"Father?"
The word pierced the festive air, hanging heavily in the sudden silence. Whispers surged through the crowd like wildfire. The tightly held secret of Nero's lineage teetered on the edge of public exposure.
And for the Edmon family, that could mean ruin.
"Guards! Remove this insolent child and punish him for his outburst!" Edmon's voice boomed with authority—but it trembled with fear.
The declaration shattered what little hope remained in Nero's heart. A moment ago, he had believed. Believed that revealing the truth might earn him love... or at least acknowledgment.
Instead, pain.
A guard moved in, rough and unwavering. He seized Nero's arm and yanked him forward, dragging him like a misbehaved animal. The man knew exactly who Nero was—but duty demanded obedience, not mercy.
"Ouch! Let me go!" Nero protested, his voice cracking. He fought back, but his strength was no match.
He looked toward Lissa, his mother, eyes begging for help—for warmth.
But Lissa turned away.
To her, he was no longer a child… just a problem. An unwanted complication. Like Edmon, she saw not a son—but a threat.
"So that's how it is..."
KABOOM!
A deafening explosion tore through the hall. Panic erupted as flames surged through the air. Guests screamed, stumbling over one another. Servants dropped trays. Children cried.
Emily spun toward the sound, horrified. Smoke filled the space as a wave of heat radiated outward—originating from Nero.
He stood in the center of the chaos, surrounded by fire. But he wasn't burning. He was the fire.
People caught in the blast lay groaning on the floor, their clothes singed. A few bore minor burns, and others simply cowered.
The child was no longer just a child. He was a storm of grief and fury.
"Nero!" Emily's voice rang out as she stepped forward, ignoring the searing heat.
But the boy didn't move. His eyes were blank, glowing with a pale white light—inhuman, unreadable. The flames licked the walls and blocked the exits, as if alive.
"Please… Young Master. You must stop this. Remember what I told you—magic is meant to protect, not to harm. Please, don't become like them... don't become what they fear."
Something in her voice broke through the haze. Slowly, Nero looked around. Fear. Desperation. Screaming faces. All of it—caused by him.
And just as suddenly as they had risen, the flames vanished.
Smoke curled toward the ceiling as the boy collapsed, unconscious. His energy spent. His soul heavy.
---
Ten Hours Later...
He awoke in darkness.
Cold iron shackles clung to his wrists and ankles. The stone beneath him was rough, and the only light came from a slit in the ceiling. This wasn't his room. This wasn't even a room.
It was a prison.
"Why am I here? Let me out!" he called, his voice echoing in the stillness.
No one answered.
He wept. The tears fell silently—but strangely, they shimmered. A soft, natural energy pulsed in the glow of his sorrow, casting faint light against the cell wall.
Days passed.
No one visited except silent guards with cold eyes. No Emily. No warmth. Breakfast was a piece of stale bread and water—barely enough for a growing child.
Then weeks.
Then months.
And then... a year.
His body grew thin. His cheeks hollowed. His eyes, once curious and full of light, now stared blankly at the stone floor.
Then, one day, came footsteps.
Not the dull thud of the usual guards, but confident, calculated strides. Light from a lantern spilled into the cell as the door creaked open.
Nero barely looked up.
But the man who entered was different.
He was dressed in black and silver, with eyes sharp as blades. Power radiated from him—controlled, dangerous, ancient.
"Hm... malnourished," the man murmured, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.
"Sir, this is the boy," said the accompanying guard, voice low. "He's dangerous. Unstable."
The man said nothing for a long moment. Then he turned sharply. "Remove his chains."
The guard flinched. "But... sir, he—he nearly destroyed a hall full of nobles—!"
"I gave an order."
The man's eyes glinted like moonlight. Under that stare, the guard faltered. With shaky hands, he unlocked the shackles and stepped back.
The chains fell with a cold clang.
Nero stood—barely. His legs trembled. His body swayed.
The stranger stepped forward and looked directly into his eyes. "What's your name?"
Nero blinked, his voice a rasp. "N-Nero."
The man nodded slowly. "Very well. Nero... from this day forward, you are no longer of this house. You belong with me."
Nero's breath caught. "Wh-who are you?"
The man offered a faint smile, but his gaze was ice.
"A teacher. A protector. Or... perhaps something more."
His voice softened, almost kind—but something behind his eyes was deeply cold.
"Come. Let us begin your new
life."
Nero took one hesitant step forward. He was terrified. Confused. But beneath all that... was a spark of hope.
__To be continued__