035 The Truth - Part 1 - Mirai’s POV

  I woke up to the soft hum of the air conditioner.

  The sheets beneath my fingers were smooth—too smooth. The bed was too soft. The air smelled faintly of expensive linen and disinfectant.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  I sat up, brushing my hair away from my face. My smartphone sat on the nightstand, charging. I picked it up and checked the time.

  Sunday.

  My heart sank.

  That meant yesterday really happened.

  I killed someone.

  My stomach twisted painfully.

  I had actually done it. Driven a toothbrush into a person’s skull. Watched the blood that pooled beneath his head. Smelled the iron of his blood that seeped through the air.

  I… I’m a murderer.

  I wanted to cry right there and then. My throat closed up and my chest tightened. But I couldn’t let myself break down now.

  I swallowed hard and forced myself to breathe evenly.

  I turned toward the other bed.

  Empty.

  “Morning, sunshine.”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  Across the room, lounging at the small table with a cup of coffee in one hand and a pte of breakfast in front of her—was Mark’s mom.

  Evelyn.

  “Oh, don’t look so surprised.” She smiled, her chin propped on one hand. “Mark’s off doing… well, whatever he does. He’s not exactly a morning person.”

  My heart pounded. “Mark’s mom!”

  She ughed. “Please. Just call me Evelyn.”

  Her tone was light—casual, even—but something about the way her gaze sharpened made me feel like I was standing in front of a predator.

  I hesitated. “…Where’s Mark?”

  Evelyn didn’t answer right away. She cut into a piece of toast and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

  “Come sit,” she said, gesturing toward the seat across from her. “Breakfast is still warm.”

  I hesitated.

  Evelyn smiled. “Or would you rather starve?”

  Reluctantly, I climbed out of bed. My legs felt shaky beneath me. I was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday—my civilian clothes.

  Yesterday…

  It slowly started coming back to me.

  The assassin. The store. The blood. Cox’s mocking voice. Mark pulling a knife.

  I slid into the chair across from Evelyn, my hands tightening into fists on my p.

  “Where is Mark?” I repeated.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Evelyn said breezily. “He’s around.”

  That’s when I noticed it.

  Near the closet, against the wall—

  Familiar bags. Familiar shoes. My bag. My things.

  “…What are my things doing here?” I asked slowly.

  “Oh, that.” Evelyn took a sip of her coffee. “You’ll be staying here for the time being.”

  My heart thudded painfully.

  “…What?”

  “It’s for your protection.”

  Protection.

  I thought of the dead man. The blood on the floor. The store burning to the ground.

  My breath quickened. “You can’t just—”

  “It’s already arranged.” Evelyn’s tone didn’t change. Calm, smooth, detached. “Until the hit on you is dealt with, you’ll be safer under my care.”

  “I— But—”

  Evelyn’s eyes sharpened. “You want to survive, don’t you?”

  I froze.

  My hands curled into the hem of my skirt.

  “…I can still attend csses?” I asked weakly.

  “Of course,” Evelyn said, her smile returning. “You’re not a prisoner. Think of this as… insurance.”

  Insurance.

  Because someone wanted me dead.

  I forced myself to breathe through the rising panic.

  Evelyn nudged the pte toward me. “Eat.”

  My eyes dropped to the food—scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

  My stomach turned.

  “I’m not hungry,” I whispered.

  Evelyn’s smile didn’t fade. “Eat anyway.”

  Her gaze darkened slightly.

  I hesitated—then picked up the fork. My hands were shaking as I forced down a bite of egg.

  It tasted like nothing.

  Evelyn watched me with sharp, quiet interest.

  “Good girl,” she said.

  I swallowed down the st bit of egg, even though it sat like lead in my stomach. My hands were still shaking.

  “Why?” I asked. My voice was quiet, but I knew Evelyn heard me.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Why what?”

  “Why am I being targeted? Why are you helping me? Who sent that… man?”

  Evelyn smiled faintly and dabbed her lips with a linen napkin. “Easy, tiger. One at a time.”

  My fists tightened under the table. “Where’s Mark?”

  Evelyn’s gaze sharpened. For a moment, she studied me with that calcuting expression of hers, like she was deciding how much to say.

  “Just a small errand,” she said finally.

  “What errand?”

  Evelyn’s smile widened. “Oh, nothing of the sort you’re thinking.”

  That didn’t make me feel any better.

  “My boy is a good kid,” Evelyn added. “He’s rough around the edges, but he turned out well considering what he’s been through.”

  Her tone was light, almost fond, but it made my skin crawl.

  I didn’t know whether to be furious or horrified as Evelyn—calmly, vividly—began recounting the training she’d put Mark through.

  “…I used to leave him alone in a dungeon,” Evelyn said, swirling her coffee as if she were describing a vacation. “Surrounded by cryptids. No food. No weapons.”

  My blood ran cold.

  “And you know what?” Her eyes glinted. “He survived.”

  I couldn’t breathe.

  Through Eloquence, I could feel her insanity.

  Evelyn smiled, eyes half-lidded. “There’s something about near-death experiences that bring out the potential in a person.”

  “That’s—” My voice shook. “That’s insane.”

  “Perhaps,” Evelyn said smoothly.

  She leaned her chin on her hand, her eyes glittering with dark amusement.

  “Oh,” she added, “and I did make him watch me kill a man once.”

  I stood up so fast the chair scraped back, tipping over with a loud ctter.

  “You what?”

  “He needed to understand how the world works,” Evelyn said, completely unbothered by my reaction. “The first time you take a life is always the hardest. It’s better to learn young.”

  “You’re disgusting,” I whispered.

  Evelyn’s smile didn’t waver. “And yet, my son is alive.”

  My hands curled into trembling fists. “Do you even care about him?”

  “Oh, I care,” Evelyn said, tilting her head. “More than you know.”

  I hated her.

  It wasn’t even the way she spoke about killing like it was nothing. It wasn’t her casual bloodthirstiness or her complete ck of remorse.

  It was the way she knew how horrifying she sounded—and didn’t care.

  She was deliberately painting herself as the vilin.

  And honestly? It was working.

  I hated her already.

  And then Evelyn smiled—sharp and pyful—and said, “Congratutions on your first kill, by the way.”

  My breath hitched.

  “I’m impressed,” Evelyn said lightly. “Your form could use work, but you showed initiative.”

  “You were there? You saw everything?”

  “Oh, yes, I did… you could use some character growth, my sweet protagonist…”

  I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I’m not that kind of person,” I said, my voice sharp and shaking.

  Evelyn’s gaze darkened. “Aren’t you now?”

  I clenched my fists. “I don’t enjoy killing.”

  “I’m sure you believe that,” Evelyn said. “But instincts are instincts. And when the time comes, you’ll do it again.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not—”

  “Hmm.” Evelyn smiled and sat back. “You’ll see.”

  My heart hammered painfully in my chest. I turned toward the door—toward anywhere but here—then stopped.

  A memory resurfaced.

  Cox’s words.

  “You’ve never killed anyone before.”

  I turned back toward Evelyn.

  “Is it true?” I asked.

  Evelyn raised an eyebrow.

  “Mark,” I said. “He’s never… killed anyone? He’s not like you?”

  Evelyn’s gaze sharpened.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Cox,” I said. “He said something like that when Mark had a knife to his throat. He said Mark didn’t have the guts.”

  Evelyn’s expression didn’t change.

  And that was weird.

  Because if what Evelyn said was true—if Mark grew up in dungeons and watched her kill people—then why would Cox say that?

  Why would Mark hesitate?

  Evelyn’s smile didn’t fade. But her eyes narrowed just slightly.

  “Well,” she said softly. “So what? It doesn’t change anything?”

  The words sent a chill through me.

  "Let’s talk about the more important questions," Evelyn began, cutting off any chance for me to press about Mark. She leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs, her posture completely rexed. The pyful glint in her eyes hadn’t faded. “I’m a busy gal, so let’s use our time more meaningfully, okay?”

  I frowned. “What questions?”

  Evelyn smiled faintly. “How much do you know about precogs?”

  “Precogs?” I hesitated. “Not a lot. Just that they’re rare. And dangerous.”

  “Correct,” Evelyn said. “Extremely rare. Extremely dangerous.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “And?”

  “And nothing,” Evelyn said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I was simply curious.”

  My fingers curled into my sleeves. “What’s the point of this?”

  “The point?” Evelyn’s lips curved. “Curiosity is the point, darling. Think of it as a leading question to a very important sub-plot to a story…”

  I scowled. “Please stop with the cryptic nonsense… You want to ask questions other than Mark? Fine. I couldn’t afford a pce like this.” I gestured at the luxury around me. The hotel room. The marble floors. The sheer, oppressive feeling of wealth pressing down on me. “What exactly are you getting out of this?”

  Evelyn’s eyes darkened. “A good question.”

  “And why are you so focused on me?” I leaned forward, voice sharp. “If you’re so worried about Mark’s safety, why are you deflecting every time I bring him up?”

  Evelyn’s smile sharpened. “Because this conversation isn’t about Mark.”

  “But—”

  “What’s more important?” Evelyn’s eyes glittered. “Mark? Or your life?”

  I stared at her.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Evelyn continued smoothly. “I came to enjoy my breakfast and, while at it, discuss the hit put on you. Mark is not part of this conversation for a reason.”

  My jaw tightened.

  “I came to enlighten you,” Evelyn added. “Because it seems you’re woefully under-informed about why you’ve become so… valuable.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts.

  “Mark,” I said without hesitation. “Mark is more important.”

  Evelyn’s eyes widened in mock surprise. And then she ughed.

  A low, pleased sound that sent chills down my spine.

  “Oh my,” Evelyn said, setting her coffee cup down with a delicate clink. “Look how far you’ve fallen for him. My boy’s doing a good job.”

  My face heated. “It’s not—”

  “Of course it is.” Evelyn’s eyes glinted. “You’re a bright girl, Mirai. You know exactly what you’re feeling.”

  “It’s not like that!” I shot back. “Besides… that’s not how Mark feels about me.”

  Evelyn’s smile widened.

  “Oh?” She snapped her fingers. “Ah. Empath. I almost forgot about that part…”

  I froze.

  My heart skipped painfully.

  My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. “What?”

  Evelyn’s smile was all teeth. “What’s the matter? Did I hit a nerve?”

  My mouth dried. No one was supposed to know about that.

  Master Reina knew. Professor Merrick probably suspected. But I hadn’t exactly advertised my ability. My power—Eloquence—was a new ability born from my Heroine’s Heart.

  “How did you know?” I demanded.

  Evelyn’s smile didn’t waver. “Darling,” she said lightly. “I make it my business to know things.”

  I swallowed hard.

  This wasn’t normal. .

  She wasn’t just perceptive. She was… too perceptive.

  “You’re bluffing,” I said.

  Evelyn’s eyes narrowed with amusement. “Am I?”

  I focused—trying to feel her heart, the way I could sense everyone else’s. The subtle undercurrent of emotions beneath their words.

  Nothing.

  I couldn’t sense anything from her.

  Absolutely nothing.

  Like trying to hear sound in a vacuum.

  I shivered.

  Evelyn’s eyes gleamed. “Conflicted, aren’t you?”

  I stiffened. “You—”

  “You don’t trust me,” Evelyn said. “Smart girl.”

  I opened my mouth, but Evelyn lifted a hand.

  “I’ll make this easy for you,” she said, voice low. “You don’t need to trust me. But you do need to listen.”

  My hands clenched into fists beneath the table.

  “What exactly are you trying to tell me?” I asked.

  Evelyn’s smile sharpened. “That people don’t put hits on ordinary girls.”

  My breath caught.

  “You’ve gotten stronger,” Evelyn said. “Fast. Too fast.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t bother denying it,” Evelyn cut in smoothly. “And that’s why someone wants you dead.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “Don’t bother trying to read my heart.”

  Evelyn’s voice was calm, almost amused.

  My fingers curled under the edge of the table.

  “I’m not—”

  “Oh, you are,” Evelyn said smoothly, eyes half-lidded as she swirled her coffee. “You’ve been trying this whole time. It’s instinctive for an empath.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Evelyn’s gaze sharpened, cutting me off.

  “I can see the distance between cause and effect,” Evelyn said. Her tone was casual, but the weight behind her words made my pulse spike. “If I don’t want you to read me, then you won’t.”

  My chest tightened.

  “And why’s that?” I challenged.

  Evelyn smiled faintly. “Because I’m not a puzzle for you to solve, dear.”

  My teeth clicked together.

  “Now,” Evelyn said, setting down her cup with a soft clink, “let’s talk about you.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  “The reason you’re being targeted,” Evelyn continued, “is because of an age-old prophecy.”

  I stared at her. “A prophecy?”

  “Yes.” Evelyn’s gaze darkened. “Made by a very powerful precog about two centuries ago.”

  My throat tightened.

  “What kind of prophecy?”

  Evelyn’s lips curled into a smile.

  “The birth of a child of destiny,” Evelyn said. “One who would end the world of dungeons.”

  My heart stopped.

  “…What?”

  Evelyn’s eyes glittered. “And guess what, Mirai?”

  I shook my head slowly.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” Evelyn said. “That child of destiny… is you.”

  My breath hitched. “That’s… That’s impossible.”

  “Oh, it’s entirely possible,” Evelyn said, her tone light. “Do you know how ESPers awaken their powers?”

  I swallowed hard. “…Three ways.”

  Evelyn’s smile sharpened.

  “Luck,” she said. “Talent. Enlightenment.”

  My mouth felt dry.

  “And you,” Evelyn said, “have all three.”

  I shook my head. “That’s—”

  “Abnormal,” Evelyn finished. “Very.”

  I stared at her.

  “My boy, Mark,” Evelyn continued, “woke his up through enlightenment.” Her gaze softened slightly. “From near-death experiences. It took him three or four years to manifest his.”

  I felt my breath stutter.

  “The scions at the Academy?” Evelyn smiled. “The noble bloodlines? They awaken their ESP through talent. Something that can be inherited by blood.”

  “And you?” I asked, before I could stop myself.

  Evelyn’s eyes glinted dangerously.

  “Luck,” she said. “After I was dropped into the abyss.”

  My eyes widened.

  “But ah—” Evelyn chuckled. “I’m derailing.”

  I watched her warily.

  “The point is,” Evelyn said, “you’re special.”

  I stiffened.

  “In the short span of a year,” Evelyn said, “that you manifested your ESP.”

  I opened my mouth—

  Evelyn held up a hand.

  “You’ve gained enough power to contend with my son,” Evelyn said. “With your cssmates. With scions whose pedigree was leagues above yours.”

  Her smile widened.

  “And you even managed to put up a fight against my dear friend Reina.”

  My stomach twisted. “She was holding back.”

  “Of course,” Evelyn agreed. “And yet—it was still incredible.”

  My hands curled into fists.

  “So what do I want?” Evelyn said lightly. “Why am I helping you?”

  Her eyes darkened.

  “What’s in it for me?”

  I met her gaze, heart thudding painfully.

  “Mirai Valeska.”

  Evelyn’s smile sharpened.

  “I want to cut a deal with you.”

  I froze.

  “A deal?” I repeated slowly.

  Evelyn leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.

  “You’re valuable,” Evelyn said. “Powerful. Dangerous. But still young. You would need the support. My support. And I can help you.”

  My pulse hammered painfully in my ears.

  “I can protect you,” Evelyn said. “From whoever wants you dead.”

  I swallowed hard. “And what do you want in return?”

  Evelyn’s gaze turned razor-sharp.

  “You,” she said.

  My breath hitched.

  “What?”

  Evelyn’s smile didn’t waver.

  “I want you to protect Mark.”

  I stared at her.

  “That’s… it?”

  “Of course not,” Evelyn said. “But it’s a good pce to start.”

  My stomach twisted. “Why would I—”

  “Because you’ve already chosen him,” Evelyn said.

  My breath hitched.

  “You’re already willing to die for him,” Evelyn said. “That much is obvious.”

  I hated how easily she said it. How easily she read me.

  “I’m not—”

  “You are.”

  I bit my lip.

  “And let’s not forget,” Evelyn said, eyes glinting. “If the prophecy is true—if you really are the one destined to end the world of dungeons—”

  She smiled.

  “—then there are far worse people than me who’ll want you dead.”

  A cold chill raced down my spine.

  “You need protection,” Evelyn said.

  My hands trembled.

  “And in exchange for protecting you…”

  Evelyn’s smile softened.

  “…you protect my son.”

  My breath stilled.

  “Of course,” Evelyn added. “You’re free to refuse.”

  I knew better than that.

  “I…” My voice faltered.

  Evelyn’s eyes gleamed.

  “You don’t have to decide right now,” she said smoothly. “However, I’d love it if you just say yes. That way, I could get to work immediately… As a bonus, I’ll even give you an allowance. Better yet, I can give you a sary! That sounds good enough to you?”

  My chest tightened.

  I wanted to argue. To reject her. To tell her that Mark didn’t need protecting.

  But the truth was…

  Evelyn wouldn’t be offering this deal if Mark didn’t need protecting.

  And if there really was a prophecy—if I really was the child of destiny—

  Then the people after me…

  …Wouldn’t stop until I was dead.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said quietly.