As the two odd characters looked at each other, Klaus decided to set his brush and palette of various colors aside, hopping off the stool so that he could greet the young guest.

"So, I see you got-...oh my…it seems we've got in Imprinted on our hands." Now taking a close look at Damian's odd appearance, Klaus smirked as he observed the boy's marked figure..

"Oh you know, it's no big deal…I only sorta became an Imprinted after nearly losing my life to a lunatic that controls fire after all…" Damian began to spill his entire situation to the man—aware that there wasn't any way for Klaus to understand in the first place.

"..."

The two stood in silence. At the moment, Damian had grown mildly entertained at the old man as this was the first time he had ever seen Klaus with such an absurd expression.

"...Haha…pretty crazy isn't it?…" Damian spoke attempting to get away from the awkward silence yet failing miserably in the process.

"To think I'd get to talk to an Imprinted again-oh the glory! Ya' know I've met a lot of Imprinted in my day. Ha, there was uh…something about em' either being dangerous or helpful. Like when you can either blow someone up or grow em' a second limb-if only I knew in the first place back in the good ol' days where…I think I was…" Klaus continued to ramble with clouded eyes.

'...So Imprinted can develop helpful and dangerous abilities? He could just be speaking nonsense, but if it's true does he mean something like having supportive abilities and offensive abilities? If so, this information definitely helps.' Damian stood speechless as he tried to comprehend any of what the old man had just said.

"Just…let me take this nonsensical statement of yours one step at a time, so we're hopefully somehow both on the same page for this." Closing his eyes, Damian spoke in an intrigued tone.

— —

After a long series of questions and answers, Damian barely gathered enough 'coherent' information out of him to deduce that what he initially thought seemed to be the case.

'Although, this still doesn't explain the fact that I got transported outside the city.'

"Well…what exactly did I do..?" Damian asked with a dubious expression.

For a brief moment, Damian sat on the question, wondering to himself.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Hey is there anything you ca-

Interrupting his next question, Klaus yanked the boy's thin arm to examine his runes in light excitement:

"To be able to solve puzzles like these has always been a joy! I can't miss the opportunity to decipher what it says, boy please don't move too much while I try to piece it all together."

"Right..." Damian stood, stupified by the ridiculous response.

Coughing slightly, Damian stood before slowly noticing something strange about his words.

The old man sighed.

"Hey, what exactly are you talking about when you say piece it together? I can read my runes just fine." Damian innocently explained.

Suddenly, the old man's crazy demeanor shifted to that of stern seriousness—the two stood in silence.

"...Excuse me?"

Utterly shocked at Klaus's bizarre change in personality, he continued:

"I can read the runes without a problem. Although it seriously hurt, I can read it just fine. You see these runes here? It says-

"Alright, that's enough! Be quiet!" Klaus interrupted Damian in an angered voice.

The old man stood before Damian with a look of solemn and grave urgency.

"Don't share this with anyone. Don't tell anyone how you got your runes or anything about this ability."

Damian stood, severely put off by Klaus' change in tone. It took him completely by surprise as he'd never seen the old man angry before. He'd especially never heard this man properly finish a sentence either.

"...Ok, I understand. Can I ask why?" Damian replied confused and unsettled.

Klaus sternly shook his head.

"No. Learn about it on your own."

Pausing, he then squinted; closely observing Damian's face—Klaus then continued:

"And wear some colored eye contacts while you're at it."

"What the hell are you talking about? What are contacts?" Damian asked.

"Just do it when you can, but for now let me get you something," Klaus spoke, walking toward an old cabinet posted nearby.

Rummaging through the many drawers, he eventually stopped and then pulled out some strange small object. He then headed over to Damian, placing the small miscellaneous item in his hand. It was a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses.

"Wear these and try not to take them off until you get yourself some contacts."

Holding the sunglasses, Damian asked in confusion:

"Hold on a second, what's wrong with my eyes?"

"Augh somethin' bout…nevermind I can't remember but you Imprinted do know your stuff so." Klaus answered, slowly regaining his usual atmosphere.

Giving up on the old man, Damian chose to blindly agree with his cryptic demands.

"This is all well and great, but what am I supposed to do now?" Damian spoke, unsure of what needed to be done.

Klaus nodded at the question.

"Get out of my house. Take the train and head to one of the City Halls scattered deeper into the city and take the Imprinted Questionnaire. Now…oh I need to get back to my painting!"

Damian scrunched his brow at the brief statement.

"How am I supposed to board the train? I don't have any money!"

"Don't have any money? You're an Imprinted for crying out loud! Just walk in, what are they gonna do, stop you? Haha, that writing on your arms and glow in your eyes is more than enough to prove your greatness! God, did I run outta blue paint-this can't be possible!" Klaus stated aloud.

Realizing how silly his question seemed, he scrunched his brow as he groaned.

"Haah…when you put it like that, it definitely makes a lot more sense. Before I go though, what in God's name are eye contacts?"

"...And hold on a second, did you say my eyes are glowing?!"