Tsk Tsk
Damian released her cheeks and clicked his tongue with mock disappointnt.
"Now the girl who secretly fears has learned to talk back. How bold~ How reckless~ Should I be impressed or concerned?"
Lysa turned her head away, rubbing her reddened cheeks, her voice erging quietly despite the defiant gesture.
"Although I fear you and your ways... I know you wouldn’t hurt your own people."
The statent carried absolute certainty despite the fear she admitted to, trust built on months of observation rather than blind faith.
Damian just looked at her, his crimson eyes studying her profile, waiting without pushing further.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by rain and thunder.
Then Lysa sighed, her shoulders dropping, her resistance crumbling as she decided to speak the thoughts that had been weighing on her.
"...When I was a small child, I read stories about the world before the portals opened."
Her voice carried wistful longing, the tone of soone mourning sothing they’d never personally experienced.
"From young age, students in that world would learn about wonderful things – different languages, history, geography, mathematics, cultural studies. They had room to explore interests that had nothing to do with survival."
Damian remained silent, giving her space to continue, his presence supportive through simple proximity.
"They would have things called picnics, school tours, cultural festivals and sports competitions that weren’t about combat training. So many fun things that made their lives colorful and rich."
Her voice beca smaller and more vulnerable.
"They had so many things to look forward to beyond just staying alive. Their greatest worries would be low marks on exams... but even if they failed, they could try again. Or choose different paths. They had room for failure without it aning death."
Thunder rumbled closer, making both of them instinctively tense before forcing themselves to relax.
"...I was so envious when I found out about this world that used to exist. Because I never wanted to be strong. I never wanted power or combat capabilities or any of the things our academies force us to develop."
Her hands clenched into fists.
"I only wanted to have fun with friends. To go see new places without worrying about portals. To experience normal youth and maybe... maybe find love. Real love."
Damian’s face was partially hidden by his dark red hair, rain running down the strands, his expression unreadable.
Lysa’s voice beca harder, bitter with acceptance of reality.
"But unlike those children from before, we’re taught about hostile portals from the mont we can understand language, taught survival skills instead of art, taught killing techniques instead of music... We’re forced by circumstances to beco strong whether we want to or not."
She sat down in the mud, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in a position that made her look even smaller and more vulnerable.
"If we fail to beco strong, if we fail to develop combat capabilities, if we fail to defend ourselves... we die. Unlike those children from the old world, we don’t have any room for failure. Every weakness is a potential death sentence."
Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper.
"I never wanted to see people dying. It makes sad every ti, no matter how many tis I witness it. I never wanted to kill anyone – it makes feel sick and guilty and wrong."
She looked up at the dark sky, rain hitting her face directly.
"I only wanted to find love and experience what it’s like. To understand what those old novels described, what made people willing to risk everything for another person. That’s all I ever wanted."
Damian couldn’t help but rember a previous conversation, Lysa’s quiet admission that she still saw the faces of people she’d killed when she closed her eyes.
The gang mbers from their early Mafia operations.
Every life she’d taken haunting her despite the necessity, despite the reasons, despite everything.
She wasn’t built for this world.
She wasn’t suited for constant violence and death.
Her gentle nature rejected everything that survival in a portal-plagued reality demanded.
And yet here she was, trapped in a hostile portal, having killed hundreds of creatures, having witnessed so many students die screaming.
Lysa noticed Damian had gone silent, lost in his own thoughts, his crimson eyes distant.
"Boss," her voice pulled him back to the present, "do you have any dreams?"
The question was innocent and curious, carrying genuine interest in understanding the person who led them.
Damian blinked, processing the question, then sat down beside her in the mud, his usual controlled posture relaxing slightly.
"No."
The answer was simple, carrying no hesitation.
Lysa looked surprised, her eyes widening.
"Nothing at all?"
Damian’s voice beca quieter and more honest than he usually allowed himself to be.
"None. I don’t have dreams, Lysa. I only have nightmares. And in order to prevent those nightmares from becoming reality, I chase power."
His crimson eyes t hers, showing depth of experience that shouldn’t exist in soone so young.
"You never wanted power and never sought strength for its own sake. Whereas all I’ve ever wanted was power. The ability to control circumstances rather than being controlled by them. The strength to make sure nobody can ever hurt what’s mine again."
Lysa saw sothing flash across Damian’s face – mories perhaps, or traumas from this one that he’d never spoken about.
The gloomy expression made him look older, more tired, like he was carrying weights invisible to everyone else.
Then she asked the question that had been bothering her for months, her voice serious despite the absurdity.
"Boss, are you straight?"
"..."
Damian, who’d been lost in lancholy reflection about power and nightmares and the fundantal differences between their worldviews, was suddenly thrown completely off balance.
"What?"
Lysa leaned in closer, her face completely serious, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"You never show any interest in girls at the academy. Never look at anyone that way. Never flirt or respond to advances. And... I see you only talking secretly with one Noble..."
Her eyes glead with investigative triumph.
"Adrian."
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