out loud.

He saw right through every bit of it, I thought, genuinely impressed. As expected of someone who managed to stay alive in the underworld all by himself.

"Fair enough," I said.

"You see through the act, but the truth doesn’t change. It’s a half-truth. I was never going to hunt you down if you walked away. If you were dumb enough to run back into the Syndicate’s hands, you would have died by someone else’s blade anyway. I don’t waste time on dead men."

I stepped closer, my shape towering over the small boy.

"I never asked you to worship me, and I’m not your savior. I’m a noble who needs someone useful, and you’re a brat who needs a roof, food, and a reason to live. Work for me, do what I ask, and I’ll give you everything you need to get strong enough so no one ever chains you again."

The boy grunted, turning his head to glare at the wall, refusing to answer.

I reached into my void pocket, pulled out a chocolate bar, and tossed it. The boy’s reflexes kicked in — his hand shot out and caught it mid-air. He looked down at the bar, his eyebrows twisting with suspicion.

"What is this?"

"Chocolate," I said flatly. "Eat it. Your mana core is drained, and your body is running on pure spite. You look like you’re about to pass out."

The boy raised an eyebrow and slowly unwrapped the chocolate bar. He brought it to his nose and took a small, careful sniff.

Then he bit off a tiny piece. His eyes widened as the sweet taste hit his tongue. Without a second thought, he shoved the whole chocolate bar into his mouth and chewed fast, all while trying to keep his cold glare.

I watched him, a small smirk forming on my face.

Under all that tough talk, the sharp words, and the desperate need to look dangerous, the kid was still just a sixteen-year-old who had spent years alone, hungry, and crying in the dark.

He acts like he’s made of iron, I thought, watching him chew with his cheeks puffed out. He tries so hard to be cold, but his face gives him away. The boy’s sharp pride and stubborn attitude felt familiar. It reminded me of someone I dealt with every day at the academy.

Riven Ashford.

He always walked around with a cold, unapproachable look, desperate to escape his grandfather’s shadow. But underneath all that pride, Riven was a good person who cared about his allies — even if he’d rather lose an arm than admit it.

Great, I sighed internally, feeling a faint headache brewing. Another tsundere. Why do I keep collecting people like this?

I cleared my thoughts. "Alright, brat. First order of business: we’re dropping ’Trash’ and ’Asset 09.’ You need a real name."

The boy paused, his jaw slowing down as he swallowed the last of the chocolate. His gaze lowered, returning to that quiet, guarded state. "...I told you. I don’t have one."

"Then I’m giving you one," I said.

I went quiet for a moment, looking down at the small, battered figure standing before me in the dim light.

Sixteen years old, I thought, seeing the dried blood under his nails, the rope burns on his wrists, and the deep tiredness carved into his face.

He had spent his whole life dragged through the filth of the underworld. Starved, beaten, locked in cages, treated like an animal... yet his spirit never broke. Most people die in those gutters before they reach this age, but he survived through pure spite.

My mind turned to his conceptual control affinity. It was a rare, terrifying affinity — an ability born not from formal training, but from a desperate, instinctual need to seize control of his own fate when stripped of every basic right.

He needed a name that recognized what he survived, but gave a clear, sharp purpose to what he would become.

"Julian," I declared, my voice firm and grounded. "Julian Stark..."

The boy blinked, his head snapping up. "What kind of name is that? What does it mean?"

"Julian is a name rooted in endurance — someone who holds firm no matter how hard the world tries to break him," I explained. "And Stark means unyielding, solid, and absolute. It means you don’t bend, you don’t break, and you don’t bow to anyone."

I pointed a finger at his chest. "You spent sixteen years being controlled by monsters, locked in iron chains. From now on, you’re the one taking control of the board."

The boy stared at me, his mouth slightly open. He looked back down at his dirty, calloused hands, repeating the name under his breath in a low, hesitating murmur. "Julian... Stark..."

I leaned down slightly, my face inches away from the boy’s ear. "What’s with that look? Are you blushing, Julian?"

"No! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Julian’s head snapped back up, his face instantly flushing bright red up to his ears as he glared fiercely at me. "Shut up! Shut up, you bastard!"

I laughed and reached out, shoving my hand onto the kid’s head and ruffling his messy hair. He swatted at my arm, trying to push me off, but I didn’t move.

"You did a good job surviving," I said, my voice dropping into something quieter.

"Seriously. It takes a lot of stubbornness to get this far when you’re weak, alone, and the whole world is against you. Most people break and die in the dirt before they turn sixteen. You should be proud that you made it."

I smirked and gave his hair one last shake. "If I were in your place back then, I probably wouldn’t have survived either. So keep that stubbornness."

Julian froze. His hands stopped pushing me. He stared at the floor with wide eyes. Then he pulled back sharply, crossed his arms, and turned his red face away. "Shut up... it’s not like I wanted your praise anyway..."

"Sure, sure," I chuckled, pulling my mask back on. "Let me put this on. We need to get the others and leave."

_

We walked down the quiet tunnel toward the transport gate outside the auction.

Julian walked half a step behind me, his small, thin body making him look much younger than sixteen. Years of hunger and living in dark alleys had stunted his growth, leaving him shorter than most kids his age.

Up ahead, near the transport platform, three figures stood waiting by some sealed supply crates. All three wore masks that covered their whole faces.

As Julian and I stepped out of the tunnel, all three turned to look at us.

"Boss," Caster said, his voice turned into a deep, robotic sound by the mask. "You took your time."

"Everything’s handled," I said, stopping beside them. I gestured toward the small, boy behind me. "This is Julian."

I pointed to the three masked figures. "Caster, our engineer. Julia, spatial logistics. Malva, fighter."

Caster leaned forward, squinting at the kid through his mask. "So this is the boy, huh?" He chuckled and reached out to pat Julian’s head. "Looks like a strong wind could knock him over, but hey, welcome to the crew, kid—"

Tak!

Julian slapped Caster’s hand away hard, his eyes flashing with anger. "Don’t touch me."

Caster blinked as he rubbed his wrist. "Ow! Sheesh, boss, this brat has zero manners!"

Julia pulled back slightly, watching Julian quietly. Malva just gave him a brief, blank look before turning her gaze toward me.

"Are we returning now?" Malva asked.

"Yeah," I replied, turning toward the transport array. "We head back immediately."

As the gate started to hum, I pulled out my watch and stepped away from the group to figure out where to put Julian tonight.

The gate would bring us straight back to the Academy station. 20,000 gold credits gone in a flash. I had already spent so much tonight that this felt like a drop in the ocean, but it still stung.

Then there was the barrier problem...

The academy was a heavily guarded place. Only students, teachers, and staff could pass through the barrier gates. Unregistered people couldn’t enter without approval from high-ranking staff or the Student Council. Even overnight passes needed strict registration.

I can’t bring Julian to the academy without setting off the security alarms, I thought. And leaving him in a random hotel tonight is too risky — he still needs care.

My plan for tomorrow was already set: my mother was arriving in the city. I would hand Julian and Lyra over to her, and she would take them to the Celestial estate. There, he could rest, train under Lyra, and prepare for the Aegis entrance exams next year.

But I needed a safe place to keep him for tonight.

I tapped my watch and opened my contact list. I scrolled through the names:

Strict Monster (Sylvia)

Crazy Elf Bastard (Roan)

Bloody Manic (Alice)

Violent Hobo (Morgana)

Tsundere #1 (Riven)

Daddy issues (Caster)

I considered calling Sylvia, but instantly dropped the idea. If I call Sylvia at this hour asking to hide a former Syndicate slave kid, she’ll interrogate me for hours and probably punch me through a wall just for fun.

I scrolled to Morgana’s name and called her. It rang twice, but she didn’t pick up.

"She must be busy drinking or causing trouble again," I muttered under my breath, closing the log. "Damn you, useless instructor."

I kept scrolling through my contacts:

Mom

Dad

Little Mia

Peacekeeper (Lyssaria)

Julia

Malva

Then my thumb stopped at a name near the bottom: Glutton

I looked at the name for a second, a sigh escaping my lips.

Seris.

She was a student council officer. She had the authority to issue temporary overnight visitor badges for the guest to stay in the academy city.

I tapped her name and send her text.

_

Meanwhile, in the training hall of Aegis Academy...

The wide, reinforced arena was dead silent save for the heavy breathing of a single figure.

Seris stood in the center of the floor, her black hair tied up in a tight ponytail. Sweat glistened on her shoulders and collarbone. She wore a black sports top and shorts, her lean body showing the muscles of a skilled fighter.

Scattered around her in a wide circle were the cut remains of twenty training dummies — sliced into clean, even pieces by her Lunar power. She let out a slow breath and wiped her forehead with a towel. She walked to a bench by the wall and reached for her water.

Buzz

Her watch buzzed against her wrist, lighting up with a new message. Seris looked at the name on the screen: Reckless Choco Giving Perv

A faint twitch flickered at the corner of her lips. She opened the message thread, reading through the brief, blunt text Leo had just sent. She stared at the screen for a moment, opened her water, and took a slow sip.

Buying a kid at a black-market auction and trying to sneak him into the academy... She set the bottle down. He really treats security like a suggestion.

She raised her wrist and typed her response: "...okay."

She closed the screen and tossed her towel onto the bench with a quiet chuckle that echoed in the empty hall.

"Always making things complicated..."