Barcello POV

'For three years, I've clung to Lucian's every word. He was our light in the darkness, our anchor in the storm. He was order. But now...no, he will understand.' Barcello's thumb traced the worn silver band on his finger. His black eyes, usually sharp and focused, were lost in the blank expanse of the white tablet before him. The pen lay idle on the table, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy radiating from the numerous article posters plastered across his room.

He rose from his seat and gazed out the glass window, overlooking the gleaming city, a testament to the Flow Society's efforts. Almost perfect, if you could ignore the skeletal remains of the old city, still visible in the distance, and the whispers of those left to the monsters.

Barcello looked over his shoulder and glanced at the cluttered mess of papers on his table. His body moved before he could think, he shoved his papers, spare keys and tablet into his bag, the movement jerky and uncoordinated. He grabbed his coat and bolted from the room, only to come to a halt. His wife stood there, a vision of vibrant life. Her long red hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of fire, her green eyes shimmering with the warmth of summer. She wore her usual casual dress, but it was the metal collar encircling her neck that made his heart clench, a familiar ache twisting in his gut.

"Are you going to look for a story again?" His wife asked as she stepped closer towards him. Her presence always made his heart skip a beat as always.

"Not really, dear. I want to go to the Flow Society headquarters and try my luck, if they look at my research they would have to come to an understanding." Barcello sighed and pressed his forehead against hers.

"You don't need to go that far, I'm really fine." His wife reassured him in a soft voice.

"That collar is killing you, Cassia." Barcello mumbled and cupped her face in his palms. "I don't know why you react so much to the collar but it scares me, they should be other alternatives other than this collar. I mean look at you, how could they put a collar on such a face?"

"It is just safety measures, the doctor said they found nothing wrong." Cassia replied with a smile on her face.

"I don't believe them, I only believe in the gods and my gut. And my gut tells me that you don't need a collar." Barcello inspected her face for any signs of tiredness.

"You worry too much, I told you I'm fine. Now go and be back before dinner." Cassia sighed as she noticed her husband's gaze. She removed his hands from her face, pecked his lips before pushing him out the door.

"If you feel sick, irritated, nauseous or dizzy, you must call me right away!" Barcello said in a haste as he was ushered outside. His body shuddered at the cold air for a brief moment. "And you must make sure you are warm at all times, take your medicine—"

"I will rest and take my medicine if anything changes, now go." Cassia chuckled at her husband's rambling.

"Fine." Barcello hesitated and stared at her for a moment. His heart calmed down at the sight of his smiling wife. He turned around and walked down the hall as he called out "I will miss you."

"I will miss you too." Cassia returned his wave, her gaze lingering on his retreating figure until he was just a speck in the distance. Only then did she turn and go back inside.

He paused before the elevator, the scanner glowing as he approached. A soft chime accompanied the door's smooth opening and he stepped inside, watching it close with a decisive click. He pressed the button to the lowest floor and the ride down was quick and seamless.

Barcello tightened his hold on his bag when the doors of the doors slid open and stepped out of the elevator. He greeted the strangers that passed by and made his way out of the apartment. His strides were fast and urgent as he took a long walk towards the Flow Society headquarters. Thankfully, it wasn't far from where he lived.

He walked towards the double white doors, he made a pause as the golden scanner buzzed before the door opened up for him. He adjusted his dark green hair and coat to look presentable before waving at the secretary. Her dark blue hair was neatly gathered into a tight bun, accentuating the amber warmth of her eyes. She wore the familiar Flow Society uniform: a tailored suit, its lines sharp and professional, accented with intricate gold embroidery. A single golden feather brooch gleamed against the fabric of her left breast pocket. The soft tapping sounds as she moved her fingers on the keyboard while keeping her gaze on the screen.

"How may I help you today, sir?" The receptionist asked with curt professionalism.

"Good afternoon, I want to see Mr Lucian Algernon. I have some issues I would like to discuss."

"Name, age, occupation and magic level." The secretary asked.

"Mr Barcello Ronan, I am 28 years old and um, I work as a journalist and I don't have any level. I am a normal man." Barcello answered with a hint of nervousness.

"You don't have any prior scheduled arrangement with Mr Algernon, you will have to wait because he is a very busy man." The secretary gestured to the waiting room on her left. Barcello felt a small disappointment but decided to comply.

"Thank you." Barcello went to the waiting room and sat down on a nearby chair. There were five other individuals in the room with him but he paid them no mind.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I can do this."he muttered under his breath, a self-motivational mantra as the minutes stretched into hours. He felt the familiar gnaw of boredom as the room emptied, one by one, until he was the last soul remaining. 'Should I just leave? I don't want to be late for dinner.'

"Mr Barcello Ronan, your presence is requested."

He almost jumped at the sound of his name, he didn't even register when the receptionist came in. He got up to his feet and followed the lead of the receptionist. He was led towards another elevator, the ride up was rather unbearably quiet until he reached the very top floor. The receptionist led him out of the elevator and they walked through the hallway. Different men and women greeted them as they passed the halls, clad in a similar white uniform.

They stopped in front of a door and the receptionist gently knocked on the door before she opened it and gestured for him to go inside. Barcello entered the office and the door was closed behind him.The office exuded an air of quiet power. Not a single stray paper marred the polished mahogany desk. A minimalist arrangement of framed degrees and awards hung on the far wall, each perfectly spaced.The room spoke of order, precision, and a mind in complete control.

The man at the window remained motionless, an aura of quiet power radiating from him. When he finally turned, his gaze was like a physical force, pinning Barcello in place. He was tall, impeccably dressed in a white suit, the four golden feather crests a subtle yet potent symbol of his status. His brunette hair was parted with precision, and his blue eyes, sharp and intelligent, held a chilling intensity. His face was a mask, devoid of any emotion that might betray his thoughts.

"Barcello, I presume." Lucian's tone was measured, polite, yet held an undercurrent of command. "Please, have a seat." He moved with an easy grace to his own chair behind the desk, gesturing towards the one opposite.

"Yes, sir." Barcello took a seat and fiddled with the strap of his bag. 'It is hard to believe that he is younger than me.'

"So what do I owe the pleasure?" Lucian asked.

"I...I don't like the collars imposed on beastmen. I know it is to regulate their abilities and prevent them from going berserk but I have seen it hurt them. I tried to figure it out but maybe they are allergic to the crystals used to create them." Barcello hesitated and rubbed the silver band on his finger. His courage returned as he brought out his research papers from his bag.

"Interesting. Go on." Lucian looked at the disorganized mess as Barcello sorted out his papers.

'He is listening to me!' Barcello felt a new surge of courage and continued. "The reason they go berserk is because of danger, right? We already have a safe city even if it's not complete yet, the barriers protect us from the monsters and since there are no monsters. We don't have to worry about beastmen being a threat since there is technically no danger." Barcello presented his research to Lucian as he explained himself.

"You are rather... passionate. A good quality for a journalist but unfortunately, they will turn berserk regardless of the safety implemented, some beastmen forcefully turn berserk as a sick game to get stronger and because of that, I cannot put the lives of the innocents in danger." Lucian skimmed through the papers as he replied.

"Well I agree with you, it would be foolish to let beastmen run unchecked but is it alright to generalize all beast men as dangerous? We have the technology to detect their mana and potential possibilities of them going berserk. Shouldn't those with limited mana get a pass?" Barcello's shoulders slumped as he spoke.

"I don't take risks, as much as I wish to understand you. I cannot forget what they have done to my sister, a naive and innocent soul that didn't deserve such an ending. I won't let anyone else suffer like she did." Lucian spoke in a low tone, an undercurrent of something Barcello couldn't quite place his finger on.

'I was worried his care for his sister might be the cause of this and I was right. But can anyone blame him? To lose your family would cause drastic changes in one's heart? But shouldn't he still keep an open mind? He is hurting the innocent among the guilty.' Barcello thought to himself as he remembered his wife.

"Do you think I am wrong?" Lucian asked. His blue eyes scanning his face.

"Well, not entirely." Barcello mumbled out.

"I apologize for not considering your opinions, it must've been exhausting coming all the way here and especially with your research. But I just can't help but feel wronged, despite all my strength I couldn't protect my little sister....I will take a look into the matter, you should go home and rest." Lucian's gaze seemed to avert for a moment. His lips tugged into a small smile and he looked back at him.

"Ah, right. Thank you so much, sir." Barcello felt a bit relieved that at least Lucian would take a look into it. He got up from his seat and bowed his head slightly. "And sir?"

"Yes?"

"I am sure your sister is proud of you in the Empyrean. Don't let guilt eat you out, you did all you could." Barcello raised his head and smiled back at him.

"...this is a first, thank you so much." Lucian was quiet for a moment. He let out a small chuckle with a an appreciative gaze.

Barcello nodded and left his office. 'I guess the rumors were true. Lucian is easy to talk to, a true beacon of light but underneath all that. He is just a simple man.'

Barcello allowed a small smile to play on his lips as he strode towards the elevator. He waited to be scanned before he entered, he pressed the button for the last floor and the doors slid closed, whisking him downwards. Stepping out, he immediately noticed a group of figures entering the building. They were clad in gleaming white armor, an almost blinding contrast to the muted surroundings. At their head marched a lone figure, clearly their leader. Barcello recognized them instantly: the Heroes, the bedrock of the Flow Society. He noted the ornate crests adorning their armor, each member displayed either three or, more impressively, four golden feathers, signifying their rank.

Barcello was stunned for a moment but snapped out of his thoughts as the heroes went towards another wing of the building. Barcello left the building and immediately headed back home, excited to tell his wife about everything he witnessed.

He finally reached his home and knocked on the door eagerly but heard no response. He waited for a few minutes and rang the bell but nothing. He dug his hand into his bag and brought out a spare key, unlocking the door and rushing inside the house. His black eyes scanned the living room for any sight of Cassia but he found nothing until he reached the kitchen and his unconscious wife on the ground with water splashed everywhere.

He dropped to his knees, a strangled cry escaping his lips. Gently, he scooped her limp body into his arms, his hands trembling as he cradled her close. A wave of panic washed over him as he shook her gently, his gaze falling on the dark, marks encircling her neck beneath the collar.

Barcello placed her down on the couch in the living room. He scrambled back to the kitchen, nearly losing his footing on a small puddle that slicked the floor. He grabbed a cup, filled it with water, and raced back to her side. Kneeling beside her, he splashed the water onto her face, a desperate hope flickering in his chest. But she remained unresponsive.

"My love, please," Barcello pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "Wake up." He pressed his ear to her chest, listening intently. The steady, familiar thump-thump of her heart filled his ears, a comforting rhythm, a tangible sign of life. Relief washed over him, however briefly, quickly followed by a fresh wave of despair as she remained still and unresponsive.