"What are you...? A god?"
The blade hovered inches from my throat, the serrated edge gleaming under the dim light.
Lou's bloodshot eyes flickered between me and Romeo, his grip tight yet trembling.
Despite the weapon aimed at me, Romeo remained frozen—shock written across his face. Yet beneath that, I caught a flicker of something else.
Not fear. Resignation.
As if he'd expected this.
Lou's stance screamed aggression, but the subtle shake in his sword arm, the unsteady hitch in his breath—that wasn't confidence. That was fear.
For a man so eager to put steel to my throat, he looked like he wanted to bolt.
Yeah… I guess my Flow really did suffocate people.
Even high-level Flow users.
I exhaled slowly, lifting my chin ever so slightly. If he wanted a reaction out of me, he wouldn't get one.
"Lou, is it?" My voice was steady, cutting through the tension like a blade of its own.
His scowl deepened, as if startled by my lack of fear.
"May I ask why you're threatening a mere child?"
A harsh laugh tore from his throat, his long, tangled hair shifting like a dark halo.
"A child? Don't insult me, bug." His voice rasped with something between amusement and disbelief. "You may have a small frame, but your aura is anything but 'mere.'"
He tilted his head, his stare like a hunter sizing up prey. He wasn't talking about my physicality.
"That's why Romeo brought you here, isn't it?"
His gaze flicked to Romeo, who still hadn't moved.
Didn't deny it.
A weight settled in my chest.
So it was true.
"You know the truth, don't you, Bug?" Lou's lips curled in something between a sneer and a smirk. "That Flow of yours—it's enough to send even a high-tier Flow beast scurrying with its tail between its legs."
His words hung in the air, a bitter confirmation of what I already feared.
I clenched my jaw.
"So what?" My fingers twitched around the hilt of the Morphblade—a weapon I hadn't even realized I'd drawn. Instinct. Training. Past-life reflexes that never dulled.
Every fiber of my being coiled, ready to strike.
"Does that make pointing a weapon at me reasonable?"
A pulse of tension crackled between us.
Lou's sharp gaze flicked down.
A beat.
Then—he groaned. Loudly.
"Oh, for the love of—alright, alright, you win! Jeez!"
He rolled his eyes so hard I swore I saw his brain, then unceremoniously tossed his sword onto the floor. The metal clattered against the wooden boards, the sound ringing in the charged silence.
His shoulders slumped, and he shot Romeo a deadpan glare.
"You didn't tell me she bites."
Just as I wrestled my simmering rage into submission, a familiar voice sliced through the tension.
Romeo.
Gone was his usual gentle smile, replaced instead with a mock scowl.
"You woke up, at last!" he declared, striding forward with an air of exaggerated exasperation. His hand hovered over Lou's slumped shoulders, a teasing gesture—one that almost looked affectionate.
But the moment was fleeting.
Because in the very next second, Romeo's expression twisted into something fiery, livid—undeniably murderous.
"POINTING A FREAKING SWORD AT MY DEAREST YOUNG LADY?!"
His voice boomed, shaking the very walls of the cramped room.
Then—SLAP.
A resounding blow to Lou's back sent him sprawling like a limp starfish across the sofa.
I barely had time to process what had just happened before Romeo lunged, grabbing Lou by the collar.
"I KNEW you were gonna pull something like this!" he roared, shaking the man with a force that rattled the very furniture. "I told you we were meeting the Young Lady A MONTH AGO! Did that information just EVAPORATE from your thick skull?!"
The sight of Romeo—sweet, doting Romeo—manhandling Lou like a sack of potatoes should've been terrifying.
Instead, it was… bizarrely hilarious.
Lou flailed, his limbs jerking like a rag doll caught in a whirlwind.
"Jeez," he drawled, voice dripping with lazy amusement, "just stop shaking me, will ya? The bug didn't get hurt, and I threw my sword down. So it's all fine now—"
Romeo shook him harder.
A fresh crack echoed as Lou's teeth clattered together. His cocky smirk faltered, replaced by a grimace.
Was it just me, or was Romeo… actually furious?
The grip on Lou's collar tightened, his knuckles whitening.
The way his jaw clenched, the fire burning in his gaze—this wasn't just playful outrage.
It was real.
Were they… really pals?
I couldn't hold back any longer.
Taking a step forward, I tilted my head, studying Romeo with furrowed brows.
"Romeo…" I pocketed my hands, my voice even, yet tinged with curiosity. "Are you usually this… unflappable?"
At my words, Romeo finally let go of Lou, who crumpled onto the floor with a surprised grunt.
Lou groaned, rubbing his sore back like a disgruntled cat that had been swatted off a windowsill. Meanwhile, Romeo straightened, exhaling a breath through his nose. He shot me a strained version of his usual soft chuckle—a little too forced, a little too tight.
"Well," he muttered, running a hand through his buzzed hair, "some people make me a bit... edgy. Lou just happens to be one of them. Don't mind me!"
His gaze flicked toward the man sprawled on the floor—a pointed look that said far more than his words ever did.
Lou, still rubbing his back, let out a mocking snort.
"'Some people,' he says," he muttered under his breath, voice laced with sarcasm as he finally propped himself up on one arm.
Then, without missing a beat, his sharp, tired eyes found mine. Amusement flickered there, lurking beneath the mock-apologetic smirk tugging at his lips.
"Well, I guess I owe you an apology, bug."
I arched an eyebrow, arms crossing over my chest.
"The way you phrased that—and the look on your face—don't exactly scream 'genuine apology,' you know."
Lou huffed, but the edges of his smirk curled up just a fraction more.
Before he could fire back, Romeo swept toward the door, his movements smooth but... tense.
Something had shifted in him.
The playful exasperation from before was gone, replaced by a steely glint in his gaze.
"Breakfast," he announced abruptly, his voice clipped.
Lou, still slumped on the floor, merely waved a lazy hand in the air, dismissing him without a second thought.
Romeo's jaw ticked. For a moment, it almost seemed like he wanted to say something else—but he didn't.
Instead, he turned to me, his signature smile returning.
"Young Lady," he began, his tone light yet oddly formal, "if it wouldn't be too much trouble, perhaps you could get to know Lou a bit better? I'm afraid you'll be seeing quite a bit of him from now on."
I blinked at him.
"That sounds like a threat," I wanted to say.
But instead, I simply nodded, my gaze flickering back to Lou—who, even now, looked thoroughly unbothered by the entire ordeal.
The door clicked shut behind Romeo, leaving us in a silence that stretched longer than it should have.
Then—a sigh.
Lou finally heaved himself up, wincing as he stretched his back.
"Well then," he drawled, shaking out his limbs, "looks like I'm stuck with you, huh?"
I narrowed my eyes.
"Funny. I was about to say the same thing."
"Jeez," Lou muttered, waving a hand toward the nearest chair. "Sit. Might as well get comfortable. This is gonna be a long one."
I didn't move.
Instead, I folded my arms across my chest, one brow arching in skeptical amusement.
"I know I'm a mess, but for the record, I'm still his superior," Lou continued, rolling his shoulders. "He ought to show me a little respect!"
Respect? Hah. Even I wasn't particularly inclined to give him that.
"Superior?" I echoed, tilting my head. "From what I've seen so far, respect doesn't seem to be a one-way street around here, does it?"
Lou flinched—just barely—before scowling.
He scratched the back of his head, his gaze drifting somewhere over my shoulder, suddenly very interested in avoiding eye contact.
"Arrogant bug…" he grumbled under his breath, but the usual bite was missing. His bravado cracked just enough to show something else beneath.
With a sigh, he let himself fall back onto the floor, slumping like a ragdoll.
"Jeez… this is really gonna be a long day, huh?" He repeated.
Then, suddenly, he lurched upright.
The shift was so abrupt I almost stepped back.
A grimace twisted his face as he snatched a dark, weathered cloak from a nearby chair and flung it at me—far more aggressively than necessary.
I caught it with ease, blinking at him.
"Ugh. Your Flow, bug," he muttered, like the words physically pained him. His fingers flexed at his sides, as if resisting the urge to shake off a lingering sensation. "It's… a bit much, don't you think? Overbearing, even. This should help tone it down."
I didn't need an explanation.
As a new Flow user, I was no stranger to the effect my presence had on others.
Silently, I settled the oversized cloak over my shoulders, the material uncomfortably heavy with unfamiliar energy. My gaze flicked to Lou, studying the way his shoulders relaxed—just slightly.
His hand twitched toward the discarded sword on the floor… then curled into a white-knuckled fist.
"Alright, alright," he sighed, as if forcing himself to accept something unpleasant. Finally, his tired, bloodshot eyes met mine.
"Lou Haventon," he introduced, his voice losing its usual laziness for something… heavier. "Your uncle's superior. Many others' superior. Not some stuffy professor at Chasles, though."
Then, with a sharp glint in his gaze, he added, "Actually, I'm one of the Seven Sponsors. Consider yourself fortunate to be in the company of someone as important as me."
I stilled.
That title.
Seven Sponsors.
It wasn't just some fancy decoration slapped onto a name—it carried weight. Power. Influence.
Yet… Lou was fidgeting.
His gaze flicked back to the sword.
For a heartbeat, his fingers curled, his body tensing—then, in an erratic motion, he snatched the weapon and flung it down again.
The blade clattered loudly against the floor, the sudden noise jolting me despite myself.
What the hell... I narrowed my eyes.
Was this some kind of bizarre power play? Or was there something else at work here?
His erratic movements, his fluctuating energy—what exactly was wrong with this guy?
Still, there was only one way to respond.
Slowly, I nodded—hesitantly, but surely.
"Lina Lapis," I said, keeping my tone even. "It appears my fate may be placed in your hands. Here's hoping you're up to the challenge."
Silence.
Then…
A twitch of his lips.
A scoff.
Then, in a low grumble—
"…Arrogant bug…"
The irritation was mutual—his erratic behavior had done its fair share of grating on my nerves.
But then, his demeanor shifted.
His eyes latched onto the Morphblade still clutched in my grip, the sharp glint of recognition flickering through his gaze.
"Hey… Bug…" he muttered, hesitance creeping into his usually brash voice. He raised a finger, pointing at the blade. "Why do you have that… thing?"
I blinked, glancing down at the Morphblade. The intricate etchings on the hilt—it was a masterpiece.
I turned it over in my hands, watching the way the dim light glided across its surface.
"Romeo gave it to me on my birthday," I answered simply, looking back at Lou. "Why the sudden interest?"
Lou let out a harsh sigh and slumped onto the floor, rubbing his temples like I'd just given him a headache.
"That thing," he grumbled, still pointing at the hilt like it physically offended him. "Your uncle pushed the Academy to its limits, commissioning one of the greatest artificers to create it. And he just… gives it to a toddler? Unbelievable."
I froze.
Romeo… had done that?
My fingers tightened around the hilt.
The only one of its kind. The greatest artificer in the Academy. For me?
I turned my gaze back to the weapon. The smooth, gleaming surface offered no answers.
Silence stretched between us.
Then Lou sighed again, this time with a strange finality.
"Now I see why he did it."
His voice was so low I almost missed it.
I snapped my head up, confusion clouding my expression.
"What do you mean?" I demanded.
Lou rubbed the back of his neck, his usual gruffness replaced by something… lighter.
"That thing in your hands," he rasped, "it's a Flow guzzler. Takes an insane amount of energy just to function properly. Us regular Flow users? We've got a limited pool. It takes time to refill, so we don't waste it on fancy shapeshifting weapons. Got it?"
I gripped the Morphblade tighter.
Romeo knew that. He had to.
Then… why go through all the trouble?
Why invest in something only I would be able to use?
Lou eyed me, and for the first time, I caught a flicker of reluctant admiration in his gaze.
"You, however," he continued, straightening up and retrieving his sword, "you're a different story. If your Flow really is limitless, then having the Morphblade…"
He trailed off, shaking his head.
Then, with a short, dry chuckle, he finished, "Well, that'll be a sight to behold."
His grip on his sword tightened.
"Let me tell you something, Bug. Romeo pulled some serious strings to get that thing built. The one and only Morphblade in existence."
He glanced at me, his smirk softer than usual.
"You owe him a big thank you."
He tossed his sword to the ground again, but this time, the clatter barely registered.
My thoughts swirled with a newfound appreciation for Romeo.
He did all that… for me?
To go through all that trouble—to risk potential embarrassment—just to get me something so powerful, something so perfectly suited to me…
A small, genuine smile tugged at my lips.
Yeah.
I really ought to thank the dude properly.
…
BOOM.
A thunderous crash shattered the thoughtful silence.
The door flew open, slamming against the wall with enough force to rattle the room.
In the doorway stood a breathless Romeo, his face flushed with exertion. His wild expression made him look like he'd sprinted through a battlefield—except the battlefield in question was apparently the kitchen.
I shot up from my chair, startled by the abrupt shift in atmosphere.
Lou, on the other hand?
He remained unfazed, sprawled out in his seat with the ease of someone who had seen this exact scenario play out before.
I swear, these two…
Romeo was a certified door-slammer, while that thing known as Lou was just… Lou.
"I scoured the entire place!" Romeo bellowed, slamming the door shut behind him as if to trap the frustration inside. "And all I found were potential stomach aches! That's NOT what you said, Lou!"
Lou merely shrugged, scratching his ear lazily.
"Jeez, relax, Romeo. Food? I don't even remember mentioning food."
"Then why didn't you say something when I was looking?!"
"You never asked."
A smirk. A single, infuriating smirk that made Romeo bristle with barely contained outrage.
The air crackled with their chaotic energy, a sharp contrast to the calm, orderly world I had known before.
It was… lively.
No, wait—was lively even the right word?
These two, who had apparently been entrusted with my well-being, could barely take care of themselves.
Shame on them for leaving a six-year-old questioning their maturity.
But beneath their antics, a glimmer of something more intriguing emerged.
Their connection to the Flow world was undeniable.
Could I use them—no, work with them—to uncover the truth?
Perhaps if I dug deeper into Flow itself, I could find a key to my past life.
Could they help me unravel the assassination of Ash Wyvern?
After all, they spoke the same Glorian tongue. That alone hinted at something far more significant.
More than anything, I craved answers.
Who orchestrated my death?
Who cursed me?
The Academy. The Seven Sponsors. The intricate web of power behind Flow itself.
I had a feeling all roads led to the same truth.
And if that truth was out there…
Then I would find it.
A grand adventure, indeed.
And who was I to say no?