The warm, orange glow of the lamp flickered in the corner of Renjiro’s tent as he sat hunched over a worn sheet of parchment, charcoal smudging his fingers. His strokes were careful, shaping the contours of a small village—a human village.

The village where he grew up.

He added the details slowly. The forge, where he used to smith as sparks flew from molten metal. The house he shared with Satoshi, he even drew the tall cedar tree that stood at the village centre, the one he used to climb when he was younger.

Home.

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought about it in so long, but today, the memories had pulled at him like a tide. Maybe it was the failure at training, the way everyone else had harnessed their Lumina energy while he had struggled. Maybe it was the shame burning in his chest—the reminder that he didn’t belong here.

His fingers tightened around the parchment. What if he never had?

A voice broke the silence.

"That was some skill back there."

Renjiro’s head snapped up.

Rei stood at the entrance of the tent, arms crossed. Just there. Watching.

Renjiro’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t heard him enter. Hadn’t sensed him at all. The lamplight flickered, casting shadows across Rei’s face.

The parchment suddenly slipped from Renjiro’s grasp.

Before he could react, the sheet glided through the air as if pulled by an invisible thread, landing effortlessly in Rei’s open palm.

Renjiro stiffened. How...?

Rei’s gaze flicked over the drawing. 

"You’re quite the artist," he murmured. 

"What is this?"

Renjiro hesitated. Why was his chest so tight? Why did he suddenly feel like a child caught doing something he shouldn’t?

"It’s my home," he admitted,  his voice quieter than he intended. "I’m not from Azeron."

At that, Rei’s expression finally shifted.

"Not from Azeron?"

Renjiro glanced at the parchment still in Rei’s hands. It felt wrong, seeing it there. Like some part of himself had been laid bare.

"I came from a human village. We were attacked by the Crimson Dynasty, so... I was taken here."

Rei’s grip on the parchment tightened. Just slightly.

"A Luminarian in a human village?"

The question lingered in him.

Outside, hidden among the trees, Yumeru’s expression flickered.

A Luminarian raised among humans? She’d never heard of such a thing. No one had.

Inside the tent, Rei’s gaze bore into Renjiro like he was a puzzle that refused to fit.

"There are many refugees that come to Azeron," Rei finally said, "But I’ve never heard of a Luminarian living amongst humans before."

And then, just as quickly, Rei’s expression hardened.

"That wasn’t an ordinary strike today."

Renjiro blinked. The shift in conversation was so abrupt it disoriented him.

"That was something far more dangerous," Rei continued, stepping forward. The parchment vanished from his hand, tucked into his belt before Renjiro could react. "You’ve been struggling with basic Lumina control, and then you obliterate a training pillar with a single blow? That’s not just ‘anger,’ Renjiro. That’s something else. Something wild."

Renjiro clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to talk about it. Not after everything.

"I just… lost it," he muttered. "I couldn’t stop it."

Rei didn’t respond immediately. His gaze sharpened, studying Renjiro in a way that made his skin prickle.

"Show me your hand."

Renjiro hesitated.

"Your hand, Renjiro."

Swallowing, he extended his palm. His skin was raw from earlier, but it barely hurt anymore.

Rei gripped his hand firmly, fingers tracing over the calloused surface as if searching for something unseen. Then, without warning, he pressed down—just enough to break open a small cut.

Renjiro hissed as a few drops of blood beaded and fell to the floor.

Rei’s grip slackened.

Outside, Yumeru’s sharp eyes caught the movement. She’d been about to leave, but now—now she couldn’t.

Inside, Rei stood completely still, staring at the blood.

"That’s not possible," he whispered.

Renjiro frowned. “What? It’s just a scratch.”

Rei’s eyes snapped to his.

And then, he stepped back.

"Luminarians don’t bleed."

Renjiro’s mind stalled.

The words didn’t make sense.

"What are you talking about?"

Rei’s voice was low, "Our bodies are sustained by Lumina energy. Blood isn’t part of us. Your... human Renjiro."

The world tilted.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

The tent. The lamplight. The very ground beneath him—it all felt unreal like a dream slipping away before he could grasp it.

"If I’m human," he whispered, "then how can I use Lumina energy?"

Rei’s expression darkened. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "There are no records of a human ever wielding Lumina energy."

Outside, Yumeru’s fingers curled around the hilt of her dagger. She hadn’t realized she’d done it until her knuckles ached.

A human? Impossible.

And yet, the proof was there, glistening in the dim lamplight.

Renjiro wasn’t just an anomaly.

He was a danger.

"If this gets out," Rei muttered, "if the wrong people find out about you, you’ll be seen as a threat."

He wasn’t who he thought he was.

"I don’t understand," he whispered. "I never asked for this."

"You didn’t ask for it, but it’s yours to bear now. You can’t let anyone know—not the commander, not even General Seraphus. No one can know what you are.”

Rei turned toward the entrance but hesitated just before stepping outside.

Then, with a whisper of movement, he was gone.

Outside, Yumeru stepped back into the shadows, her mind racing as fast as Renjiro’s. The revelation had hit her just as hard. If Renjiro was human and could still wield Lumina… what did that mean for the rest of them?

Renjiro stood in the silence of the tent, his hand still trembling, the blood drying slowly on his palm. He wasn’t who he thought he was. He was something else. Something unknown.

But one thing was clear—nothing would ever be the same.