The words were light, but the air turned heavy. Ethan frowned, displeased.
He leaned forward, setting his glass down with a sharp thud. "Hey, I'm the one who made this happen. Without me, none of this would exist!" His voice carried pressure, his eyes burning, not with pride, but with anger just waiting to ignite.
From the corner, a large man shrugged lazily. "So what? We all worked. Don't act like you're the hero here."
The words stung like a lash. Ethan glared at him. "I never said I'm the most important, but my share should be bigger!"
"Teamwork, Ethan," another said, tone calm but firm. "If you don't like it, step aside."
Ethan's face flushed red. He shot to his feet, muscles tensed like a coiled spring. "You've got some nerve saying that to me!" he shouted, stepping forward, fist ready.
But two others moved faster. One grabbed his arm, another shoved him back.
"Feeling tough now, huh?" one of them barked. Ethan struggled, kicking the table. Bottles shattered, glass scattering across the floor. The room turned to chaos.
But numbers spoke. They slammed Ethan down. He fought, but strength alone couldn't save him. A punch landed on his face; blood trickled from his nose.
Silence fell. The air was thick with heavy breaths. Ethan lay beaten, body bruised, mind fading. Around him, cold faces looked down, judging, unmerciful.
A faint breeze slipped through a cracked window. No laughter, no cheers, only silence, hanging heavy like mist.
Minutes passed before Ethan stirred. He rose unsteadily and staggered out, his body broken but his heart even more so. Each step felt like a quiet mockery of fate.
Under the pale moonlight, his thoughts drifted back to Kaivan. For the first time, a whisper surfaced inside him. Did he ever feel pain like this?
The question lingered, heavy and strange. Ethan shook his head, trying to cast it away, trying to deny the guilt blooming like thorns in his chest. Tonight burned, but it also cracked something deep inside him, something he didn't yet understand.
His steps faded into the cold night, merging with the whispering wind. He didn't know where he was headed. But somehow, this night had changed his direction.
The chill deepened, brushing against his skin and conscience. The scent of wet earth filled the air, reminding him of a rain long gone. His shoes clicked softly on the slick pavement, a rhythm to match his unrest. Home might be close, but his heart was far from it.
Then the silence shattered.
From the darkness, Kaivan emerged, still and unwavering, like a rock standing against a storm. In a flash, before Ethan could react, Kaivan was behind him. A cold hand gripped his head and neck, firm and unrelenting.
"Where are my belongings?" His voice was calm, yet sharp enough to pierce the air.
Ethan froze, not just from the hold, but from Kaivan's sudden, unpredictable presence. Their eyes met, and something shifted. The fury in Kaivan's gaze dimmed, revealing not rage, but a deeper wound.
His grip loosened.
"Were you... betrayed by your friends?" Kaivan asked, voice steady but heavy with truth.
Ethan didn't answer right away. His breath came ragged. His eyes softened; the night grew quieter.
"They sold your stuff," he muttered weakly. "And threw me out." The words weighed heavy, like stones dragged from his chest.
Kaivan didn't stay silent for long. "Let me borrow your phone. I need to call someone."
Ethan hesitated, fidgeting. "I... don't have it with me. You can come to my place if you want."
A moment of silence. The air tensed, but Kaivan nodded. A wordless agreement, yet one that sealed their path.
They walked side by side through the quiet streets, footsteps echoing faintly. Neither spoke. Only the cold stillness filled the space between them.
At Ethan's modest house, he paused and glanced at Kaivan. "Sorry," he said softly, voice trembling with guilt.
Kaivan didn't reply with forgiveness. His voice was flat, cold. "I won't forgive you... not until the Tome Omnicent is back in my hands." The words fell like a gavel. To Kaivan, that book wasn't an object, it was the axis of fate itself.
Inside, an old fan whirred weakly. A flickering yellow lamp cast broken shadows on the wall. The scent of tobacco and old wood filled the small, silent room.
Kaivan stood unmoved, uninterested in the surroundings. He picked up a phone from the table, his face calm but his eyes filled with restrained fury.
He dialed quickly. When the line connected, Felicia's voice flowed through, soft, worried. "Kaivan? Where are you? What happened?"