Milo and Lucas slipped out of the abandoned buildings in the impoverished district, moving cautiously through the shadows, their eyes scanning every movement around them. The alleys they traversed were narrow, winding between old, crumbling houses where people still lived despite their poverty.
The streets were mostly empty, the evening having already settled in, casting long, heavy shadows across every corner. Yet distant sounds still lingered — the soft footsteps of someone passing by, laughter spilling from a few open taverns, whispers of travelers crossing the alleys.
Every step was measured and careful. Milo felt his heart thumping with every echo, while Lucas's eyes remained sharp and alert, anticipating any potential threat at any moment.
The city, despite its apparent calm, felt alive. Every abandoned window, every shifting shadow on the walls, every faint glow from a tavern seemed to watch them. The night wasn't just the absence of sunlight; it was a lingering sense of tension, as if the city itself warned them that one wrong move could change everything.
Lucas passed by the orphanage where he had once lived, the building standing quietly in the dim evening light. His steps slowed instinctively as he noticed a familiar figure near the entrance.
"Lucas!" a voice called out, gentle yet carrying a hint of concern.
He looked up to see Sister Liza, the nun who had cared for the children there for so many years. Her expression was a mix of relief and worry, her eyes scanning him as if searching for any sign of trouble.
Lucas moved closer to Sister Liza, his steps slower and more cautious with every meter he covered. She stood firmly, her eyes filled with concern, Before she could respond, Milo's phone suddenly rang, cutting through the quiet of the alley. Milo, walking just behind him, grabbed the phone quickly.
Milo glanced at Lucas and gave a faint smile. "Don't worry, she's my sister."
He stepped a few meters away and lifted his phone to speak with her.
His sister Milena's voice came through, full of worry and anger:
"Milo, for heaven's sake... where are you? It's late!"
Milo replied calmly, gently trying to soothe her tone:
"Milena... I'll be staying at a friend's tonight. I'll be back tomorrow, I promise."
Milena felt a bit reassured, yet a trace of doubt lingered in her voice:
"Did something happen? Are you hurt?"
Before she could continue with something important, Milo interrupted quickly:
"Nothing happened, I swear."
A flicker of guilt passed through Milo for lying, but he wanted to protect her.
He smiled softly, "Goodbye... I love you, sis."
He then hung up and turned off his phone, projecting a calm exterior while his heart remained uneasy.
Milena sat in her room, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a warm light across the space. She wore simple, comfortable clothes, her long brown hair flowing over her shoulders, and her shining brown eyes looked slightly tired from the long day.
A gentle drowsiness tugged at her, and she sighed, "aaaaagh... he didn't even let me finish my sentence."
She tried calling him again, hope flickering for a moment, but there was no answer. She realized he had turned off his phone.
Resting her head on the phone in resignation, she smiled wryly, "That idiot... no other choice... I guess I'll have to call him again."
Milena blushed for a moment as she recalled the last thing Milo had said to her.
He rarely spoke words like that warm, gentle words that made her feel cared for.
She smiled shyly, placing a hand over her mouth, her heart beating a little faster from that small moment that had left an impression on her.
Meanwhile, Lucas finished his conversation with Milo and headed toward him, and they continued walking together through the nearly empty alleys.
Lucas spoke calmly, "No need to worry now... Sister Liza told me they called the city guards after hearing the commotion in the abandoned area."
Milo looked at him thoughtfully. "Commotion? You mean the fight?"
Lucas nodded. "Exactly, our fight... but it's strange, why didn't the city guards show up while we were fighting?"
Milo looked at Lucas thoughtfully. "I guess it's because of that woman who stopped our fight(Celestine) ... maybe she told them not to intervene."
Lucas nodded, pondering. "That's possible... but she(Celestine) didn't chase us when we ran."
Milo thought about it for a moment, then replied with concern:
"Damn... this is worrying. We really don't know what her goal is.
But her appearance... it seems somewhat familiar to me."
Lucas reached his small apartment and opened the door with a faint smile.
"You look exhausted, Milo... come, spend the night at my place. We'll get some rest."
Milo hesitated for a moment but felt relieved at the thought of a safe place to spend the night away from the dark streets. He entered the apartment, simple but warm, and leaned his back against the wall for a moment.
He sat on the bed and raised his hands to his head, running them through his slightly long brown hair that reached his neck, feeling tangled from the events of the day. His brown eyes, usually sharp and calm, now looked weary, heavy-lidded.
Milo lay down on his back, feeling the warmth of the blanket, slowly closing his eyes as he tried to calm his mind, crowded with questions about the mysterious woman, her motives, and about Toxivar as well. His delicate face reflected a mix of worry and fatigue, lips pressed slightly as thoughts raced inside, while his breathing gradually slowed as he tried to relax.
Even in his exhaustion, Milo's mind kept turning over the events, attempting to recall any familiar trace of that woman, but the answer remained elusive.
Morning dawned quietly in the narrow streets of Novara's poorer district. Golden sunlight filtered between the old buildings, casting long shadows on cracked sidewalks and weathered walls. The air was slightly chilly, carrying the scent of freshly baked bread from simple homes, mingled with faint wisps of smoke rising from cooking fires. In Lucas's old apartment, the worn wooden window allowed scattered morning light to fall softly across the modest, sparsely furnished room. Slow city sounds drifted inside: a few footsteps on the street, a vendor calling out his goods, the rustle of wind among old crates. The atmosphere was a mix of melancholy and warmth, a calm before the day's bustle, while worry quietly crept into Milo's thoughts about the upcoming test.
Milo woke up to Lucas's voice, who was already sitting on his bed, clothes neatly arranged.
"Wake up, Heya," Lucas said with a faint smile. "Wash your face, and let's head to the orphanage at Sister Lisa's to have breakfast there."
Milo slowly opened his eyes, still half-asleep, his messy brown hair falling over his forehead, and his features carrying a hint of surprise and drowsiness. He got out of bed reluctantly and walked toward the sink, splashing cold water on his face, trying to fully awaken his body and mind.
Looking into the mirror, he saw his brown eyes sparkling more sharply after the water, and his wet hair lightly clinging to the sides of his face. Milo felt a renewed energy, despite the hidden anxiety about the day ahead, and prepared to set off with Lucas toward the orphanage, ready for another day filled with small tasks and challenges in the poor district.
Milo and Lucas arrived at Sister Lisa's orphanage, and she greeted them with a warm smile and eyes sparkling with happiness.
"Welcome, my children!" Lisa said gently. "I'm so glad to see you this morning."
Lisa set breakfast on the table next to the children. It was very modest bread, some fruit, and a little soup but despite its simplicity, the atmosphere was full of joy and contentment. The children laughed and chatted freely, and Milo and Lucas sat among them, feeling warmth and reassurance, if only for a brief moment, away from the dangers of the streets and their usual worries.
Among the children, Milo noticed Mira, the little girl who had previously stolen his pendant. Their eyes met, and she smiled shyly at him. Milo returned the smile, feeling a strange mix of familiarity and forgiveness stir within him.
There was also another person sitting beside the children, wearing a scarf that covered his mouth, hiding most of his features. Milo noticed him quickly but said nothing, observing from a distance. The atmosphere was calm, with a subtle spark of curiosity about this mysterious figure who seemed cautious yet carefully watched everything happening in the orphanage.
Milo looked at the scarfed figure but couldn't recognize him. Lucas noticed Milo's gaze and spoke quietly, so no one else could hear:
"Oh... that person, he's also one of the troublemakers."
Milo leaned slightly closer to Lucas, whispering:
"Really? I've never seen him before... he seems mysterious."
The atmosphere in the orphanage was warm and simple. Despite the modest surroundings, the small hall was filled with the laughter of children enjoying their humble breakfast. The scent of bread and milk lingered in the air, and every corner carried a sense of comfort and safety, even for those who had lived a hard life on the streets.
Milo and Lucas finished their breakfast, thanking Sister Lisa for her kindness and care. As they left, they stepped into the narrow streets of the poor district, where the morning sunlight filtered between the old buildings, casting a gentle glow on the alleys. The distant sounds of the city faded gradually, leaving the streets in a temporary calm, as if Novara itself was granting them a brief moment of peace before the new day of challenges began.
Milo and Lucas paused for a moment, and Lucas extended his hand toward Milo.
Lucas, with a faint smile: "I truly enjoyed my time with you, even if we meet again under bad circumstances."
Milo shook his hand: "Yeah, you're right, but i enjoyed too."
Lucas prepared to leave: "Now I'm heading to the city center to work... what about you?"
Milo took a step closer, his expression serious: "Can I ask one last thing from you?"
Milo looked at Lucas seriously, awaiting his request:
"Can I meet Toxivar one last time? I want to talk to him."
Lucas paused for a moment, his expression showing deep thought before he responded.
Lucas looked into Milo's eyes, seeing the unwavering confidence there.
"Damn... I really can't refuse your request this time."
He grabbed his phone and added, "Give me a few minutes, I'll convince him."
After a few minutes, he pointed to Milo from a distance: "He's in that tavern."
Milo smiled, saying, "Th... thank you."
Lucas raised his hand in a wave and continued on his way toward the city center.
Milo headed toward the tavern, his heart filled with anticipation and tension.
The streets were quiet, with the cold morning light seeping between the old buildings, illuminating the cobblestones and highlighting the cracks in the walls.
The air was filled with the scent of dust and morning dew, along with distant sounds of children playing and people starting their day.
Milo's steps on the cobblestones echoed softly, while the long shadows of the buildings faded with the rising sun.
Some of the dilapidated shops were open, with slow movements and quiet activity spilling into the streets, giving a sense of a city waking up gradually, its people beginning the day with caution and anticipation.
Milo walked with steady steps, his heart beating with a mild tension, yet resolute in his determination to meet Toxivar.
His hands were lightly clasped in front of him, and his eyes carefully scanned the path ahead, ready for any surprise that might appear.
His serious expression revealed his resolve, with a faint edge of worry flickering in his eyes.
His brown hair swayed slightly with his movements, and the cold morning air brushed against his face, sharpening his focus for what awaited.
Each step bringing him closer to the tavern heightened his sense of responsibility, yet his determination remained unshaken.
Milo spotted Toxivar sitting at the bar, the tall stools lined neatly along it, with the bartender preparing drinks behind the counter. Milo didn't hesitate; his steps were steady and his eyes fixed on Toxivar. His heart raced, a mix of nervousness and determination, but he continued moving straight toward him, resolute for their final meeting.
Toxifar sat on a flat wooden bar stool, his body relaxed as if he owned the entire chaotic tavern. His long green hair fell in two strands over his face, while the rest of it tumbled over his shoulders in a careless, yet strikingly noticeable manner; the tips caught the soft morning light filtering through the dusty windows. His face was slightly thin, with sharp jawlines giving him a vigilant, ready-for-anything appearance.
The tavern's bartender glanced at Milo, his eyes widening slightly as a flicker of recognition crossed his face. He recalled the chaos from the last fight Milo and Toxifar had caused quite a scene. The memory made him tense, his hands pausing mid-motion as he wiped a glass. He muttered under his breath, barely audible, a mix of irritation and caution
Milo sat beside Toxifar, keeping his composure, while the latter held a glass of his drink, eyes fixed on the liquid before him without glancing at Milo. The atmosphere around them was slightly tense, filled with cautious silence, as if any word spoken next could spark an unexpected flare. Milo remained alert, observing every subtle movement of Toxifar, waiting for the right moment to start the conversation.
Toxifar lifted his glass to take a sip, but Milo placed his hand between the glass and him.
"I won't let you get drunk until we finish our conversation, Toxifar," Milo said firmly, his voice calm yet sharp, filled with determination.
Toxifar set the glass down on the table and looked at Milo coldly.
"Speak, Milo..." he said in a calm voice, showing no hint of hurry, as if nothing else mattered.
Milo scratched his head nervously.
"I don't really know where to start, but... you're the one who killed the guy who attacked my friend, right?"
Toxifar paused for a moment, then looked at Milo and smiled.
"You found out that quickly... or should I guess Lucas told you?"
Milo slowly shook his head, indicating that Toxifar's guess was correct.
Toxifar grabbed the glass, gently swirling it between his fingers before speaking in a cold tone:
"Yeah, I did it... and I enjoyed it.
Their screams were... comforting."
Milo frowned, disturbed by Toxifar's calm expression, as if nothing had happened.
He rose from his seat and stepped closer, his voice firm as he said:
"You need to turn yourself in... you've already become a murderer."
Toxifar looked at him, his green eyes gleaming with a sharp spark as he spoke coldly:
"Milo... in this miserable world, there's a city called Novara a place where neither justice nor equality exists.
So, the loss of a few outlaw souls... doesn't really make a difference."
Milo fell silent for a moment, looking at Toxifar with a calm, understanding gaze before saying softly:
"Toxifar... you're better than this."
Toxifar shifted slightly at Milo's words, clearly affected but trying not to show it. Then he let out a faint, irritated chuckle.
"Tch... I thought you came to say something important, or maybe to join us.
But you've disappointed me, Milo."
Toxifar stood up, placing his hand heavily on Milo's shoulder, speaking with a harsh, mocking tone:
"I really thought we'd make a great duo... but you're just another dog for the Novara Church, a weak coward unwilling to pursue justice."
Milo grabbed Toxifar by the collar suddenly, and chairs toppled beside them as tension surged in the air. The bartender trembled in fear, worried another incident might occur, while everyone in the tavern turned their eyes toward Milo and Toxifar, charged with tension and anticipation.
Milo looked at Toxifar with sorrow:
"What are you trying to achieve? Destroying the church and waging war inside Novara is never the solution, and you know it. Besides, killing people won't make you any different from the church and those who control it."
Toxifar flared up at Milo's words and pushed his hand forcefully.
Milo raised his hand steadily, his face filled with restrained anger:
"I've really had enough..."
At that moment, Milo was about to strike Toxifar.
Milo froze for a moment, his eyes widening in shock as the tall man appeared with startling speed, as if nothing could stop him from vanishing and reappearing instantly. His right hand landed on Milo's shoulder, the left on Toxifar's, trapping them both with no room to move.
Even Toxifar showed a rare flicker of surprise, not expecting such a sudden appearance, his green eyes flashing with alertness and caution. Milo, despite his astonishment, took a deep breath, trying to process the situation, feeling the weight of the man's presence pressing between him and Toxifar, as if the air in the tavern had frozen, and all eyes were now on the three of them.
He positioned his face close between Milo and Toxifar, his right hand on Milo's shoulder and his left on Toxifar's, preventing any further escalation. In a calm yet firm voice, he said:
"My young friends, stop this quarrel and let's resolve this peacefully."
The tavern fell silent instantly, all eyes fixed on the three of them, as Milo and Toxifar felt the immediate weight of his presence and authority.
Toxifar looked at him, clearly surprised.
"Who the hell are you?" he muttered.
The man stood upright, rubbing the back of his head casually.
"Well... I'm just a man looking for work," he said lightly.
In Toxifar's mind, thoughts raced: What does he mean by that? And why do I feel like he's not an ordinary human?
He then glanced at Milo, and Milo felt the same strange, heavy presence emanating from the man.
Toxifar whispered to himself, tension in his tone: Damn... I hope this ends well.
The man stepped back from them. "Alright... I guess you two have calmed down now, so
Before he could finish, Toxifar dashed out of the tavern, leaving abruptly.
Suddenly, Milo ran after Toxivar, leaving the tavern quickly as well.
The man watched them for a moment, then chuckled softly, "Damn... they ran off before I could finish my words."
He added under his breath, "Well, anyway, I guess the problem is solved."
The bartender grabbed the man's hand, saying, "Thank you so much, mighty man! You really are a hero."
Some of the tavern patrons started talking to him, "You really scared them... are you a magician or what?" while others laughed at the scene.
In the man's mind, he thought, "Ah... why do people always misunderstand me?"
At that same moment, Milo chased after Toxivar.
"I can feel his energy... he's close," Milo thought.
As Milo approached him, three people suddenly blocked his path.
The scarfed man stands directly in front of Milo, flanked by two others, both appearing alert and ready for any confrontation. Their stance suggests they're trying to block or contain Milo, while the scarfed man's gaze is fixed on him with a calm, calculating intensity, as if studying every move before making a decision. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and the surrounding street or area feels almost silent, as if everything is holding its breath, waiting to see what happens next.
The thick-haired blond man standing next to the scarfed figure glared at Milo, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Do you remember me, you bastard?" he asked, his tone cold and taunting.
Milo's gaze hardened, his body tense and ready. Every muscle was coiled like a spring, his senses alert for any sudden move. The morning light fell unevenly across the cracked pavement, highlighting the determined expression on his face as he faced the two opponents blocking his path.
The narrow street seemed to shrink around them, the buildings casting long shadows that mingled with the tension radiating from the three figures. The air was sharp with anticipation, carrying the faint scent of dust, damp stone, and distant smoke, as if the city itself held its breath for what was about to unfold.