When Azztheo reached his house, he paused at the doorstep.
One side of the wall had collapsed, and broken furniture lay scattered across the floor. Yet, compared to the rest of Willowshade, the place still stood — bruised but not broken.
He stepped inside, quietly cleaning up the remnants debris on the floor. He set a chair upright, pushed aside the cracked table, and cleared the dust from his bed. Finally, he sat down, staring at the floor in silence.
How am I supposed to live without him?
That single thought gnawed at him.
Before he knew it, his exhausted and tired body dragged him into sleep.
---
Knock knock.
Azztheo jolted awake. The morning light spilled in through the broken roof. He rubbed his eyes and shuffled to the door.
Standing outside was Lina, the C-rank Superhuman from yesterday.
"Hey, Azztheo," she said gently. "Sorry to wake you so early, but… I've got some news. You want the good news or the bad news first?"
Azztheo blinked, then nodded faintly. "Bad news first."
Lina's expression softened. "We couldn't find your dad. We searched everywhere, but… there was no trace of him."
The world went still.
Azztheo couldn't speak. His chest tightened. It felt like something had cracked open inside him.
Seeing the look in his eyes, Lina quickly added, "The good news is… the higher-ups from the Superhuman Association saw your situation. Your parents were both once heroes, and in recognition of that, they've granted you early admission into Aetherfall Academy — one of the top academies in the capital."
But Azztheo didn't react. His heart had only one wish — and it wasn't a prestigious academy.
Lina hesitated, then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We're leaving for the capital this afternoon. Meet us at the town gate if you decide to come."
She turned to leave, then paused. "I know this doesn't make things better. But… maybe it's a place to start again."
Azztheo stood silently at the doorway long after she was gone.
Only after several minutes did he wipe his eyes and whisper to himself, "Okay… I'll be there."
Azztheo stepped back inside the house and quietly locked the door behind him. The silence felt heavier now — like the walls themselves knew what he had lost.
With slow movements, he began packing his few belongings into a bag. Each item he touched reminded him of his father. A worn jacket. An old book. The carved wooden box his mother used to store sewing kits.
Then, his eyes landed on the small framed photo that always sat on the bedside table — a picture of his parents smiling together, holding him as a baby.
But now it lay on the floor, the glass cracked.
He bent down and picked it up gently. The frame was broken, but as he lifted the photo, something slipped out from behind it.
A folded letter.
His hands trembled as he unfolded the page. The handwriting was familiar — strong, rough strokes.
"Hey son, If you're reading this, it means I'm gone.
TBut there are things I wanted to tell you… but I never found the right time.
Beside this letter, you'll find a small shard — we found it during that mission with your mother in the demon territory. I don't know what it is, but I know it's important. It felt… different. Dangerous, maybe. Or powerful.
I couldn't unlock its secrets, and maybe that was for the best. But now… it's yours.
Don't do anything with it until you awaken your powers.
And Azztheo… stay strong.When I'm not with you anymore, I need you to keep living.Keep fighting.
With all my love,—Dad"
Azztheo's hands tightened around the page. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks as he read the words over and over, clinging to them like they were the last warmth in a cold world.
Setting the letter down carefully, he looked inside the broken frame — and there it was. A small shard, no bigger than a fingernail, dark and shimmering faintly in the light. It pulsed with a strange energy, something that made the air around it feel heavier.
He turned it over in his palm, trying to make sense of it.
But he couldn't.
Not yet.
So he wrapped it in a cloth and tucked it deep inside his bag, close to the letter.
Then, wiping his tears, he whispered to the empty room, "I'll figure it out, Dad. I promise."
As Azztheo finished packing, he decided to check the small safe his father had kept hidden in the back of the bedroom closet. It hadn't been touched in years — a small, dusty metal box with a fading keypad.
He guessed the passcode on the third try: his own birthday.
Inside, he found his father's old black credit card, a bank ledger, and a bundle of cash — neatly stacked bills amounting to around 15,000.
He flipped through the small ledger and saw a note:"Academy Savings — For Azztheo."
His chest tightened.
The bank account listed below had over 300,000 still inside. Garreth must have been quietly setting it aside all these years, never once mentioning it.
He was saving for my future, Azztheo thought, swallowing the lump rising in his throat.
He placed the card and documents carefully into his bag. Then, with one last glance around the home he had grown up in — the creaking floors, the quiet hum of silence — he walked to the front door.
He paused there.
His hand lingered on the doorknob.
Then, slowly, he stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it.
He stood still for a long moment, staring at the house. The walls were cracked, one side partially collapsed. Furniture inside was broken, scattered — yet it was still home. The place where he laughed with his father. Where they cooked. Where they lived.
Now, it was just a memory frozen in time.
"I'll come back someday," he whispered.
And then he turned away.
As he made his way through the ruins of Willowshade — past wrecked homes, shattered windows, and grieving townspeople — he didn't stop. He kept walking until the town gate appeared before him in the distance.
He didn't know when or if he'd return.
But he knew one thing for sure — this was the beginning of a new path.