Mathew opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see the pale morning sky through the cracked window above his bed.
Instead, all he saw was the same dusty ceiling that greeted him every morning inside the old orphanage on the outskirts of Western Quadrant.
The ceiling creaked faintly as wind pushed against the worn wooden walls.
Dust drifted through thin rays of sunlight leaking from the broken shutters nearby.
Somewhere outside, children laughed while buckets clanged against stone wells.
Mathew sighed deeply and rubbed his face.
“Another wonderful morning,” he muttered dryly.
His tiny room was barely large enough to fit a bed and an old wooden cabinet with one missing door.
The blanket covering him looked as ancient as the building itself, patched together so many times that no one could tell its original color anymore.
Still, compared to some of the younger children, Mathew considered himself lucky.
He sat up and stretched, revealing a lean but athletic body shaped by years of labor rather than comfort.
At seventeen, Mathew already looked older than most boys his age.
His short blonde hair fell slightly over his blue eyes, and despite his worn clothes, there was something naturally noble about his appearance.
If anyone saw him in the capital city, they might mistake him for the son of some imperial family fallen on hard times.
But appearances meant little in Western Quadrant.
Here, survival mattered more.
Mathew stood up and grabbed the old broom resting beside the wall.
“Better get moving before Lady Godspell throws me into the cellar again.”
The thought alone made him shiver.
Lady Godspell, the orphanage caretaker, was feared by every child in the building.
Not because she was cruel—though she certainly could be terrifying—but because she tolerated absolutely no laziness.
Mathew stepped out into the narrow hallway and headed toward one of the abandoned storage apartments attached to the orphanage.
The place smelled awful.
Dust coated nearly every surface.
Broken furniture was stacked in corners, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like decorations for some haunted festival.
Mathew frowned.
“How does a room get dirtier after being cleaned every single day?”
He had barely started sweeping when—A deafening crash exploded overhead.
The ceiling shattered instantly.
Wood and debris rained downward as a small figure came crashing through the roof like a meteor.
Mathew jumped back just in time.
The figure slammed into the ground, leaving a crater in the wooden floor.
Silence followed.
Then a groan.
“Owwww…
that hurt.”
A petite silver-haired girl slowly sat up in the middle of the wreckage, rubbing her head as dust floated around her.
She looked no older than sixteen.
Her pale skin almost resembled porcelain, so white it gave her an almost ghostly appearance.
Long silver hair spilled over her shoulders while sharp emerald-green eyes glared upward toward the destroyed ceiling.
Despite the destruction around her, she looked more annoyed than injured.
She pointed accusingly at Mathew.
“Are you just going to stand there staring like an idiot,” she snapped playfully, “or are you going to help me clean this up?”
Mathew stared blankly at her for several seconds before sighing.
“Why should I?” he replied.
“You’re the one who made the mess, Anika.”
Anika looked at him in surprise.
“You’re unbelievably rude this early in the morning.”
“And you’re unbelievably destructive.”
The silver-haired girl huffed dramatically before standing up and brushing dust from her black coat.
Anika was strange.
Even among the gifted children of the orphanage, she stood out.
Nobody knew where she came from originally.
Lady Godspell had simply appeared one winter carrying the unconscious girl in her arms, and from that day onward Anika became part of the orphanage.
Most people found her beautiful.
Mathew found her exhausting.
As Anika bent down to pick up pieces of wood
Mathew’s sweeping slowed.
For a moment, the playful mood disappeared entirely as he stared silently at the floor
Neither of them spoke again after that.
The atmosphere became heavy as they finished cleaning the ruined room together.
Eventually, Mathew set the broom aside and walked outside with Anika following close behind.
The orphanage courtyard was unusually noisy that morning.
Children of different ages gathered together on the old veranda, whispering excitedly among themselves.
Some looked nervous while others seemed thrilled.
Mathew narrowed his eyes.
Whenever children became this quiet and excited at the same time, it usually meant trouble.
And sure enough—At the center of the crowd stood a boy around seventeen years old with messy black hair and sharp dark eyes.
Kane.
Mathew immediately frowned.
Kane held out his palm as strange red energy swirled around it like smoke.
The glowing substance pulsed violently before condensing into the shape of a long arrow.
But this was no ordinary flame.
The arrow emitted both heat and cold simultaneously.
Frost-fire.
One of the rarest elemental mutations.
The nearby children stared in amazement.
“Wow, Kane, you’re awesome!” one boy shouted excitedly.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kane replied arrogantly.
“You don’t need to state the obvious.”
The frost-fire arrow crackled louder as he aimed forward.
Mathew followed the direction of the attack—
and his expression instantly darkened.
An old woman carrying laundry slowly crossed the courtyard completely unaware of what was happening.
Her gray hair swayed gently in the wind, and her frail body looked as though it could collapse from exhaustion at any moment.
The children laughed.
Kane smirked.
Then he released the arrow.
The projectile shot forward with terrifying speed.
“Idiot!” Mathew shouted.
Before anyone could react—Mathew vanished from where he stood.
The children gasped.
In the next instant, he appeared directly in front of the old woman.
Water surged through the air beside him, forming a translucent shield seconds before impact.
The frost-fire arrow exploded against the shield violently.
Steam erupted everywhere.
The force pushed Mathew backward across the courtyard while cracks spread through the watery barrier.
Pain shot through his arm instantly.
Even with the shield, the attack was powerful.
Still, he held firm.
Mathew wrapped his free arm around the old woman protectively.
“Are you alright, Granny?” he asked quickly.
The old woman looked up in shock.
“Mathew…” she whispered weakly.
“I should be asking you that.
Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
That was a lie.
His right arm burned intensely beneath the shield’s pressure.
But before the old woman could say anything else—
“MATHEWWWW!”
A loud voice echoed across the courtyard.
Anika rushed toward them while extending one hand forward.
The water shield surrounding Mathew dissolved into glowing blue particles.
It turned out the shield itself had not been Mathew’s ability at all.
It was Anika’s.
“You idiot!” she yelled angrily.
“Do you always jump in front of attacks without thinking?!”
Mathew shrugged tiredly.
“She would’ve died.”
Anika clenched her fists but said nothing further.
The younger children had all gone silent now.
Fear slowly replaced excitement.
Mathew gently helped the old woman stand before turning around toward Kane and the others.
His blue eyes had become cold.
Very cold.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Even the wind seemed to stop moving.
Mathew walked slowly toward the group.
Every step felt heavy.
Threatening.
Kane swallowed nervously but forced himself to stand proudly.
“I thought I told you,” Mathew said quietly, “to stop causing trouble around here, Kane.”
Kane glared back stubbornly.
“So what?” he snapped.
“What are you gonna do about it?”
Before he could finish speaking, Kane suddenly slammed into the ground violently.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
The surrounding children screamed.
Kane’s eyes widened in terror.
W-What hit me?!
There had been no punch.
No kick.
Nothing.
One moment he was standing.
The next, it felt as though an invisible hammer had crushed his entire body.
Kane struggled to breathe as he looked upward.
Mathew stood over him calmly.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Mathew said coldly.
“It’s just my ability.”
Fear spread across the children immediately.
Unlike Kane’s abilities, Mathew’s ability was strange.
No one fully understood it.
Some said he manipulated pressure.
Others believed he controlled invisible force.
A few children even whispered that his power resembled something forbidden.
Whatever it was, everyone knew one thing—
Once Mathew became serious, people got hurt.
Kane coughed violently and forced himself onto one knee.
“Tch… you think you’re special because you’re stronger than us?”
Mathew remained expressionless.
Kane wiped blood from his mouth and laughed angrily as he stared at the bright blue eyes staring back at him.