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... his forearm. Something felt wrong beneath the skin—like something was alive inside, moving.

Without warning, I summoned a thin blade of hardened water and made a shallow cut just above his wrist. Black blood oozed out sluggishly. But it wasn’t just the blood.

A wisp of black smoke curled out from the wound.

My eyes widened.

I leaned in and studied the smoke, my Psynapse stirring in interest. The mist was light but it carried a strange weight, like hunger. I reach ...

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Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

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“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

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