"May you please tell us what you found about the boy, Sir Leo Ragnar?"
The headmistress of the orphanage—Grace Alarah, a Titan—folded her hands atop the polished desk. Her voice was calm, almost too formal.
Leo sat opposite her, one leg crossed over the other, crimson blazer draped elegantly across his shoulders. The office around them gleamed with quiet luxury—an odd contrast to the worn-down orphanage outside. Mahogany shelves, antique ornaments, carpets too fine for the building they belonged to. Grace had always kept this room immaculate; it was the only place in the orphanage where power still lived.
"You don't expect me to share that with you, do you, Grace?" Leo said with a wide, foxlike smile, leaning back in the chair as though it were his home.
Grace's expression didn't change, though a faint pulse of ether cracked the wood beneath her fingers. "Whatever the case, I can tell you that the boy is tale—"
"Stop."
Leo raised a hand lazily. "I don't care whether he is talented or not. I said I'm adopting the boy. And that is that."
Silence stretched for a breath.
Grace Alarah—grey hair tied neatly behind her, blue eyes sharp as winter—studied him. She looked like a woman in her thirties but carried the quiet pressure of someone far older. She had seen countless children enter and leave these walls… but this was the first time a Ragnar had stepped inside.
And chosen that child.
After a moment she rose from her chair, posture respectful.
"If that is what you wish," she said, bowing slightly.
Leo's smile widened, something dangerous glinting behind it.
"I'll call the boy while Ms. Sophie finishes the paperwork."
Sophie dipped into the file, moving with practiced efficiency.
As she passed Leo, he stepped closer. For a heartbeat his smile vanished; his eyes flared red with a cold and lethal calm.
"Don't try anything funny," he said, voice low and casual as a knife. "Or you know what will happen." He flicked a look at Sophie—an unmistakable, dangerous side-eye—before relaxing back into that poised stillness.
Sophie's hand paused on the papers, but she kept her expression composed. The room hummed with a tension that needed no more words.
---
Grace stepped out into the yard where the children played. Their laughter died the moment they saw her—like someone had pulled the plug on the sun.
She eyed them once, then crouched slightly toward a little girl with messy pink hair and a missing front tooth.
"Where is Seth?"
The girl didn't speak. She simply raised a tiny arm and pointed toward the far tree at the edge of the grounds.
Grace followed the direction, heels clicking sharply against the dirt. Under the shade of the old tree, Seth sat curled up with a worn book—his only escape from this place.
Her lips curled.
To think a six-year-old, talentless monkey could be adopted by the Ragnar family.
"Seth," she called, voice heavy, and stripped of any warmth. "Follow me."
The hatred was blatant—thick enough to feel.
But Seth, small and quiet and used to swallowing things that hurt, simply closed his book and obeyed without a word.
As they walked through the dim corridor, Seth trailed behind Grace with small, uncertain steps.
His mind spun faster than his feet moved.
When we leave… what happens to me?
Will I really be part of their family?
Or will I just clean their floors? Carry their bags? Be a servant with a different surname?
Every possibility twisted his stomach tighter.
Every thought made his chest ache.
But the moment the office doors opened and he saw him again—Leo Ragnar, sitting relaxed yet terrifying in that chair—
every thought vanished.
All except one.
I'm going to die.
Grace stepped forward, placing the completed files on the desk with mechanical precision.
"All paperwork has been completed," she said firmly. "Seth is now in your care. Or should I say…"
She looked at the boy, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp.
"…Seth Ragnar is now in your care."
Sophie looked… different.
Not her usual bright, bubbly self.
Or perhaps this was her usual self, and the cheerful Sophie everyone knew was merely an act—a mask worn for the children.
Seth didn't have time to think much on it; the uncertainty only tightened the pit in his stomach.
Leo stood, bending slightly to grasp Seth's small hand in his own.
"Welcome to the Ragnar family!" he exclaimed, his voice light, almost childish in tone—but with a strange edge of satisfaction that made Seth shiver.
It wasn't the voice of an ordinary man welcoming a child; it was the voice of someone who genuinely took pleasure in control.
The duo left the orphanage, descending the cliff path toward the gate. At the bottom, a car gleamed under the afternoon sun. Luxurious and untouchably expensive—no surprise, it was a Ragnar after all.
Seth stared at it, heart thumping, thoughts tumbling. A new life. And somehow… he felt the weight of the unknown pressing down on him even harder than the cliff above.
The driver stepped out with quiet precision and opened the car door for them. Seth hesitated at first, but Leo gently nudged him forward.
Inside, another man sat—still, imposing, and radiating an aura that made even Leo seem almost ordinary in comparison.
He had the same dark crimson eyes as Leo, but his long black hair framed a face carved from steel. Seth felt his stomach tighten.
He glanced at the boy, his gaze sharp enough to slice through bone.
"Is this the child… with the Primordial?" he asked, voice cold, carrying weight that made the air itself feel heavy.
"I think so," Leo replied casually, though a flicker of overcomfort crossed his features.
The older man's brow tightened.
"What do you mean, 'you think so?' Ugh… what a stupid brother I have."
Seth's heart skipped a beat.
So… this was Leo's brother. And from the way he carried himself, he wasn't just any brother. He was the head of the Ragnar family.
He leaned forward slightly, crimson eyes locking onto Seth's.
"Hello, boy. My name is Damian Ragnar. I am the Head of the Ragnar family."
Even sitting, his presence made the air feel oppressive. Seth could already tell—this wasn't going to be an ordinary life.
<[End of chapter 3]>