An hour later, August arrived at a decaying five-storey building he had found during his scan of the area. The structure was visibly abandoned, with no evident constant supply of electricity and signs of long-term neglect. He activated his Soul Scan and methodically swept the interior. The results were negative—no detectable corrupted presence.
Descending the staircase, he abruptly stopped as a voice echoed from above.
"...Hello, would you like a drink?"
His entire body tensed. A sharp, instinctive chill travelled down his spine—the same sensation he associated with the presence of corruption. He turned his head towards the stairwell. The overhead lights had switched off without warning, plunging the upper floors into darkness.
'Another experience?'
August summoned his Soul Dagger by thought. It materialised instantaneously, solidifying in his palm.
He rushed back up the stairs, moving quickly but without recklessness. He was in a heightened state of sensory awareness. Reaching the first floor, he stopped. The voice had gone silent. A heavy gust of wind burst through the windows, now wide open. The darkness suddenly intensified, blinding him from seeing anything. Despite his enhanced vision as an Exalted, he was still considered useless at this point.
Unsurprisingly, darkness was once again overpowering the light, as usual since the arrival of corruption.
'This city has produced nothing but anomalies since my arrival. I'm not even at the Age of Maturity, and I'm already being targeted by corruption on this scale. Statistically anomalous,' he thought, scanning what little he could perceive.
The Age of Maturity signified the first formal advancement of an Exalted into the next rank. August was three Renders short of reaching it. He recognised this particular pattern of unnatural phenomena. His father had experienced something similar prior to his collapse. The resemblance was too strong to be dismissed as coincidence.
His suspicions began to consolidate into a working theory. Something, or someone, was accelerating his evolution—or at least attempting to provoke it prematurely.
He exhaled through his nose, kept his breath steady, and shifted into analysis mode.
August applied advanced spatial reasoning to assess his surroundings. He listened for airflow discrepancies, measured sound reflection across surfaces, and estimated distances using footstep acoustics.
Knowledge had its parameters, and he consistently worked with discipline to excel in whatever he was tasked with, overcoming adversity and claiming his place on that throne of thorns. This resilience was one of the few qualities that earned him admiration from select members of the Eirson Clan. Not once had the idea of giving up crossed his mind, even in the face of trials that would have driven others to the brink. He confronted every challenge directly, just as he was about to now.
By lightly stepping around the edges of the room, he picked up on subtle shifts in temperature and airflow—specifically to the left. Based on the architectural style of buildings in this part of the city, windows were typically placed at consistent intervals. He confirmed a breeze hitting the left side of his face at a downward angle. That wind source had to be the exit.
He reached out cautiously, touched the window frame, then used controlled force to unseal the latch and push the window open further.
He vaulted through it without hesitation.
While airborne, he analysed descent speed, adjusted his torso to a lower centre of gravity, and aligned his limbs for impact distribution. As he fell, he identified a pipe running vertically down the wall. He grabbed it momentarily to reduce velocity, then let go at the appropriate moment to avoid friction burns or instability.
He landed in a crouched roll on the concrete, absorbing the kinetic force evenly across his body. Upon standing, he ran a quick self-assessment. His vision, coordination, and balance were all intact.
August glanced back at the building and let out a faint smile. 'Strange how places like this aren't teeming with Corrupted Souls. Feels like sin is in short supply around here. Not ideal for me.'
Without hesitation, he turned and began making his way back to the mansion on the outskirts. Within minutes, he arrived and immediately noticed Carla and Young seated casually on the grass, having set up a picnic. Oddly enough, it was night-time. Each sip Young took from his cup seemed to deepen his regret. The tea was absolutely dreadful, but he continued drinking just to match Carla's composed facade. In truth, she was barely tolerating it. Neither of them noticed August's arrival.
He took a few steps forward, observed the scene, then spoke in a low, deep, cold voice.
"I'm back."
They both flinched slightly at the suddenness of his voice, though they made no visible display of surprise. Their eyes shifted to his face, then quickly back to their cups.
Young replied in a monotone, "Didn't notice you come in... any luck?"
August held his gaze for a moment, then exhaled quietly and gave a simple wave of his hand, indicating a clear no, before heading into the mansion.
Carla called out after him. "Hey, you emotionally void brat. Don't you want to join our little picnic? It's quite relaxing."
He stopped walking and tilted his head slightly to the side, just enough for them to catch the cold glint in his eyes.
"Relaxing from what? We haven't even faced anything significant yet. We're just stagnant here, barely running into anything worth fighting. Instead of wasting time on this, we should be training."
Carla scoffed as he disappeared into the mansion. "Tsk. Tsk. Rude little brat. Because of that, we're going to the market tomorrow."
Young looked up in disbelief and nearly choked on the tea he was about to swallow. "What did you just say?"
She confirmed his reaction with a nod, then turned her gaze to the sky. Her tone shifted to something calmer, but more serious.
"We can't keep sitting around doing nothing. This split-schedule strategy isn't working. We need a better method to locate and hunt down Corrupted Souls."
Young, rolling his eyes, muttered, "Which was your idea in the first place."
"I know, I know."
He leaned back and spoke again as a cold breeze passed between them. His voice dropped, becoming low and almost malicious.
"I've found a method to help us locate areas where corrupted souls appear. I suspect the damn clan that brought us here has been deliberately hiding those spots from us. I don't know why, but my gut is never wrong. We're nothing more than sitting ducks, placed here to buy time—just as August previously reasoned."
Carla immediately turned her full attention to him, leaning forward with focus.
"Funny. But buying time for what exactly? Never mind that. The real question is, how do we uncover those hidden areas you're talking about?"
Young grinned broadly, ear to ear, then took another sip of the tea—promptly pulling a disgusted expression.
'Blank taste. What a rip-off.'