Into The Unown

N

When the news of their quarters going up in flames reached his ears, N laughed—a sound that carried satisfaction rather than horror.

The place he now resided in was the opposite of luxury. There were no guards outside, no cameras monitoring his moves, no servants and no ration. There was just N and him.

N sipped the deep red liquid in his glass he began unwrapping the bandages around his body. Beneath the layers of cloth lay his barren skin. The once raw skin had regenerated into something that could be called a skin, something entirely his.

"I've got to say," N began as he examined his hand in the dim ceiling light. "Not living a life of luxury worked well for us. You were right, Park."

"I'm always right,"

Park's ghostly form came into existence, swirling around N like a cigarette smoke. His features, though translucent, wore a sly grin. "I was right a thousand years ago, and I'm right even now."

N raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "No one likes a know-it-all, Park."

Park's grin faded. "If you'd only listened to me two years ago—let things run their natural course—we wouldn't be here. In this dump. Waiting for Calapris to stitch you back together."

N's smirk faltered. "You say the word like it's not my own, Park."

Park's figure came close, the flickering ceiling light illuminated his scowl. "Calapris means God's kiss. If is anything I've learned from Udon it's that a Van Black may be born with it, but not everyone is blessed with it."

"But I'm a Heisenberg like my father," N narrowed his eyes, "That's what Giovanni told me."

Park smirked, "Giovanni told you what he knew."

N's eyes darkened as he set the glass down with a deliberate clink. "You keep spouting warnings, Park, I may mistake you for the enemy."

"I have been in this game a lot longer than you have boy. You jumped in on the action in the middle, boy, but I am the one who started it." Park loomed closer, his voice close to a dangerous whisper, "You think you're untouchable, boy. But guess what, that's what your daddy thought. Need I remind you what Karma did to him."

"Need I remind you that I was the one who gave him that order?"

"Need I remind you that I created him?" Park laughed, "Calapris isn't just yours to wield, boy. If you don't start following my lead, you'll find yourself buried under things you can't even pronounce."

Silence shrouded between them, but then N chuckled—a soft, dangerous sound.

"Do you think you can scare me?" he asked. "I've survived the wild and death itself, Park. Giovanni discovered me when I was ten, Park. I was raised with wolves. I've mastered this power my entire life." N lifted his arm, the air surrounding him crackled with a sinister energy. "You think I don't know how to use Calapris?" N's voice was low. "Let me show you something."

Before Park could react, N's hand shot forward, grabbing him by the throat. Park's eyes widened in shock. For centuries, his spirit had been all seeing, something so immune to the mortal word that the laws trembled when they dared cross him and yet... there he was caught up in N's grasp, his form flickering to remain intact.

"That's not... possible," Park stuttered, his voice chocked for the first time in centuries.

"Oh, it's possible," his grip tightened. The black power whirled in circles around them; crackling in the near distance. As minutes passed, a dark obsidian like colour made its way down from N's scalp, transforming his blond hair and cerulean blue eyes into something sinister people were wary off. "And I don't care what this power is. I don't care about this fucking power. It's mine, you get it, mine!"

Park gasped as N released his grip. In between his gasps, he muttered, "Don't you know what happened to your.. father."

"Flash news, asshole, I am not my father," N growled. As Park distanced himself so did the darkness from N's face. An image of Udon couldn't help but flash in his mind. "I'm not your servant like my father was, if you want to live, treat me with respect."

"You'll regret this," Park hissed, his figure disappearing into the musty air.

"Maybe," N smirked, picking up his glass. "But not tonight."

Taking one last look, Park vanished into thin air, leaving N alone with his thoughts. He exhaled fiercely, shattering the glass within his grasp.

The power wasn't his—N knew that all too well. When N wrapped it around his palm, it pricked his skin like a thorn, giving him a constant reminder that he was living on time borrowed time. But just because it wasn't his yet didn't mean he couldn't make it his own.

"Serena," he whispered, her name a melody that tasted acrid on his lips. "Wait for me. I'm coming."