"Hkk—aaagh!"
Pain was immediate.
The pressure built, unbearable, nerves screaming as he dug deeper.
Then, with a sharp, twisting pull, he clawed out the bulbus oculi, his left eyeball. Blood gushed down his face, pooling at the corner of his lips before spilling off his chin in thick, red streaks.
His vision blurred, as his remaining eye swam with tears that burned against the open wound.
Even the word 'excruciating' was an understatement if it could be compared to the feeling he could feel while doing it.
But then again, he did not stop.
His fingers dug deeper, muscles trembling, nails scraping against bone as he yanked.
With a soft popping sound, the eye hung loosely, swaying from the last few strands of tissue still clinging to his skull.
Then, with a final pull, he tore it free.
Pop.
The change was instant.
The orb writhed like something alive, sinking into the torn flesh and burrowed deeper with an unnatural hunger. It did not simply replace what had been lost; it claimed the space as though it had always belonged there as though it was waiting.
Waiting for him.
At first, the orb was freezing cold like shards of ice stabbing through his skull, piercing straight into his brain.
His body rejected it.
His nerves screamed.
He clawed at the ground, his nails scraping against dirt and stone, but the pain did not stop.
Then the cold began to change.
It melted.
No, it burned.
A searing heat surged through him, spreading from his eye socket to the rest of his body. It was as if his blood had turned to molten metal, scorching its way through his veins, igniting every nerve it touched.
His fingers dug into his own skin, dirt clinging to his face as he struggled to hold himself together.
And then, finally, it stopped.
The orb settled.
The pain faded.
His body, once on the verge of breaking, accepted it.
Hff...
His screams had turned to gasps as his left eye snapped open.
A slick, fibrous snap followed.
The severed nerves dangled like frayed tendons as they curled limply against his cheek.
He then shoved the rough, pulsing orb into the gaping hole.
"Ah—ghh—haaaah!"
The change was instant.
The orb was gone.
Or rather, it had become one with him.
But his appearance showed no difference.
From the outside, it was still Seven Hart's gray-blue eye, ordinary in every way. At least, none until his vision adjusted and a golden glow spread across the left iris.
And suddenly, the world was not the same.
Colors bled into one another, warping and twisting like an oil painting come to life.
He could see the trajectories of which direction the birds above him flew even before it took off, where the leaves of the dungeon grass would sway, and where direction he himself would go.
A second-long foresight.
Blood still dripped down his cheek, but the pain was distant as he just wiped his face and turned around.
|| Protagonist System Activated ||
Seojin exhaled.
|| You have obtained Præscientia ||
|| You have been rewarded 7777 Narrative Points ||
"I did it…"
Howl.
A wolf howl echoed through the air. It sounded near, thus he looked behind and a wolf pup met his eyes.
A puppy, if it was a dog.
Without hesitation, he swung his hand and hurled his extracted left eye ball into the distance in which the wolf pup immediately perked up then ran to chase it.
Hff…
"Ehehe."
Then as if nothing happened like he did not experience a gruesome pain just a second ago, he giggled and looked towards the sky.
"It's mine no— Nnnnngh!"
Pain in his left eye shot through his skull like a thousand needles. His vision blurred, and the world spun violently as the pressure in his head built to an unbearable peak.
His body trembled.
Before he could scream, the darkness consumed and dragged him under into unconsciousness.
Hff…
But he fought to remain conscious.
In the first place, it would be a bad idea to fall asleep now given that there was barely enough time left before his pre-written date.
|| Remaining Time: 1 Minute and 2 Seconds ||
Yet, instead of panicking, he sat in a meditative posture and closed his eyes so that the one-second future vision would not make tire out his already exhausted mind and body
***
Main Territory of Hart Duchy
It was a grand hall, wherein a massive obsidian throne adorned with designed sword carvings stood at the far end center.
Seated on it was a man with platinum medium-long hair and a pair of blue eyes.
The Archduke, Adrian Ethan Cade Hart.
Though past fifty, time had barely touched him as he looked no older than thirty.
"How is the youngest?"
His voice echoed in that very grand hall.
Before him was a kneeling figure who wore a half-faced wolf mask.
"The youngest has changed again, Archduke. He abandoned his scoundrel ways and now plays the altruist."
Silence followed.
Tap. Tap.
The Archduke tapped his fingers against the throne's armrest.
"Altruist?"
"Yes, Archduke. He speaks kindly, helps servants without complaint, and conducts himself with unnatural patience."
The Archduke exhaled through his nose.
"That is not in his nature."
"Precisely, Archduke. It is unnatural. That is why I came to report."
"Anything else?"
"He has not left his chambers for seven days."
The Archduke's gaze turned serious.
"And you are certain he remains inside?"
"Yes, Archduke. I stationed eyes around his quarters. The door has not opened once."
Another stretch of silence.
Then, slowly, the Archduke Ethan leaned forward.
"Continue your surveillance. Do not act unless I command it. If his actions warrant suspicion of engaging with dark magic—"
His voice turned cold.
"—eliminate him."
The masked figure bowed.
"Understood, Archduke."
The masked figure disappeared.
Tappp. Ttapp. tttaAp.
Now alone, Archduke Ethan's fingers drummed against the armrest even faster and harder than earlier.
His seventh and youngest child, Seven Hart.
He had been sent to a mansion at the farthest edge of the continent. Not just any mansion, but the first Hart Family Mansion, a place abandoned for nearly six centuries.
Now, it served a new purpose as a probationary ground for disgraced Hart descendants before their exile.
A final chance to reflect.
The current and the main territory lay seventeen kilometers from the old mansion where Seven Hart was, and one hundred twenty five kilometers from Othrelis Kingdom.
Beyond it, to the west, stood the Havin Territory, home to the continent's strongest mage family.
"Elysian…"
Archduke Ethan whispered to no one.
Slowly, as if restraining himself, he rose from his throne. His steps were deliberate as he approached the nearby window and stared beyond the horizon.
"Both your children… are changing..."
He paused and curled his fingers against the windowsill.
"...And I am not certain if that is a good thing or not."