Kalm opened his eyes, stunned—
The swirling, overlapping colors of the Beautiful Rift danced before him like a living painting.
He'd experienced this before...
Yet it still stole his breath every time.
For a moment, he was lulled—
Drawn into the beauty of it.
He had wanted to stand in silence—just a minute—for Kalystra.
But instead,
He found himself **pulled back into the rift**—
Without warning.
Without ceremony.
He half-closed his eyes in a hollow, unimpressed expression.
**"Seriously...?
*Sigh*...
Goodbye, me... until battle calls again."**
The Calm One nodded once in quiet understanding.
And with nothing more than a passing thought,
Kalm recalled him—
And the Calm One dissolved, silently, into his shadow.
**"Shadow-based ability, huh...
Nice."**
He took a shallow breath and focused on leaving the Rift.
---
When Kalm first learned of his curse—
And the existence of his manifestations—
He faced two choices:
**Keep them visible** at all times,
Exposing a lethal, obvious vulnerability...
Or—
**Keep it all hidden.**
His manifestation.
His weakness.
His curse.
All tucked behind a veil of clever misdirection and illusion.
In battle, he would hide,
Let *another version of himself* fight in his place,
Or rely on the Bond Trait to escape.
Or—if nothing else—do *something* when the moment was right.
**Too many complications.
Too many risks.**
Especially now, at the start—
The Calm One was still in the First Stage.
Things might get easier when it reached the Third or Fourth...
When it became a true being among shadows, able to wield them with mastery.
Perhaps when he manifested another one, too.
The thought made him uneasy.
But deep down,
He doubted the world would let him live a quiet, peaceful life anyway.
Once he stepped out of the Rift, a victor of the Awakening Trial,
He would be **recognized.**
A *Woken One.*
One of humanity's elite.
From that point on, he would need to be vigilant—
Smart.
Aware.
One small mistake,
And everything could spiral into disaster—
Especially with that cursed Trait:
**\[Child of Fate]**
It always put him at the center of disasters and world-shaking events.
---
He stepped forward, slow and steady.
Calm expression.
Subtle, humble smile.
And as he raised a hand,
He remembered all the **turrets**—
Mounted along the towering walls—
All the **guards** and **monster-resistant security layers** watching the Rift's edge.
**One misunderstanding,
And his life could be over in a blink.**
Ten steps in—
And Kalm stood just before the rift's exit.
The light shimmered behind him.
His old clothes were back on his body,
Worn and rugged.
Black, tangled hair hanging long.
The single earring still swaying from his ear.
---
The moment he was spotted,
Every weapon in the room swiveled toward him.
A sharp metallic spin filled the air—
Everything locked and ready to fire.
A chill swept over him.
His skin paled.
He lifted his hands slightly and spoke with a friendly tone:
**"I-I'd be really grateful...
If I could stay in *one piece,* please.
I'm human."**
His words hung in the air for a moment.
No response.
Then—
Laughter.
A loud, rolling chuckle.
It echoed clearly from *in front* of him.
But oddly, eerily—
His eyes saw **no one.**
The same cylindrical chamber.
The same deadly weapons lining the twin walls.
Yet not a soul in sight.
Even though the laughter sounded **close.**
So close...
---
'What...
What the hell is happening...?'
The laughter finally stopped.
And the voice returned—
Light-hearted, amused.
**"That was a *great* line, kid...
'I'd be grateful to stay in one piece...'
Hah! That's gold. Truly."**
He chuckled again.
Kalm's mind sharpened.
**'He's Woken.
No doubt about it.
And terrifying, too...
But why the scare tactics?'**
Kalm cleared his throat and asked calmly:
**"Thank you for the compliment, sir...
But, if it's not too much to ask—
Could I maybe leave this room now?
It's…
a little *intense* in here."**
After a few seconds of silence, the man spoke again—
**"That's perfectly fine... my young friend."**
As he spoke, Kalm heard a *snap*—
Fingers clicking.
And suddenly, his vision shifted—
Like a veil had been lifted from his eyes.
He blinked.
Looked again.
The weapons were still there—
But they were *inactive.*
Silent.
Just as they were when he had first stepped into the chamber.
**'How\...? They were armed just a second ago.
Clearly trained on me.'**
But what truly made Kalm **step back**, eyes wide in alarm—
Was the **man** now sitting in front of him.
Only five meters away.
Comfortably reclined in a sleek, padded chair—
As if he'd been there the whole time.
He sat with ease,
Back slightly leaned, relaxed.
Chestnut hair, short and tousled, brushing his shoulders.
Clear brown eyes beneath tired lids.
Pale skin.
Wearing the **official government uniform**:
A custom-tailored black blazer and matching trousers, leather shoes polished to a shine,
And on his right shoulder—
A badge marked with **Four stars.**
In his hand,
He held a small cup, steam curling up from it—
The bold, bitter aroma of coffee unmistakable.
**'High-ranking figure...'**
Kalm thought, eyes locked on the star-emblazoned insignia.
The man took a slow sip,
Face showing nothing but satisfaction and serenity.
He looked at Kalm and spoke again:
**"Young one,
You don't mind if I finish my cup first, do you?"**
Kalm was caught off guard by the request,
But he showed no signs of protest.
Instead, he offered a polite smile, extending a hand slightly in front of him:
**"N-no, of course not, sir.
Please, take your time."**
It would've been **unwise—foolish, even—**
To provoke a high-ranking Woken One.
Especially one this mysterious.
This **unnerving.**
No one would be able to say what might happen
If he rubbed such a figure the wrong way...
The man gave him a bright, grateful smile—
Then turned back to his coffee, gaze distant, expression weary.
---
Kalm stood still, mildly uneasy.
But as he looked at the Woken government officer more closely—
He began to notice.
The sharp, elegant uniform was **rumpled**,
Wrinkled in several places,
As if the man rarely took it off.
And beneath those wide brown eyes—
**Dark bags.** Puffy and shadowed from exhaustion.
Even the man's posture—
The weariness in his face—
It all hinted at long hours without rest.
**'He doesn't stop to breathe, does he...?
What on earth is this guy going through...?'**
Kalm watched in silence.
The man sipped slowly—
As if savoring something sacred.
Something he might not taste again anytime soon.
His complexion seemed to brighten slightly.
His eyes—dulled by fatigue—
Now shimmered faintly with life again.
---
At last, with one final sip,
The man finished his coffee.
He slowly lifted his gaze to meet Kalm's.
And smiled.
**"Thanks for waiting, kid."**
He stood—
Stretched a little—
Then spoke with a tone of friendly warmth:
**"From what I've heard,
You're Kalm, aren't you?
You're from the outskirts too, right?"**