We turn back the clock, catching a glimpse of Lucio’s past.

A cold breeze swept across the cracked windowpanes of a lonely, almost forgotten orphanage. Inside, children huddled together for warmth, their breath visible in the chill. For Lucio, it was just another day—one more to survive.

The orphanage was crumbling, underfunded, and forgotten by the world. Medicine was a luxury. Adoptions were rare. Dreams didn’t just die here—they were never allowed to form.

Lucio had lost his parents at a young age and barely remembered them. With no trace of other relatives, this place had become his entire world. A worn-down house he longed to escape.

The headmaster, Mr. Blackthorn, only paid attention to children he saw as having “potential.” Lucio was not one of them.

To cope, Lucio often slipped out, disappearing for hours to wander by the nearby riverbank. It was his only freedom. His roommate Hans, on the other hand, was labelled as “promising.”

Later that evening at the orphanage.

“Guess what I got today,” Hans grinned.

“Let me guess—the headmaster gave you a pat on the head again?” Lucio replied dryly.

“A chocolate. Look!”

Lucio’s eyes widened. He had never seen one before.

Hans ripped open the wrapper and broke off a piece.

“Hans… if the headmaster finds out, you’ll be in trouble.”

“Oh, shut it, Lucio. Just take a bite.”

The moment the chocolate touched their tongues, everything else melted away. For a brief second, life felt normal.

But the moment didn’t last.

“Hey, Lucio… I’ve got news. It seems I am getting adopted.”

Lucio burst out laughing. “Good one, Hans. Seriously!”

“I’m not joking, Lucio… Blackthorn himself told me. He even had this creepy grin on his face — said he was proud of me and handed me a chocolate.”

Lucio clenched his fist. “Yeah… that’s odd, I’ve never seen him smile. Not once. I bet he’s up to something.”

The two boys stood in silence, uneasy thoughts swirling in the air.

Hans shook it off. “Whatever. It’s late — we need to go to bed.”

Suddenly, loud footsteps echoed in the hallway like thunder.

The door slammed open.

“Go to sleep! Tomorrow is an important day!” the headmaster barked, his eyes locking onto Lucio — as if the outburst was his fault alone.

Without a word, they climbed into bed.

The next morning, Hans was gone.

Lucio woke up to an empty bed. A strange silence hung in the room. No mocking remark. No smell of chocolate. Just... absence.

He ran outside, hoping for one last glimpse.

Parked in front of the orphanage gate was a pitch-black limousine. No number plates. Its windows were tinted so dark they swallowed light. Standing beside it were a few figures — tall, dressed in long coats with unfamiliar symbols. Their presence sent a chill through the morning air.

One of the men — marked by a strange tattoo beneath his left eye — scanned the area with sharp precision.

His gaze swept dangerously close to Lucio’s hiding spot. Lucio ducked just in time, slipping behind a nearby bush, heart pounding.

“Who are these people… Is this where Hans is going?” he wondered.

His line of sight was blocked — no sign of Hans. But in his gut, Lucio knew.

Hans was leaving.

They weren’t friends — not really — but they understood each other. And now that too was gone.

Trying to shake it off, Lucio wandered further, eventually straying near the riverbanks where he sometimes went to escape.

On his way back, he bumped into a group of kids. Not from the orphanage.

“Sorry,” Lucio muttered and tried to pass.

One boy sneered. “You filthy mutt… How dare you stain my clothes with your filth!”

Laughter erupted. Before Lucio could retreat, a stone struck his shoulder. Another hit his ribs. The jeers got louder as the group surrounded him, hurling insults and fists. Lucio collapsed under the weight of it all, helpless.

And then—

“Hey! What are you kids doing?!”

A voice thundered across the field.

The group froze, then scattered like frightened rats.

Lucio lay on the dirt, his chest rising and falling, eyes dazed, the world spinning.

A hand reached out to him.

Still shaking, Lucio accepted it.

“You alright?” the man asked.

Lucio blinked, trying to focus. Standing before him was a stranger — casually dressed, holding a stack of old books. He didn’t look like a teacher… maybe some kind of researcher?

“I... I think so. Just a little lightheaded.”

The man nodded, brushing dust off Lucio’s shoulder with surprising gentleness. He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t scold him. Just stood there — calm, steady.

Something about him felt different.

Lucio didn’t know it yet, but this man — Victor — would become a key thread in the tapestry of his life.