Beware of Oblivion

For the next hour, they talked about literature. At first, the conversation revolved around academic texts and classic novels, but eventually they veered into books about Espers. For Elijah, this was unfamiliar yet refreshing—he'd never openly discussed such a topic with anyone, not even Oliver.

Visconti, for his part, seemed surprisingly engaged. Despite his sharp and confident demeanor, he revealed that he rarely spoke to others, preferring to keep to himself. 

"You've read 'Nexus' and the 'Nature of Mana'?" Visconti asked, clearly impressed. After all, 'Nexus' and 'Nature of Mana' isn't a well-known theory about Espers. 

"Yeah," Elijah said, nodding. "It's one of the few books that made me feel like I wasn't cursed for being an Esper."

"I get that," Visconti replied, his expression softening. 

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the elevator doors opening. Elijah and Visconti turned to see their third roommate step onto the floor. 

The newcomer was striking. His bright red hair blazed like fire, contrasting sharply with his orange eyes. He wore a dangling moon-shaped earring in his left ear, which swayed as he walked. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, but there was an unmistakable edge to him. 

Elijah's first impression was immediate: "Troublemaker."

The red-haired man gave the two of them a wide grin, leaning casually against the wall. "Looks like I'm late to the party. Sorry to keep you waiting."

Visconti raised an eyebrow. "Took you long enough. You figured it out, right?"

The man shrugged. "Sure did. Eventually."

Elijah and Visconti exchanged a glance. 

"Well, since we're all going to be stuck together, let's get introductions out of the way," the man continued, straightening up. "I'm Kieran. Kieran Vale. Nice to meet you."

Visconti stood and crossed his arms. "Visconti Zenon. One of Illias Zenon's son. Visconti Zenon from the Zenon family."

Elijah was speechless. Kieran was speechless.

"We only asked for your name, not your whole family ancestors," Kieran said.

Elijah knew why he was being arrogant.

He finally understood why Visconti exuded such an air of self-assurance—it wasn't mere arrogance; it was a legacy. 

The Zenon family.

The name alone carried weight, a legacy rooted in the ancient bloodlines of Espers. Out of the billions of people in the world, only 17 families could trace their lineage back to the original bloodlines of Espers, and the Zenons were one of them. To most, their name was synonymous with power, prestige, and unshakable pride. 

The Zenons had a reputation for producing high-tier Espers, with many reaching Level 11, the next highest rank of Esper power. They were known for their mastery of elemental abilities—electricity, water, and ice were their signatures. 

Beyond their raw power, they had a martial tradition unmatched by most families. The Zenons specialized in weapons that complemented their abilities: spears that crackled with electricity, bows that shot ice-imbued arrows. Tales of Zenon warriors turning battlefields into frozen wastelands or electrified death traps were legendary. 

Elijah felt a pang of inadequacy. Compared to the lineage Visconti came from, his own family's history was... complicated. The Collins, his family, were famous, yes, but for all the wrong reasons. They weren't celebrated for their power but feared. 

'Of course he's confident,' Elijah thought to himself. 'When you come from a family like that, it's second nature.'

Visconti's aura was like saying, I'm Zenon. That's all you need to know.

"Elijah Blackwood," Elijah added, remaining seated. 

Kieran's grin widened as he surveyed the two of them. "This is gonna be fun."

Elijah had his doubts.

"Why don't we all play a game?" Kieran had suggested, his grin mischievous. "After all, we'll be stuck together from now on. I heard playing games is the best way to bond."

Visconti and Elijah, though reluctant, nodded. 

An hour later, chaos reigned. 

'This is going to be fun, my ass,' Elijah thought, massaging his temples as Kieran and Visconti bickered like children. 

It had started with Uno, where Visconti accused Kieran of cheating after a suspicious series of Draw Four cards. Kieran vehemently denied it, his voice rising with every retort. 

Next came Jenga, which was even worse. Every time it was Visconti's turn to pull a piece, Kieran would shout things like, "Careful! It's going to fall!" or "Don't mess up!" Visconti's hands trembled with frustration as he tried to stabilize the tower, but the moment he placed the block on top, it collapsed. 

Kieran burst into laughter, pounding the table. 

Visconti's competitive nature took over, and he grabbed Kieran by the collar. "You think this is funny?"

Kieran frowned, his orange eyes blazing. "You better let go, or else—"

"Else what?" Visconti pushed. 

The argument spiraled into yet another shouting match, leaving Elijah to sit back and observe. 

From these antics, Elijah learned a lot about his teammates: Kieran was hot-headed and impulsive, quick to act without thinking. Meanwhile, Visconti was arrogant and fiercely competitive, his pride seemingly unshakable. 

Eventually, the three of them grew tired of games and bickering, their stomachs rumbling. 

"What do you want to eat?" Elijah asked, hoping to divert their attention. 

"Ohhh, are you going to cook for us?" Visconti asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I want beef!" Kieran exclaimed enthusiastically. 

Elijah sighed. Cooking beef sounded like a hassle. "Why don't we eat at the cafeteria?"

The suggestion was quickly agreed upon, and the trio left their building.

On their way, Kieran gazed around like a child in a theme park. The large fountain they passed was the size of a small river, its water glittering under the artificial lights. 

"This place is really big," Kieran muttered in awe. 

"Is it?" Visconti replied flatly, as if unimpressed. His nonchalance made sense—coming from the Zenon family, one of the "top three wealthiest families" among the 17 ancient Esper bloodlines, he had probably seen grander estates. 

The cafeteria itself was massive, with rows of food counters offering dishes ranging from roasted meats to fresh seafood. The trio lined up to get their meals, each tray filling up with different choices. 

Visconti chose lobster ravioli and shrimp, paired with a glass of pineapple juice. Elijah kept it simple with bone broth soup, shrimp, and apple juice. 

Kieran, on the other hand, piled his tray high with a beef steak, crab, lobster ravioli, shrimp, and bone broth soup, his appetite insatiable. 

The lady serving the food wasn't scared. It was common knowledge that Espers consumed more food than regular people due to their mana expenditure. 

As they sat down, Kieran attacked his food like a starving animal, shoveling it into his mouth at an alarming pace. 

"Slow down, will you? The food isn't going anywhere," Visconti said, looking at Kieran in disgust. 

"Shush uf," Kieran mumbled through a mouthful of steak. 

Visconti's face twisted in horror. "What did you just say?"

Elijah ate quietly, watching the spectacle unfold. The contrast between them was striking—Kieran devouring his meal like a wild beast, Visconti eating with the poise of a nobleman, each movement precise and elegant. Together, they were an odd sight. 

The mood shifted when an officer entered the cafeteria. Elijah recognized him immediately—it was Allan, the same officer who had tested him during the Esper evaluation. 

Kieran, who had been arguing with Visconti moments before, froze. His orange eyes darkened as he stared at Allan, and his hand clenched his spoon so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

Elijah noticed the change in Kieran's demeanor, as did Visconti, who glanced between Kieran and the officer with curiosity. 

Neither said a word, but the tension was palpable. 

Kieran's expression was one of pure hatred, his jaw clenched as if holding back words he wanted to scream. Whatever history he had with Allan was deeply personal.