Killian rested his chin on his fist, with his elbow propped against the armrest.
"If you have no idea, what makes you think I am the sire?"
"I'm sorry, Sire."
Endanger said, turning away toward Deimos, and gave him a firm nod.
"I'm sorry, Sire."
Deimos said, approaching Endanger.
[What's going on?]
Without hesitation, Deimos delivered a swift, soft, yet deadly punch to Endanger's chest.
Endanger seemed perfectly fine, but the wind strike blew enough to make Killian shiver.
Killian sat there, his eyes darting in confusion before a sudden pain pierced through his chest.
He instinctively reached for his chest, massaging it softly.
Endanger turned to Killian.
"Forgive us, Sire. For better understanding, it had to be done."
"We are the Pentagon. The Pentagon is a part of you—your pain is our pain, and our pain is yours. This was done at your wish, Sire."
Though the strike seemed soft at a glance, the force behind it would have been an instant kill if Killian had taken it head-on. Yet, the pain he felt was no stronger than a blow from a three-year-old.
The demonstration was enough to confirm Killian's connection to them, but it still left many of his questions unanswered.
"Do you mean I can feel everyone's pain? And why would I put myself in such torture?"
"Your reason for making things this way is unclear. But on the contrary, even a strike from a Pentagon couldn't have left a scratch on you.
"And to be clear, only the Pentagon is truly a part of you. The rest are merely summoned, not created, Sire."
"Really? Then I was strong."
[Oww… I spoke out loud.] He covered his mouth.
Bia giggled. "You are really strong, Sire."
Killian's expression turned serious in an instant.
"How sure are you about this? I mean, it's fun and all, and there've been signs that make all this feel true.
"But I am Killian. The son of Abbie and Jude—though I was abandoned by them, they are my parents.
"All these feel confusing because I am thirteen and I haven't built an army."
They surprisingly smiled.
Lyssa took careful and steady steps toward Killian.
"Ask yourself, Sire. Did you ever feel like your parents were your parents? Were there any similarities in character or features?"
Killian was baffled. He sat there lost in thoughts with his eyes steadily staring at Lyssa, but it somehow sat well with him.
While he thought about it, he realized his parents and him were different in many ways.
He hardly saw them during his two years with them—in fact, he could count the number of times on one hand. We had no hut; all he ever knew was sleeping in the mountains. And the most convincing detail? None of them had white hair.
[I am an outcast like Raiden? My life is a lie?]
Killian instinctively leaned forward. "Who am I? Where are my parents?"
The words hurried out of his mouth, trembling as he rested his hands on the armrest.
Endanger bowed. "Sorry, Sire. That is a question only you have an answer to."
Pain coursed through his head as he pressed his fingers against his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing.
Killian inhaled deeply, steadying himself before exhaling. He leaned back against the throne, his gaze unwavering. "Can you at least tell me what you know?"
Endanger softened his tone. "You are Evolution, Sire. You created us—your formidable disciples—eons ago, to aid you on your journey, conquering the world."
Killian's interest was piqued, his eyes widened, drenched with sparks.
"Did you say to conquer the world?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Indeed. It might be me after all."
"But… Did you say eons? How old am I?"
"Yes, Sire. Though it hasn't been verified, we aren't sure if age applies to you at all, Sire."
"Wait… but I'm dead, right?"
Everything that had happened made Killian forget about his current situation. But the mention of age was enough to remind him of his plight.
"You aren't dead, Sire, not perfectly fine either."
Killian fist pumped with a smile before glancing at his translucent body.
"Wait… why am I translucent, and why am I here?"
"We have less knowledge about that, Sire."
The Evolution Realm—a place where Killian could exist both physically and mentally. It was created to be his ultimate stronghold.
"You are here mentally, Sire—conscious and capable of feelings."
Killian sat upright, glancing at his body.
"Where is my body now?"
Bia hurried her words. "We must hurry, Sire."
In an instant, they were back at the ruined city. He sat upright on the throne where Merikh once sat.
Bia signaled at the spherical ball hovering above.
"Without you at your best, the Revolution Realm isn't the same. The ball began forming thirteen years ago.
"And that was when we began feeling your presence, Sire. Though it's great to have you back, that drains us."
"Drain you?"
"Yes, Sire. We are not as strong as before, and as you can see, most of your soldiers are without form. Most importantly, the time difference between this realm and yours has been tampered with."
"Wait.." Killian shook his head. "I'm kinda confused," he said, scratching the back of my head.
Endanger voiced out. "Since you now live as a demon, the curse inflicted on them is affecting you too, Sire.
"The curse is draining the Revolution Realm to create your devil mana core, and as a result, you are losing your army and your realm."
Killian relaxed on the throne, his elbow propped against the armrest and his finger tapping on his bottom lip.
It was quiet for a while.
"I'm not supposed to have a mana core, the time in here differs from my realm and I must turn into Evolution—or else you will be drained dry, right?"
"Exactly, Sire."
Killian let out a sigh.
"Why would I put myself out there if it will cause this much damage? What happened…why am I a child if I've lived for eons?"
They exchanged glances.
"We don't know, Sire. The only thing we remember is our creation and the few decades that followed. After that, everything blurs out—until thirteen years ago."
Killian rose from the throne the moment he finished speaking, resting his hand on his waist.
"You were right, Endanger. I should have rested before all these."
"Take your time to relax, Sire." Endanger snapped.
In the blink of an eye, Killian's jaw dropped. A bed large enough to fit all his comrades—and still have space to spare.
He hurled himself into it without a second thought.
Bia cleared her throat. Killian turned to her, his face etched with confusion.
"Sire, you are aware that if you stay too long, you might lose in your realm, right?"
Killian scratched his body. "There is nothing to miss," he smirked.
"Okay, Sire." They bowed.
"Call us when you need us, Sire," Endanger said before they disappeared.
[Call you? How?]
He lay calmly on the bed, his face facing the white ceiling.
He tried countless times to relax his senses, but his mind kept wandering.
[What am I?]
He had heard and seen enough to believe he was 'Evolution,' but his mind couldn't fully comprehend that fact.
[Is this what Raiden meant when he asked if I still don't remember? Am I connected to him?]
He wanted an answer—any answer. Even a baseless yet convincing answer would have been enough to ease his mind.
But there was nothing, and the more he sought answers, the more questions arose.
[If I don't have a devil mana core, does that mean I wasn't supposed to have an ink?]
He let out a sigh.
[Am I like Lucid? Am I connected to him?]
He was confused, yet he could feel a lingering sense of happiness. Now, he knew he could get stronger—no, he was stronger.
[If I was able to do this, then I can do it again. I will figure out who or what I am, and grow stronger than I was.]
After a while of thinking, he realized he wouldn't sleep with that stuffed mind of his.
He hurled himself off the bed and snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened. He snapped again, yet nothing.
[Wait… I think there is more to it. Bia didn't snap.]
"Pentagon."
In an instant, the Pentagon stood before him.
"Yes." He fist-pumped.
"Wait… Merikh?" His expression darkened.
Unbeknownst to him, calling out for Pentagon would bring all the five members.
Merikh stood in the middle, gazing intensely at him—his presence so overwhelming it felt like it could melt steel.
The atmosphere was awkwardly quiet until Endanger spoke up.
"You called, Sire."
They all bowed their heads except for Merikh.
That's when it hit Killian. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"If you are all a part of me, then why does Merikh hate me?"
He glanced at their faces.
Deimos extended his hand. "Hate is a huge word, Sire. Merikh doesn't hate y—
"Shut up, Deimos."
His voice, deep and commanding.
[I doubt he would still be here if he hated me.]