?????°???°?????

  I knocked on the door twice. Then I said:

  “It’s me, Victor.”

  I didn’t ask if she was okay. I already knew the answer. I just needed to think of something.

  For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, from the other side of the door:

  “You can come in…”

  Her voice was low, tired.

  I opened the door myself and stepped inside. The room was far too cold, even for Cirgo. Serena lay on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, her face turned downward, her hair falling as if it weighed more than it should.

  “I’m sorry… Things are really complicated for you right now, but—”

  “It’s fine. I deserve it.”

  The words hung in the air.

  She had left Cirgo trapped in an eternal winter. It was dangerous. Crops failed, families lost everything because they couldn’t simply leave. None of that was a lie. Saying it wasn’t her fault would be easy… and hollow. Her ability wasn’t something external; it was part of her, a direct expression of who she was inside.

  Serena firmly believed it was punishment. For her mother. For killing her by accident.

  How do you convince someone like that to think differently? And even if you could… would it change anything?

  “Victor…” she said suddenly. “Do you think everyone would be satisfied if I died today?”

  I took a deep breath. The cold in the room felt like it was seeping into my lungs, freezing everything inside, but I answered with the only thing I had at that moment.

  “Some would. But not everyone.”

  She lifted her face slightly.

  “Hm? But if I die, winter will disappear and everyone will be happy, right?”

  “Your father and your brother wouldn’t. They’d be devastated. They care about you so much they asked me—a foreign monster—to look after you and protect you. They would be deeply unhappy without you. I would too.”

  She pulled her knees even tighter against her chest.

  “And about the protests… many are against you, that’s true. But not all of them. In every corner of this kingdom there are people who believe in you. Maybe their lives would be easier if you were gone, but do you really want to leave the people who wish you well carrying that guilt for the rest of their lives?”

  Serena closed her eyes.

  “But it’s not easy… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  For a moment, I wished I knew what my “true self” would do. But all I had was this broken image of who I think I once was.

  So I used that.

  “I know it’s not easy. Continuing isn’t easy, and giving up isn’t either. Both take courage. After all, everyone just wants to live their life, even when they’re at the very bottom. That’s why I respect your desire to give up, but if you truly don’t want to hurt anyone, then you can’t give up.”

  I crouched beside the bed, lowering myself to her eye level.

  “But you also can’t go on like this. Master yourself. Know yourself. Then show them your strength. That way, you won’t hurt anyone anymore… especially yourself.”

  A tear slowly slid down the corner of Serena’s eye.

  It didn’t fall.

  Halfway down, it froze.

  It remained there, clinging to her skin, transformed into a small translucent crystal that caught the room’s faint light.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I watched in silence for a few seconds.

  “You know…” I murmured, trying to ease the weight that had settled between us. “You’re really cold.”

  Serena blinked, surprised.

  For a moment, she looked confused… then the corner of her mouth moved, almost imperceptibly. A faint smile, too small to truly be called a smile.

  “That was a terrible joke…” she said, her voice still low.

  “I know. I’m not very funny when I try,” I replied just as quietly.

  She let out a short sound through her nose. She didn’t laugh, but she didn’t completely close herself off again either. That was enough.

  The silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before. There was still cold, still pain, but something had given way, like pressure finally finding a crack to escape through.

  I felt my shoulders relax without realizing how tense they had been. The tightness in my chest eased, my breathing steadied. Maybe I was still far from knowing how to deal with sad people, but at least… I hadn’t made things worse.

  Without saying anything, I focused on my mana.

  A gentle warmth spread through my fingers as small flames appeared, thin, controlled, floating in the air. I shaped them carefully, remembering when Pumpkin had shown me how to do it. I thought I might manage something a bit artistic.

  Simple lines began to form. A crooked circle. Then something vaguely resembling a cat. Nothing too complex.

  The flames were very weak; I wasn’t using much mana at all. They simply danced.

  I moved my hand slowly, letting the shapes hover in front of her.

  “I trained a lot to do this without setting anything on fire,” I said. “I thought… maybe you could see.”

  Serena remained silent for a few seconds.

  Then her eyes moved, following the heat in the air.

  “I can…” she whispered. “They’re… warm.”

  “So it works, then.”

  I suspected she saw through some kind of thermal vision or something similar. In the end, I was right. I felt genuinely relieved that it had worked.

  She watched as if she were seeing something precious. The tension in her body eased; her knees moved slightly away from her chest, her posture less defensive.

  And in that moment, I knew.

  I hadn’t solved anything or fixed the world.

  But I had managed, at least for now, to help Serena breathe a little easier.

  And that… was already worth it.

  “They’re really cute… how do you make them?”

  “You need to condense your mana and let it flow while you draw what you want. It’s pretty simple. Want to try? I recommend using your index finger.”

  Still lying down, Serena raised a finger and tried to focus.

  We stayed like that for a few minutes until, finally, a small rhombus appeared. It was smaller than the tip of her finger, solid like ice. For a moment, it hovered there and then fell onto the mattress.

  “I did it!”

  “Congratulations.” I clapped once. “Now you just have to learn how to make it float. If that’s possible.”

  “I’ve always tried to suppress the [Ice Rose]…” she said, her voice lower. “I always failed. This was the first time I let it come out like this, without repressing it.”

  She picked up the small construct, running another finger over it as if mapping its shape.

  “Maybe it’s a start,” I said. “How about trying to make a few more?”

  ?????°???°?????

  The cell was narrow and cold. Stone walls reinforced with barriers held the teleporter, Telos. Floating a meter above the ground, he was paralyzed, unable to use his ability.

  He had spent his days refusing to answer any questions.

  He and Honda had traveled together before ending up in this situation. Both had dreamed of adventuring across the world, just like their parents, who had been close friends. Yet both were labeled failures. And while Honda suffered the worst treatment due to his lack of skills, Telos had been born with a skill he himself considered useless.

  His skill, [Spatial Domain], was not a Unique Skill but an Extra Skill, acquired after spending so long wishing to travel anywhere, combined with his experiences as a wanderer alongside Honda, who protected him in fights.

  However, his Extra Skill came with a low classification, which severely limited its use. Unlike a Unique Skill, an Extra Skill could be evolved through effort and practice. But Telos had never had the time.

  Telos’s body began to twist in the air, vomiting blood that splattered across the stone floor.

  It wasn’t a violent spasm, but a slow, heavy one, like his body was trying to reject something rising from within.

  His breathing grew uneven.

  “Ngh…” a low sound escaped his throat.

  The pain came afterward. Not like a wound, but like pressure, as if something extra were filling his insides.

  And then, a memory.

  A male voice, far too calm for what it was saying. Telos had never seen his face—only a shadowy silhouette that spoke in a theatrical tone.

  “You can join us, of course.”

  Blood continued to pour from Telos’s mouth, now in even greater amounts.

  “But I can’t guarantee you’ll come out alive.”

  A purple tissue began to emerge from Telos’s back, from inside his body, wrapping around him like a garment.

  “If you do survive…” the man’s voice carried a hint of irony. “You’ll have many things. Far more than you’ve ever had.”

  Dark veins spread along his neck as the skin of his face seemed to tear apart.

  “Hey! What is that? What’s happening to him?!” one of the guards shouted, stepping back.

  “Hurry, we need to contact the general!”

  Telos opened his mouth to scream, but the sound came out distorted, too deep to be human. His jaw trembled, his teeth grinding as if they were about to shatter.

  On the other side of the corridor, in an identical cell, Honda was suspended the same way. He felt it before he understood it. Heat rising up his spine. A metallic taste filling his mouth.

  Then he spat blood.

  “…So it’s now,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing.

  His body contracted in the air, drawing a sharp crack from the chains that held him suspended.

  Honda struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Something pulsed beneath his skin, visible, as if it were trying to shape itself from within.

  The torches along the corridor flickered.

  The air grew heavy as their bodies began transforming into something inhuman.

  ?????°???°?????