The Last Esper [BL] Chapter 21: The coin in the air

Rhys held Milo’s gaze.

"We need to look into Eun-woo’s past," he said firmly. "I’ve noticed inconsistencies. Eun-woo told that even before he was taken to the Research Center, he was already living in isolation. No school, no contact with other people."

The murmur returned, but this ti in a lower, curious tone.

"I don’t think he was born through in vitro fertilization, as we suspected," Rhys continued. "Maybe he was conceived naturally. Maybe he was taken from his birth parents and handed over to a foster family that feared him for what he was. Or maybe..." He hesitated for a second before continuing, "perhaps his own parents abandoned him."

The room fell silent. Eyes shifted to Milo, Gunnar, even Caelan, waiting for a reaction.

Gunnar was the first to speak.

"And if what you say is true... if he really was conceived naturally... why didn’t anyone go looking for him? Maybe his parents are dead."

"Or maybe they don’t even know he’s alive," Rhys shot back. "There are too many possibilities and no certainties. That’s why we need to investigate. Because if he was conceived naturally, if his parents exist, if there are more like him... then Eun-woo isn’t the last esper."

His words hung in the air. Even the most skeptical remained silent, digesting that possibility.

"I need to know the truth." Rhys stepped forward, without hesitation. "And if there’s more to it than we think... we’re going to find out."

Gunnar rested his elbows on his knees and interlaced his fingers thoughtfully.

"So what’s next? If you can bond with him, he’ll cease to be a threat. But... are we going to ignore the fact that we have a weapon in our hands that could turn the tide of the war?"

Milo nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Rhys.

"It’s too much power to waste."

Rhys clenched his jaw.

"What if he’s not here to kill? What if Eun-woo wasn’t created for that?"

The constant murmur of minutes before faded as if carried away by the wind. Rhys continued:

"The Burrow was born to endure. To heal the wounds left by the war, not create new ones. Turning Eun-woo into a weapon would make us no better than Blackwood. It would be hypocritical. It would betray everything we fought for."

So looked down, uncomfortable. Gunnar frowned, but didn’t interrupt.

Rhys continued speaking, more confidently:

"Yes, it’s true that his presence will attract Blackwood’s attention. But as long as Eun-woo is with us, Blackwood won’t dare touch us because he needs him. He knows what he can do. As long as Eun-woo is on our side, his very existence will be a deterrent."

Gunnar ran a hand through his beard, exhaling heavily.

"That’ll only work until Blackwood decides to play dirty. He could kidnap our people or wipe out the slums just to send a ssage. We can’t risk it like that."

"What if we do the exact opposite?" Caelan suggested. "What if we made Eun-woo a symbol? Not just to instill fear in Blackwood... but to inspire others. There are many people in the wealthy neighborhoods who hate what he’s done, but they don’t have enough reason to rebel. Eun-woo can be that reason. He can unite us against Blackwood."

Milo remained silent for a few more seconds before taking off his glasses, wiping them with the edge of his shirt, and putting them back on.

"This is like flipping a coin," he said, looking at everyone. "We don’t know which side it’ll land on. But I’m willing to take the risk... if you are too."

Those present exchanged glances. So were hesitant. Others seed determined.

It was ti to vote on the direction they would take.

***

Jae and Eun-woo sat in a corner, on top of so wooden crates stacked against the wall. From there, they watched people constantly moving—carrying crates, talking, checking lists.

Jae shifted his feet anxiously, lightly tapping the box beneath him. Eun-woo glanced at him.

"You alright?"

Jae sighed and shrugged.

"I don’t know... your future’s in the hands of Milo, Gunnar, and the council," he replied, glancing toward the door the others had disappeared through minutes before. "Sotis those etings get tense, you know? So people are going to be against you staying, I know it."

Eun-woo looked up. A silhouette moved nimbly across the ceiling’s tal beams, just above the lights.

It was a slender animal with mottled gray fur and amber eyes that shone in the dim light of the warehouse. It walked confidently along the rafters, as if unafraid of falling, and then leaped toward one of the high windows, disappearing through it.

It was a cat.

Eun-woo blinked, srized.

"...sotis they argue so much it feels like they’re going to hit each other," Jae said, still talking, not noticing that Eun-woo wasn’t listening anymore. "But sohow, they always end up voting in the end..."

Taking advantage of Jae’s rambling, Eun-woo quietly slipped away toward a side door. Outside, the air was cooler, and the market’s hustle and bustle was muffled.

Eun-woo found the cat tucked inside a rusty trash can, devouring the remains of so kind of at. He crouched beside it and reached out to pet it.

That’s when he felt a pang in his chest. A pressure that warned him sothing was wrong. Very wrong.

The cat raised its head, as if it had also felt it, and ran away down an alley.

Eun-woo took a step back. Then another. But instead of going back inside The Burrow, he felt compelled to move forward, as if sothing were calling him.

He wandered through streets growing more and more deserted, where market stalls had vanished and the echo of the crowd had faded. The buildings around him looked abandoned for decades.

The exterior walls were cracked, covered in damp patches that ran like dark veins through the concrete. So structures still held worn-out signs, others hung askew, flapping in the wind like they were trying to break free.

The windows, mostly broken, let in gusts of air that hissed through the cracks. Torn curtains fluttered weakly in so fras, as if the buildings were breathing. Inside, the remaining furniture was eaten away by humidity, covered in dust and mold. Sofas with exposed springs, wobbly tables, mattresses inflated by water and decay.

Eun-woo crept forward, careful with every step. There was sothing in the air that unsettled him. A vague but persistent feeling that sothing wasn’t right.

He heard a slow, persistent dripping sound, as if the building were weeping. Then, a faint creaking sound made him stop in his tracks, but it turned out to be just a rat scurrying through the rubble. Further ahead, he heard an irregular tapping sound that made him gasp, but it was rely a sheet of tal hitting a wall in the wind.

He stopped.

He was going to return.

But then, without warning, a bolt of lightning struck from the sky with a deafening crash, so close that the shockwave threw Eun-woo back several steps. The ground shook beneath his feet. The asphalt split violently, lifted by the force of the bolt, and the air was filled with a tallic sll.

The lightning did not disappear.

Its whitish, pulsating light crackled with a high-pitched, unnatural sound, as if the sky were dying. From the core of the column of light, gigantic tentacles began to erge, their skin translucent and gelatinous in texture. They were covered in suction cups that opened and closed with a slimy clicking sound.

Eun-woo couldn’t move. Fear pinned him in place, paralyzing him with awe and dread. He knew he was witnessing sothing that wasn’t supposed to exist. Sothing that didn’t belong in his world.

And then, as if the city’s very heart had awakened, a deep sound reverberated from the loudspeakers scattered throughout the streets. The wind roared, hurling dust and debris into the air.

Eun-woo stood frozen, face-to-face with the Rift...

As the creature on the other side began to cross.