The heavy silence in the sterile white room remained unbroken.
Luka sat motionless on the center of the bed, his gaze fixed on the ornate boxes resting before him.
The words 'Valthorin Institute of Hunters' were embossed in gold on the lids.
Shimmering like a silent omen of a future he hadn't asked for.
Haru broke the stillness, his voice low and grounded.
He looked at Luka with a piercing clarity that made it impossible to look away.
"Luka... you know he wasn't a normal child."
Haru paused for a heartbeat, then leaned in slightly, his tone turning more resolute.
"Out of the three of us, you know this best... and you know that what I am saying is the absolute truth."
Luka's eyelashes flickered.
A sharp pang tightened in his chest, as if a buried memory was fighting to resurface.
He cleared his throat and whispered, his voice barely audible, "Yes... I know."
But he allowed the sentence to end there, choking back the flood of words that threatened to follow.
He reached out and pulled the heavy uniform box toward him, his fingers lingering on the institution's name.
Then, with a sudden, decisive motion, he pressed the lid back down, sealing it shut.
As if he wasn't yet brave enough to face the identity waiting inside.
Pushing the uniform box aside, he grabbed a pair of ordinary clothes from the nearby stack.
Without casting a single glance back at the others, he walked toward the bathroom in silence.
Inside, the roar of the shower sliced through the quiet.
Luka stood perfectly still under the lashing spray of cold water.
The droplets cascaded over his shoulders, swirling around his feet before vanishing down the drain.
He gripped his own upper arms tightly with both hands, as if trying to hold the fragments of his soul together.
He tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes shut.
The rhythmic pelt of the water transported him instantly back to that lightless dungeon where his fate had first shifted.
Behind his closed eyelids, a hazy yet vivid image emerged.
The dust-choked cell, the damp stone walls... and that small boy, Lane, walking straight toward him without a trace of hesitation.
That first encounter remained etched into Luka's heart like indelible ink.
"Luka..."
He repeated his own name softly, tasting the syllables on his tongue.
He remembered the exact moment Lane had first bestowed that name upon him.
Why had it felt so hauntingly familiar back then?
As if he had been waiting for that specific call for lifetimes.
The realization was so profound that even amidst the icy needles of the shower, Luka felt a sudden, phantom warmth.
The memory of Lane's very first smile.
The last droplets from the shower hit the floor, and a heavy silence reclaimed the bathroom.
Luka moved with a new sense of urgency, drying himself before reaching for the clothes he had brought inside.
He slipped into the crisp white shirt, fastening each button with steady fingers, and pulled on the black trousers.
As he caught his reflection in the steamed-up mirror, he noticed a shift in his own eyes.
The hollow gaze of a victim was slowly being replaced by the iron stare of a survivor.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Luka stepped back into the room.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, looking at Yuki and Haru.
"You both should take a shower as well," Luka said, his voice carrying a newfound resonance.
Yuki and Haru exchanged a brief look and, without a word, followed his lead.
They took turns, moving with the synchronized efficiency of those who had shared a life in the shadows.
Haru emerged first, clad in brown bottom-wear paired with a black shirt.
Soon after, Yuki followed, dressed in the same combination.
The earthy brown and deep black making them look like shadows of the earth itself.
Now, all three stood ready.
The sterile white walls of the room no longer felt like a sanctuary, but like a starting line.
They stepped out of the chamber and began their descent down the grand staircase.
The rhythmic thud of their boots echoed through the quiet corridors as they headed toward the lower floor.
At the base of the stairs, right across from the kitchen, a massive dining table stood prepared.
The rich aroma of a warm meal drifted through the air, but Luka's focus remained sharp and elsewhere.
The elderly man was already there, standing by the head of the table.
Watching them with an expression that balanced satisfaction with a hidden gravity.
Luka reached the table but remained standing.
He fixed his steady, unblinking gaze directly onto the old man.
"Why did you give us those uniforms?"
Luka's question was blunt, cutting through the pleasantries of the morning.
A faint, knowing smile touched the elderly man's lips—a smile that held years of unspoken history.
He glanced toward the sunlight streaming through the window before turning his attention back to Luka.
"Because," the man began, his voice deep and deliberate.
"I believe that for the sake of your schooling—and your own survival—there are things you must learn to master."
The silver cutlery on the dining table shimmered in the morning light, but the air remained thick with tension.
Instead of looking at his plate, Haru fixed a piercing gaze on the elderly man.
"Who are you, exactly?" Haru asked, his words hanging heavy in the air.
"And why are you helping us this much?"
The man moved toward his chair with a measured, disciplined grace.
A brief, knowing smile touched his lips as he looked at Haru.
"I am a Commander," he replied, his voice filling the room with gravity.
"My name is Silas. You may call me Commander, or Commander Silas."
Silas rested his hand on the edge of the table and turned toward Haru.
"Haru... you can see the souls of others, can't you?"
"You perceive the aura that an ordinary human remains blind to."
"You can recognize the true nature hidden within people. Am I correct?"
A flash of stunned silence crossed Haru's face.
He hadn't expected a stranger to decipher his hidden gift so effortlessly.
Then, Silas's gaze shifted slowly, locking onto Luka.
"And you, little boy..." Silas lowered his voice.
"You look like a perfectly innocent, ordinary child, yet standing near you, I feel a strange tremor."
"Your energy... it doesn't feel human. It feels ancient, like a formidable beast. There is something very deep within you."
Luka tightened his fists, his voice trembling.
"But I... I am nothing like these two. I'm just a normal boy."
Commander Silas let out a slow, cold breath and shook his head.
"Yes, you appear to be an ordinary boy. But you are far more calm and stable than the others."
"You can understand them... your wisdom is your true identity."
Commander Silas was about to continue when Luka's voice cut through the stillness like a serrated blade.
There was a sharp, bitter edge to his tone.
"Is this why you're helping us so much?"
Luka asked, staring directly into Silas's eyes, his fists still clenched tight at his sides.
Silas stood several paces away from the dining table.
His posture as rigid and disciplined as a sword in its sheath.
He hadn't touched the table; he simply stood there, dominating the space with his mere presence.
His hands were clasped firmly behind his back.
"If you choose not to do this, I will have no issue with it," Silas replied.
His voice remarkably calm and measured.
"Stepping into that Academy is entirely your own choice. I am not here to force anyone."
Silas paused, his gaze locking onto Luka's face, searching for something beneath the surface.
"But I can say one thing with absolute certainty," Silas's voice dropped to a deeper, more resonant tone.
"Luka, you are searching for someone, aren't you?"
"That boy whose worry is etched so clearly in your eyes... you will never find him like this."
"Nor will you ever fit into the rhythm of this world without changing who you are."
Luka's face turned to stone, though the slight tremor in his pupils betrayed his shock.
"If you wish to truly belong here—to be 'perfect' for the task ahead—you must join the Academy," Silas continued.
"I sent those uniforms so you could decide for yourself: do you want to remain a helpless seeker, or become someone capable of finding what they lost?"
Silence reclaimed the room once more.
The meal on the table sat untouched, but Silas's words were burning like a wildfire in Luka's mind.
He realized that his innocence was now his greatest liability.
And the only path back to Lane led straight through the gates of Valthorin.