Adrian whipped his head around, eyes narrowing.
Standing below, looking straight up at him from the base of the cavern, was a man—young, or maybe middle-aged—but unmistakably similar to the older man from earlier that day. Same voice. Same aura. Just… younger.
His son? No, wait… that voice. That was the same guy who talked to me earlier. So why does he look younger now? Disguise magic? Illusion? Adrian's thoughts raced, pieces swirling without clicking into place.
But he didn't get time to puzzle it out.
"GET HIM, YOU DUMBASSES!" the man roared.
The workers—those empty-eyed, smiling things—froze. Then, all at once, they dropped their tools and bolted toward the stairs like rabid animals.
Shit.
Adrian spun and sprinted back up the narrow spiral staircase, boots pounding against stone. Behind him, the sound of dozens of feet echoed—faster than his, unrelenting.
He risked a glance over his shoulder.
They were gaining. Faces twisted in those lifeless grins. Hollow eyes locked on him.
One lunged, reaching out—fingers just brushing his coat.
Adrian snapped his hand back and slammed it against the wall as he ran, forcing his mana out with pinpoint control. A wall of stone and wood erupted behind him—just in time.
THUD!
They crashed into it in a chaotic mass. Adrian didn't stop to look. He couldn't afford it.
He kept running—heart pounding, breath ragged—until he reached the top of the spiral. The ladder. The two husk-like guards still stood near it, unmoving, eyes locked on the door below.
They didn't even flinch as Adrian rushed past them and climbed, lungs burning.
He pulled himself into the attic, wasting no time. No hesitation.
Straight to the window.
It was still molded to fit him from earlier. He spread his mana thin, reactivating the manipulation—glass and wood yielding to him like water. He slipped through, landing silently on the roof.
From there, a pulse of magic shaped small stone pillars under his feet, launching him across the alley onto a neighboring rooftop.
Only then did he stop.
Breath ragged, heart still hammering, Adrian pulled down the makeshift mask covering his face and finally let himself think.
What the hell is that place?
And more importantly…
What the hell is that man?
"Guess they don't act unless they hear his voice…" Adrian thought, breathing heavily as he crouched on the rooftop, eyes scanning the quiet street below. "Even when they saw me, those two guards didn't move. They just stood there like statues. Maybe they can't tell friend from enemy unless they're told—just follow orders and nothing else."
His thoughts raced, trying to put the pieces together. "But when I got hostile with that man... they charged instantly. So what makes him different? Is he controlling them? Some kind of magic?"
He frowned beneath his mask, frustration bubbling in his chest.
"There isn't any known magic that lets you control people like that—not completely. Not to this extent. At least, not that I know of..." He paused, mind flicking back to the younger man from earlier.
"And that younger version of the old man—was it a disguise? An illusion? Or were they the same person somehow? Too many damn questions."
He sat back against a chimney, rubbing his forehead.
"I need to figure this out. There's something seriously wrong going on down there."
"Ahhh, but it's so much fun!" Adrian yelled, arms raised as he stood atop the roof, the wind tugging at his coat. "God, I love this!"
His heart pounded not just from the chase, but from exhilaration. The mystery. The danger. The twisted thrill of uncovering something dark and forbidden.
"Mysteries, fights—this is living," he muttered to himself, a grin spreading under the black mask still covering part of his face.
Adrian repaired his coat, returning the small section he had used as a mask back into place. The fabric knit itself together seamlessly under the influence of his magic, restoring the coat to a perfect, unbroken piece.
BANG.
The sudden noise startled him. Adrian whipped his head around and looked down from the rooftop. Two of the husks stood below in the alley, their twisted grins as lifeless as ever. Behind them was the younger man from earlier—eyes scanning the rooftops, clearly agitated. After a few tense seconds, the man grumbled something under his breath and retreated back inside.
Adrian didn't wait. He turned and sprinted, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, propelling himself forward with pillars of hardened air or stone beneath his feet—an effortless rhythm of speed and precision. Within twenty minutes, he reached the guild building.
He dropped down from a three-story roof, and just before landing, ran his mana through the stone below. The ground softened slightly under his feet as the matter bent to his will, absorbing the impact and allowing him to land silently.
When he reached the guild's front doors, he found them locked tight.
"Fuck… and I don't even know where Misha lives to tell her this," Adrian muttered. He thought for a moment, chewing his lip.
"Do they keep staff records inside? Maybe there's an address on file…"
Not wasting another second, Adrian stepped forward and placed his hand on the wooden door.
Closing his eyes, he reached out with his mana—not just pouring it into the wood, but threading it through the minute gaps between the wood grain and the metal mechanisms inside the lock. Matter manipulation wasn't brute force. It was finesse. Control. He felt for the pins, the tumblers… and then reshaped them subtly, just enough to click everything into place.
Click.
The door swung open.
"God, I love this magic," he muttered with a smirk and slipped inside.