Early morning, before dawn had fully broken, Damian left Seraphina’s house quietly.
Both won were still sleeping. Ariana finally resting peacefully for the first ti since the attack, Seraphina sprawled across her bed in her usual chaotic manner.
He didn’t disturb them.
The campus was completely empty at this hour, the sky above filled with dark, heavy clouds that promised rain. The air felt thick, oppressive, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Damian walked slowly through the deserted pathways, his hands in his pockets, his mind unusually quiet after the violence of the previous night.
His watch buzzed with notifications.
He pulled up the holographic display and saw the Mafia group chat that Edrin had created for communication among mbers.
The ssages were filled with concern about Ariana’s whereabouts.
Edrin: Has anyone seen Ariana? She separated from us yesterday to buy a katana and never ca back.
Ronan: Her watch isn’t responding. Should we go look for her?
Zavier: I’m getting worried. This isn’t like her.
Marcus: Boss, do you know anything?
Damian typed a quick response.
Ariana wanted so personal guidance from Professor Seraphina on her spatial abilities. I arranged for her to stay at the Professor’s house for intensive training. She’s safe. She’ll be back soon.
The replies ca imdiately, relief obvious even through text.
He closed the group chat and opened the Academy forums.
They were still buzzing frantically about his fight with Victor, replaying every mont, analyzing every technique, discussing the implications of a first-year defeating a C rank second-year so decisively.
[Victor Cross hasn’t been seen since the match - sources say he’s still in the dical wing]
[Analysis: Damian’s axe weapon art is unlike anything docunted in Federation records]
[Student Council in turmoil - Elizabeth forcibly overriding Gareth’s authority sets dangerous precedent]
[The Mafia now controls 40% of first-year top rankings after yesterday’s coordinated victories]
Damian scrolled through without really reading, his mind elsewhere.
The garden ca into view as he walked, the sa secluded spot where he’d spoken with Officer Brian what felt like a lifeti ago.
He found a quiet bench beneath an ancient tree and sat down, closing his eyes.
His breathing technique activated automatically, the familiar rhythm of Aura circulation helping to center his scattered thoughts.
The events of the past few days had been intense even by his standards. The forest training, the confrontation with the Student Council, the mass challenges, Victor’s defeat, Ariana’s attack, the brutal retribution in the alley.
It was all blending together in his mind, each event bleeding into the next without clear separation.
He needed this quiet mont to process everything, to find his center again before–
"You co here often when you need to think."
The voice cut through his ditation like a blade.
Damian’s eyes snapped open.
Elizabeth Murdock stood a few ters away, her purple hair stirring in the pre-dawn wind, her violet eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made him imdiately wary.
She was alone.
Just the two of them in the empty garden.
Damian said nothing, his expression carefully neutral as he studied her.
Their current situation was complicated. She’d defended him against Gareth, but she was still Student Council President, still a Noble and still part of the system he was fighting against.
Trust wasn’t sothing he gave easily.
"Have you ever wondered why I’ve always treated you differently from the other council mbers?"
Elizabeth’s voice was quiet and conversational, as if they were discussing sothing mundane instead of having this strange confrontation before sunrise.
"Not particularly."
Damian’s response was curt.
"I assud you had your own goals and agendas like everyone else in this Academy. Whatever they are, they’re your business."
"That’s fair. You have no reason to trust ."
Elizabeth walked closer, stopping a respectful distance away, her gaze shifting to the dark clouds overhead.
"But I need to tell you sothing. Sothing I’ve never told anyone else that’s been weighing on since the day we first t."
Damian’s hand drifted slightly toward where his gun would normally be, an unconscious defensive gesture.
"I’m not interested in cryptic warnings or political gas right now, Elizabeth. If you have sothing to say, say it plainly or leave alone."
"Ever since I awakened my seer skill three years ago, I’ve only seen fragnts of the future. Possible tilines, potential outcos and decisions that would lead to different paths."
Her voice took on a strange quality, distant and focused simultaneously.
"It’s disorienting, living with one foot always in tomorrow. Never quite present in today because I’m too busy seeing what might co next."
She turned to look at him directly.
"But when I first ca into contact with you, when we first spoke when you arrived at the Academy, sothing unprecedented happened."
Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"For the first ti in my life, I didn’t see the future. I saw the past... Your past."
The air between them seed to freeze.
Damian stood up slowly, his entire body tensing.
"I don’t know what you think you saw, but–"
"Alessio D’Rossi."
The na fell from her lips like a stone dropping into still water, the ripples spreading outward to touch everything.
"That would be helpful for you to hear what I’m about to say. Because what I saw wasn’t from this world. It was from sowhere else entirely."
Damian’s footsteps, which had already begun carrying him away from this conversation, stopped abruptly.
His long crimson hair fell forward, covering his face, hiding his expression.
His hand moved instinctively toward his concealed weapon.
When he spoke, his voice was dangerously low, barely above a whisper.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you should leave before you say sothing you’ll regret."
"A planet called Earth with no Aura, no awakened abilities and no Monsters. Just humans living in a world that hadn’t yet discovered the supernatural."
Elizabeth’s voice remained steady despite the obvious threat in Damian’s posture.
"A beggar child born in the slums of a city whose na I couldn’t quite see. Alessio D’Rossi. Who killed his first man at nine years old for a piece of bread when starvation beca too much to bear."
Damian’s entire body had gone completely still.
"Who climbed from absolute nothing to beco the most wanted criminal on an entire planet. Who built an empire from blood and violence and sheer unstoppable will. Who beca known as the Devil of the Underworld before he even turned twenty-five."
She took a step closer, her voice dropping.
"The Mafia Boss who ruled the shadows of an entire world. Until the day he stood on top of a skyscraper and chose to jump rather than be captured."
Silence. A deathly silence erged between them.
The wind picked up, carrying the scent of approaching rain.
"You’re insane."
Damian’s voice was flat, emotionless.
"Whatever you think you saw was wrong. Seer abilities aren’t perfect. Everyone knows that. You saw soone else’s past, so other person, and you’re confusing it with because–"
"The old beggar."
Elizabeth interrupted him.
"The one who read you stories. Who told you about a world with Monsters and portals and awakened abilities. Who stayed with you your entire life in that world, orchestrating everything from the shadows. Who killed your parents when you were young. Who arranged for your brother to be captured and tortured by that psychopath in the alley, ensuring you’d develop the darkness necessary to beco what he needed you to be."
Damian turned around slowly.
His hair still partially obscured his face, but his crimson eyes were visible now, wide with sothing that might have been shock or rage or terror.
"That old man was with you for over fifteen years, Alessio. Guiding you, teaching you and preparing you. He told you everything about this world, about Aura and awakening and the Federation’s structure. It took years to transfer all that knowledge to you. And then one day, when you were twenty, he simply vanished."
Elizabeth’s voice carried absolute certainty.
"You thought he’d died. You held a small ceremony for him, mourning the only person who’d ever understood you. The only one who knew your secrets."
"Stop."
The word ca out harsh, jagged.
"Just stop talking. You don’t know anything about–"
"But doesn’t it feel strange?"
Elizabeth pressed forward relentlessly.
"That you don’t rember most of that? That the old beggar in your mories only appeared once or twice when you were young, reading you a story? That all those years of guidance and teaching and manipulation have been reduced to a single childhood mory of a kind stranger?"
Damian’s hands were trembling now, clenched into fists at his sides.
His mind was racing and spinning, trying to grasp sothing that kept slipping away.
"You don’t rember your parents’ deaths clearly, do you? The details are fuzzy, indistinct. You don’t rember all the years of climbing through the underworld ranks with crystal clarity. You rember outcos and results but not the journey itself."
"Everyone’s mories fade over ti. That’s normal. That’s just how mory works."
But even as he said it, doubt was creeping into his voice.
"And tell this, Alessio."
Elizabeth stepped even closer, close enough that he could see the tears forming in her violet eyes.
"That day on the skyscraper. The day you got the call that the police had finally found you after years of searching. You had resources... You had escape routes. You had contingency plans upon contingency plans. You’d evaded governnts for years."
Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper.
"So why did you just stand there and wait? Why did you choose death when you could have run again? When survival was what you’d always done, no matter the cost?"
Damian opened his mouth to respond.
No words ca out.
Because she was right.
Now that she’d said it, now that the question had been asked directly, he could feel the wrongness of that mory.
He’d been the most wanted criminal on Earth. Paranoid and careful, always three steps ahead.
And yet when the call ca, when his subordinate warned him the police were minutes away, he’d just... stood there.
Calmly finished his al.
Walked to the edge of the roof when police arrived.
And jumped.
Without any fear or hesitation. Without any of the desperate, clawing survival instinct that had defined his entire existence.
"What did you see?"
His voice was hoarse, broken.
"What happened on that roof?"
Elizabeth’s tears finally spilled over, running down her cheeks.
"The final vision... The truth of your death."
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