"What's with that face? You got a problem?" Ryn threatened, her fist itching for a smack.

  Stellan felt the warning in his loins, flinching involuntarily. "I can't stay here. I have to go back to my house."

  She smiled with ridicule. "Oh yeah, care to tell me where that is?"

  His forehead showed worrying lines. Try as Stellan could, his memories were shattered into fragments. Making him doubt if he had ever lived a life in the past at all. But among the scattered pieces, his mind still retained some of its portion.

  A flickering image, fading itself into existence before it went to a stable form. It was a portrait, a family of five where what seemed to be the father sat in the middle. On his left was the wife who had a formal smile, holding in her arms the youngest of the litter. Two boys with different demeanors were on the father's right, one sat on his lap with a jolly smile, while the other held a stoic expression that did not fit his age.

  "Wha…" Stellan uttered, his thoughts jumbled. "What have you done with my brain?"

  He started to panic. Ryn, not liking the impending outburst, called out to him with a lowered voice. "Your memory's wiped. It's for your own good…"

  "Wiped?"

  "Yeah."

  "W-why?"

  Stellan grew terrified. The fact that the factors that built his identity were erased in a whim frightened him.

  And when your very existence was stripped without your knowledge or consent, it was inevitable that the high wall he built in his life, hurriedly crashed down.

  He balled up immediately, like a lost child that went up against the world. His tears started to swell, making him turn into a pitiful display for all eyes to see.

  Ryn didn't want to let him shame himself even more. It was already a long day and it might affect their already strained relationship if she allowed this to go on. So she slowly approached the panicking man, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder while his fear-filled eyes reddened from the amassing tears. "It's alright. You'll be fine. You can get them back soon, I promise."

  It was a shallow attempt, but an attempt was still made.

  Her words held truth regarding his memories, as long as he proved to the Assosciation and to other governing bodies that he will not pose a threat to the security of the public, then his mind will be reconditioned to adapt back to his usual life.

  Although there was the matter of precaution, since even if he could return back, his life will be strictly monitored until the end of his days.

  However, underneath Stellan's ruined state awoke a slumbering form of agitation.

  Sharply, a faint surge of energy started to flow. Seeping out of his undeveloped mana core in a raging swirl, controlling the vulnerable man's body into a seething frenzy. Escaping through the pores of his skin to an explosion.

  The blast was mild in comparison to an explosive. But the nauseous mana hurriedly replaced the air surrounding it. Choking everyone who was near from the lack of oxygen.

  Ryn was not having any of it whatsoever. She was surprised sure. But she had seen countless cases time and time again from candidates whose bodies could not contain the sudden emergence of mana. The instability stemmed from the lack of proper guidance and the candidate's mental state, a prime example of what would happen was ensuing right in front of her.

  Her eyes showed sympathy. There were no discovered methods yet that would revive a person from 'Mana Deviation.' At most she could spare his life, since after the predicament ended, his mana core would be splintered. Or even worse, crippled due to his body not repairing in time. A case of blockage that even the most skilled surgeons would not venture into lightheartedly.

  So she had to decide. A decision she did not want to choose but had to proceed with nonetheless.

  With one swipe of her palm, the clustering smoke from the rampaging mana parted with her discretion. Showing the rupturing body of Stellan, who was lost from the agony.

  Ryn clicked her tongue. Raising her arm in the air, tensing the muscles and nerves, commanding it to strengthen beyond any means necessary while her mana fed her cells with rushed nutrition.

  I'm sorry.

  She whispered. The words she resented saying over and over. Not failing to appear whenever unnecessary, time and time again.

  Her strike was inevitable. But the moment she prompted to lower her shaking arm down, a voice hollered from behind.

  "Oh Ryyyyyyyyyn?" The playful voice scratched. Making the red haired woman turn back in fear.

  A lofty man emerged. He was tall and well built, a picturesque casanova that made more trouble than what it was worth. His face always had a mischievous smile, both from being too confident for his own good and the routinely swigged flask that held alcohol, making his sobriety appear like a rarity. He always walked around with a charcoal black coat that was half closed with white gold epaulettes. Hiding a white buttoned sleeve underneath, and formal pants that had a customized due to the length of his legs. "What's all the ruckus about?" he asked, one eye closed from disorientation and another opened for ogling.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  He took mental pictures of the red-haired girl with every chance. He was enamored by her figure, her boldness, that fiery demeanor that would deter any kind of unwanted pursuers away.

  But not him. He was always up to the challenge, and now he was–

  "Senior!" Ryn saluted despite the smoking commotion behind her. Her eyes were uneasy and a small trickle of sweat formed at her temple.

  The man seemed to not mind the disturbance from his observing. But the noise was too much, and the increasing number of fainting employees were piling up. So he took responsibility. "Who's the brat?"

  "He's the new recruit sir!" Ryn eagerly answered, ignoring the prickle on her neck from the distorting mana.

  "This crazy fucker right here?" He pointed to Stellan, whose expression was devoid from the turbulent strom.

  Most would be suffocated from the influx of mana. But since candidates all have their own mana cores, it uses the scattering energy and replenishes their own. Repairing if there were any cracks and enriching if there was any lack.

  But the excess was too much. Even for Ryn, who was a Red 3-Star, a grade that could only be achieved by around a century's worth of experience on average.

  Except the man was far beyond a century's experience.

  A slow menacing approach later, and he was now within arm's reach. His eyes observed despite the uncontrollable swirl but found nothing worth complimenting. So he decided to finish the nuisance. "SETTLE DOWN." He swiped, as simple as one would do when they use a piece of cloth to wash a car. His huge palms waded past the instability, dividing the surge forcefully out of sheer strength alone.

  It was enough to calm the mana storm. Dispersing it to nothing with menial effort. "Take him to the sick bay. The kid's core is still intact so he might still be useful," he commanded. Responding with nods from rescuers who were late in their arrival, as well as Ryn who was relieved that the matter was settled.

  However, her problems were still not finished. As another shrill-inducing call reappeared.

  "Ryyyyyyyyyn?" The man tuned in a playful manner. Who knows how many maidens had fallen from this theatric. "I need you to file a report, okay? Make sure everything is there, okay??"

  Ryn, despite her blazing persona, could not help but obey. "Understood Senior Hyland sir!" She fervently saluted. Making Hyland appeased despite the unnecessary trouble.

  Hyland's eye darted towards the unconscious Stellan who was gently being placed on the stretcher. His skin showed tears, nerves blotted and his complexion darkened, the impurities in his body forced their way to the frontline. Making him appear like a withered leaf that would crumble from a strong gust of wind. Despite the fragile state, Hyland still gave an ominous remark, muttering it to himself as if the words weren't meant to be heard. "Seems like things are about to get busy."

  Taking another swig from his flask, burning his throat on the way down. As he waltzed out of the scene.

  Another familiar flash. The lights came through his eyes, blinding him before his vision straightened. He was in what seemed to be a hospital room, except what kind of hospital would cuff their patients to the bed. His left arm was riddled with injections, blood flowing out and unknown substances flowing in. He remembered that he wasn't as pale as what he currently was. But how it came to be didn't matter, his current memories didn't want to be questioned.

  His right arm was strapped onto the bed handle. It was loose on his wrists. He was thinner, thinner than he remembered. But then again, who was he to question.

  It feels chilly. Am I naked again?

  He reflected. Upon looking down, he was wearing familiar clothes, the ones which were given to him from a time he remembered. But the chill was different. A question that would answer itself soon.

  "You're awake," said a voice. It was warm and securing, like a longtime friend.

  Stellan squinted. His eyes moved to where the voice came from. And there he saw the source.

  He wore a black tightfitting suit, the kind people used for daredevil stunts or skydiving. At least that was how Stellan described it. His hair was unkempt and messy, in short, he needed a haircut badly as it frizzled past his ears. He had a joyous mood around him and he was close to Stellan's age. He approached gently, the way a stranger would carefully close the distance with a stray cat. "They told me you were handpicked by sir Viktor. I guess they weren't lying about that."

  "Who a-are you?" Stellan stuttered. It took almost all of his strength to speak.

  "Pietro. I'm your sub-guardian in the meantime while Ms. Stellar handles your paperwork."

  Stellan's forehead scrunched. None of the terms made any sense but somehow they did.

  "No need to bother speaking. I mean… It's a miracle you survived Mana Deviation while you're still just a Gray star," the man resounded. He was chatty and showed no sign of stopping. "I heard you encountered the Homeowner. Holy shit! You gotta tell me how you survived that."

  Homeowner?

  Stellan's mind started to spasm from forcing itself to remember. Making the machinery surveying his condition blare its warnings, startling Pietro before he called for the responders.

  Homeowner? What the fuck is the Homeowner?

  Hom.. Terry?

  Terry? He owes you money too?

  So you decide to put a fucking hole in his head?

  Oh, and the cat? I didn't give two shits about her

  Don't flatter yourself… I've been doing the same shtick since before you were here

  H–How?

  I CAN GO… I CAN FINALLY GO BA–

  Once again Stellan drifted. His eyes faded while the alarming readings continued to be evident. His ears rang, his heart torn, he felt a deep melancholy although he could not place why it was so. He heard fading questions asking Pietro who was nervously responding about what had happened that led to this state. His vision darkened, and so did he.

  Finally ending into oblivion. With the parting of the glass door being the last thing he had heard.