THE FALLEN ONE (TFO)

"Six years ago… that's when it all started," Lucius said, his voice low, almost distant. Across from him, Mercy lit another cigarette, the soft crackle filling the quiet between them.

"Put that out if you want me to keep going," Lucius added, eyes narrowing. There was no hiding the disgust in his tone—he hated the smell. Always had.

Mercy raised an eyebrow, lips twitching like he might cooperate, only to flip Lucius the middle finger instead as he took another drag, amused.

Lucius scowled. Pride clashed with his senses, but he swallowed both. The smoke and the urge to retaliate.

"Like I said… around six years ago, I developed something strange. At first, I could completely erase my mana signature—no circulation, no rotation. Nothing. It's like everything just shut off inside me. And yet… I survived. For as long as I wanted."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"It gives me perfect stealth. No presence. I become… invisible, in the truest sense. But that's not even the whole of it. My sensory abilities—the ones I'm apparently 'infamous' for—they don't depend on my mana flow. I can still track others, feel their presence, and enhance my perception. Even in that state."

"I call it Absolute Zero." He said it with a calm finality.

"Because there's 'absolutely zero' cycles of rotation."

He glanced at Mercy, who had frozen mid-smoke. For a seasoned Lunarknight—a battle-hardened Captain in his thirties—to visibly react was saying something. His eyes had widened, betraying a rare flash of awe.

'An assassin's guild would burn Verdun to the ground to get their hands on this ability,' Mercy thought grimly.

He'd seen it himself, after all. That day, chasing Lucius, his mana had been radiant, almost blinding... until it vanished. Not dimmed. Gone. Like the sun blinking out of the sky midday, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Lucius continued, "Then, four years ago… the second one manifested. The one you felt—when I grabbed you."

"Telekinesis." The word fell from his lips like it wasn't heavy, but it was.

"It lets me influence objects around me, manipulating raw mana like it's an extension of my body. I can touch, lift, crush... at range. It's definitely a manipulation-type ability, but it's not fully linked to my core. Not in the other abilities are."

Mercy exhaled, this time from shock rather than smoke. "You're saying… You don't even fully understand it?"

Lucius gave a slight nod, his fingers curling around the edge of the bench. "I don't. Not yet. I'm still figuring it out. It's like it came from somewhere… else. Somewhere inside me, I've never reached before."

In their world, mana abilities weren't just tools—they were reflections of the self. Extensions of identity. Most people felt the nature of their abilities instinctively, like knowing the sound of your own heartbeat. Even if they lied to the world, they couldn't lie to their core.

Mercy's brow furrowed. "This is the first time I've heard anything like this. You always felt different, but this… It's like the rules don't apply to you. You're not even dependent on mana to survive, and the mana around you still bends in your favour. What kind of twisted, one-sided relationship is that?"

Lucius gave a small, helpless laugh. "If I had the answers, I wouldn't be sitting here trying to explain it like a confused kid with a puzzle box."

Mercy leaned forward now, the air between them heavier. "How many people know about these abilities?"

"Three," Lucius answered. "You, me… and my master. Sia knows about Absolute Zero, but I haven't told her about the Telekinesis."

Just saying it aloud made his skin crawl. The thought of exposure of whispers spreading through the city was enough to make him nauseous. He'd had this conversation before. He knew the stakes.

Mercy nodded, a rare seriousness in his eyes. "Good. Keep it that way. You really don't want every kid in Varis whispering about your godhood... or whatever this is."

His voice dropped as he flicked the cigarette aside at last.

"This world doesn't take kindly to outliers, Lucius. Especially ones that scare the system itself."

Lucius understood it clearly — people always despised change, hated anomalies that forced them to question their beliefs.

If his true nature was ever revealed... the consequences wouldn't just be dire.

They'd be catastrophic.

"Yeah," Lucius said, shifting his posture slightly. "That's why I always preferred working alone, secluded. It's because of this — this-this exact thought you and I now share."

Mercy nodded without a word, his gaze distant.

Lucius could tell — his mind was racing.

Too much on his plate right now.

After a moment, Lucius decided to shift the mood, to take Mercy's mind off it, even if just a little.

"...Those two spells of yours. 'Audacious' and 'Articous'... Weren't they the legendary brothers from the ocean kingdom? The kings who rebelled against the First Emperor Verdun?"

It took Mercy a second longer than usual to register the question, still lost in thought. Then, finally, he answered.

"Yeah. They were."

He leaned back, folding one leg over the other, his armour creaking softly.

"Though they were twins, they ascended the throne as one — the throne of 'Aquatroius.' They ultimately lost the war against Verdun, but... their execution made them legends. Even the Emperor of Verdun, Verdun himself, respected their strength, their choice to die with their people rather than kneel. Among us water mages, their story's a symbol of defiance and pride."

Lucius nodded slowly, memories surfacing — bedtime stories Sia used to tell him, back when the world still seemed a little simpler.

Mercy, still enjoying the cold winds brushing past, adjusted his partially lowered headgear. Standard empire-issued — covering head, face, and neck. A mask worn by knights, both literal and symbolic.

After a few heartbeats, Mercy broke the silence again.

"About your Telekinesis... you once said it's not fully connected to your core?"

He turned his head slightly toward Lucius.

Lucius nodded, his gaze lowering toward his chest.

"Yeah. Not fully. And honestly... I think that's a huge disadvantage." His voice tightened with frustration.

"My core's progressed so much since the day I first discovered this ability — I've broken through layers of mana restrictions, increased my storage, my efficiency... everything."

He exhaled sharply. "And yet my influence over objects, over sentient beings — it's improved... But barely when I compare it with my other progress. I should be able to do so much more by now if it were truly linked to my core."

Mercy listened carefully, not interrupting — just absorbing every word, every crack in Lucius's armour.

Inside, Mercy was fighting old teachings, lessons drilled into him since he was a child.

Trying to piece together the truths that no one had dared to speak aloud.

"And unlike the rest of us," Mercy said eventually, his tone heavier, "you can't just consult an expert or a researcher. Talking to anyone would risk exposing everything — your nature, your secrets, and revealing half the information would be more dangerous to- for you than revealing nothing."

He paused, rubbing his shoulders to fend off the cold before continuing.

"Your unique condition makes everything harder. Navigating storms without a map."

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "But... I don't think your two abilities — Telekinesis and Absolute Zero — are separate. They feel connected. Extensions of the same thing."

Lucius leaned in slightly, sensing where this was going.

"Think about it," Mercy said. "Both abilities aren't fully tied to your core. Telekinesis — partially independent. Absolute Zero — entirely independent. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Lucius's mind raced, connecting dots he hadn't noticed before.

"I believe," Mercy continued, voice dropping slightly, "they're not abilities in the traditional sense. They're manifestations of something much deeper, much older... something unnatural."

He almost said ungodly — Lucius caught the slip immediately.

Lucius stayed silent for a moment, letting the idea settle, before asking the obvious next question:

"So... what am I supposed to do now? I've been training my core endlessly, thinking my abilities would catch up. But it's like I've hit an unbreakable wall."

His voice was low, defeated.

Mercy could feel the weight behind the words.

After a long pause, Mercy finally stood, brushing off the dirt from his armour, his face thoughtful.

"...You fight like a knight," he said simply.

"Your approach to battle, your instincts — they all mirror Knightship. Makes sense. Your mentor was a knight. That's the model you had growing up."

Lucius lifted his head slightly, listening intently.

"But here's the truth," Mercy continued. "You're not a knight. You're something else. Something bigger."

He stepped closer, his voice steady and sure.

"You have skills most knights would dream of. Abilities that mages would kill for. And you're wasting them by following an ideology that doesn't fit you."

Lucius felt a jolt — a crack in the mental framework he'd unknowingly built around himself.

"A knight," Mercy said, "never fights alone. They fight in formations, they rely on others to cover their weaknesses. That's why their style works. You... you'll always be alone."

He said it not cruelly, but as a matter of fact.

"If you don't find your own way of fighting — one that fits your skills, your strengths, you'll keep running into these walls."

Lucius stared at him, the realisation sinking in like a slow tide.

He had been limiting himself. Chasing an image that was never meant for him.

Mercy's voice softened, but not by much.

"Before anything else — remember this. You don't have a mentor. You don't have a roadmap. You're unique. And that's both a blessing and a curse."

He crossed his arms, looking down at Lucius.

"If you don't expand your thinking — if you don't break the box you were stuffed into — you'll either delay your true potential... or kill it altogether."

Lucius clenched his fists subconsciously.

"You've got a twisted brain, Lucius — smart enough, cunning enough, stubborn enough to come up with all this before you were even fully grown," Mercy smirked faintly.

"Train your mind. Research. Study. Experiment.

Train like a mage, not like a knight.

Develop your core, but keep using your abilities. Keep pushing them, warping them, bending them.

I'm sure you'll find what's been missing."

Lucius took a long, slow breath.

This conversation...

He didn't regret it for a second.

Sharing his secrets had been the right call — because the advice he got in return was worth its weight in gold.

Mercy adjusted his armour, storing away his blade into his dimensional space.

Lucius tried to rise, too — but his legs refused. His muscles were worn out from the strain.

Without a word, Mercy stepped forward and extended his hand.

Lucius looked up, meeting his eyes.

No words needed.

Gratitude.

Understanding.

A rare, faint smile tugged at Lucius's lips as he reached up and took the hand.

And for a brief, fleeting second...

He didn't feel so alone.