Elias loved the way they looked at him.
The slow glances. The quiet measuring. The way conversations dipped just slightly when he stepped in—as if the room had collectively decided he was worth noticing.
It did something to him. Something sharp and oddly satisfying, like scratching an itch he hadn't even realized was there.
For a moment, he almost tilted his chin up—just a little. Enough for the light to catch his features properly. Enough for admiration to settle where it belonged.
He could already imagine it.
Yeah... keep looking.
But even as the thought formed, something else crept in.
A tightness.
An unease that sat heavy in his chest.
Most of the teenagers here weren't particularly high-ranked. Which meant they lacked the control to suppress their presence properly. Their Resonance Strings leaked—spilling into the air in faint, invisible ripples.
And those ripples brushed against him.
Not gently.
They pressed in, tangled, overlapped—each carrying traces of emotion that didn't belong to him. Excitement. Jealousy. Curiosity. Irritation.
It made his stomach turn.
Everyone knew how it worked. The moment you awakened your Resonance String as a Novice, you couldn't actually use it—not yet. But you could feel it. A quiet hum inside you. And without even trying, it would seep outward, influencing others in subtle, emotional waves.
That was normal.
Elias wasn't.
Because whatever he had... wasn't a Resonance String.
The system had called it a Harmonic Core.
And unlike everyone else in this room, he gave off nothing.
No ripple. No presence. No hum.
Just... silence.
Which, now that he thought about it, probably explained why they'd labeled him defective.
Elias exhaled softly and stepped further into the cabin, posture relaxed, expression easy—like none of it bothered him.
Like he belonged.
He didn't spare a glance for the three red-haired girls practically burning holes into his back.
He felt them, though.
Felt the sharp edge of their attention. The hostility threaded through it.
And for a brief second, the smile on his lips almost slipped—threatened by a sudden, irrational surge of irritation.
'What is wrong with these guys?'
He kept walking anyway, forcing the expression to stay in place.
The girl with orange hair, seated a few chairs away by the open windows with a violin across her shoulders was actually kind of helping.
She was playing the violin—the sound soft, steady and calming, threading through the chaos of paradoxical emotions and grounding him. For a moment, it eased the pressure in his head, smoothing out the mess of чуж emotions pressing against him.
But then he noticed her eyes.
Narrowed.
Fixed on him.
Like she was... what? Cursing him mid-performance?
Elias blinked.
No, no. Let's not jump to wild conclusions.
More likely, she was trying to etch his face into memory. Understandable, really. Where else can you find such a handsome, drop-dead gorgeous face on the planet?
In that case... he might as well give her something worth remembering.
He cleared his throat lightly, then shot her the most dazzling, devastatingly confident wink he could muster.
A pause.
Her eyebrow twitched.
Then she turned her face away and continued playing, as if he didn't exist.
Elias stared for half a second.
...tough crowd.
Around him, the room slowly lost interest. Conversations resumed. People drifted back into their own worlds, like his entrance had been nothing more than a passing distraction.
Well.
Almost everyone.
"Oi."
The voice cut through the cabin, rough and loud.
"Who the hell are you, boy?"
Elias turned.
One of the guys—thick-built, grinning like an idiot—stood over the boy sprawled helplessly on the floor. His knuckles cracked one after the other, the sound sharp, eager.
Like he'd been waiting for a new target.
Elias felt his left eyebrow twitch.
Ah. Of course.
"You're in a lot of trouble now," a voice chimed in from the side.
Elias glanced over.
A pink-haired girl sat a few meters away, watching him with open curiosity. She looked almost unreal—like a porcelain doll someone had decided to give life. Her eyes, a strange, alluring blue, reflected everything too clearly.
"Those guys have been acting like tyrants for a while," she continued lightly. "But since you had the nerve to call everyone here losers..." Her lips curved, just a little. "You must be pretty strong too, right?"
By now, the rest of the group had turned fully toward him.
Their gazes weren't curious.
They were cruel.
Measuring.
Hungry.
Elias felt it again—that press of чуж intent, thick and suffocating. It crawled under his skin, making him shiver before he could stop himself.
Nope.
He pivoted smoothly, heading for an empty seat by the wall, raising a hand in a casual wave.
"Don't mind me," he said lightly. "I'm just a nobody who doesn't understand the immensity of heaven and earth."
Silence.
Then—
"Humph!"
Elias glanced back just in time to see the pink-haired girl click her tongue, her face twisting in pure disappointment.
"Coward!" she snapped, sticking her tongue out at him like an offended child.
Elias sank into the chair, a quiet exhale escaping his nostrils as his face twisted in irritation as he turned to glare at her—only to realize he'd taken the seat directly opposite her stupidly... gorgeous face.
Damn it.
This girl was going to get him killed.
Out of everyone here, Elias had no illusions about his standing. He was the weakest. Not "maybe," not "arguably." Definitely.
He hadn't even been awakened for more than two freaking days.
Two.
He'd just been trying to aurafarm a little—harmless flexing, nothing serious. He didn't actually mean half the nonsense he'd said.
Right?
...Right?
The sound of approaching footsteps snapped whatever fragile comfort he had left.
Elias' face paled.
The four boys were already moving.
One of them lazily kicked the blonde-haired boy on the ground, sending him skidding across the cabin like a discarded sack. The boy's head hit the floor with a dull crack before his body went limp.
Out cold.
Elias felt his spine go cold.
Yeah... no. This is bad.
The rest of the teenagers shifted aside as the group passed—not just for them.
For him.
Great.
Just great.
At the center of it all was the obvious leader—a burly teenager with violet hair, his eyes gleaming with something dark and unpleasant. His clothes screamed money. The kind that didn't need to prove itself.
'Noble House,' Elias guessed immediately.
The three others fanned out around him, their steps heavy with arrogance, like the world itself was beneath their notice.
Like everyone else was.
Elias' jaw tightened as they came to a stop right in front of him.
For a brief moment, it felt like the entire train had gone quiet.
Not silent—no.
Rather it felt like they were all watching subtly.
Elias drew in a slow breath, steadying himself as the violet-haired boy's gaze locked onto him, sharp and invasive.
And then—
Something shifted.
Elias' stomach dropped.
A ripple hit him.
Not like the others.
This one was wrong.
Cold. Twisted. Crawling.
It slid into his mind like a whisper he hadn't invited.
Kill yourself.
The thought came sudden and sharp.
Just kill yourself.
Elias' fingers twitched.
For a split second—a terrifying, ridiculous second—a part of him actually considered it.
His breath hitched.
What the hell—?
He clenched his teeth hard, forcing the thought down, crushing it before it could take root.
His eyes darkened slightly as realization set in.
...Of course.
Of course this was the kind of ripple a bastard like him would have.
Something quiet.
Something insidious.
Something suiting for a horrible person that was probably sick in the head.
"I am Damon Frey, a Scion of Wergon."
He dipped his head slightly toward Elias as he spoke, brown eyes narrowing just enough to feel deliberate.
"This is my train. Everyone here follows my rules." A pause. Then, almost generously, "Since you're new, I'll let your earlier statement slide."
Elias let out a quiet breath of relief—
Only for it to catch halfway.
Because Damon was smiling.
And not the nice kind.
The kind that made you wonder if you'd missed something important... like a trap snapping shut.
Damon leaned back and gave a slow, almost amused clap, like he'd just discovered something entertaining.
"However," he continued, voice light, "I find your cockiness... a little endearing."
Elias didn't like where this was going.
"So endearing," Damon went on, eyes glinting, "that I've decided to give you the honor of becoming one of my underlings."
Elias blinked.
Once.
Twice.
I'm sorry—what?
For a second, he genuinely wondered if his ears had betrayed him.
Then reality settled in.
...Oh. This guy is completely insane.
Who in their right mind would volunteer to be this idiot's dog?
Behind Damon, the three boys stiffened.
Not in agreement.
In shock.
And something uglier.
Jealousy.
"Boss... are you sure about this?" the white-haired one said, his blue eyes cutting toward Elias like knives. "He looks like a softie. No one's going to take him seriously."
"Yeah, boss," the chubby one added, a bit more hesitant but no less displeased. "You might want to think this through properly..."
"I agree," the last one chimed in, eyes dragging over Elias like he was something unpleasant stuck to a shoe. "My little cousin looks better than this guy—and she's not even ten yet."
"Shut up, idiots!"
Damon's voice cracked through the air, sharp enough to make the others flinch. His gaze snapped back to Elias, cold and expectant.
"Now that you're one of my underlings," he said calmly, "you have ten seconds to get on your knees and kiss my boots."
A pause.
"Take too long, and I'll lose interest. And trust me..." His lips curved faintly. "I don't change my mind."
Silence swallowed the cabin.
Everyone was watching now.
Waiting.
Elias... was trying very hard to keep his hands still.
He failed.
His fingers curled into fists, tight enough to hurt—and before his brain could catch up with what he was doing, he was already moving.
He shot to his feet and swung.
Crack.
His fist slammed straight into Damon's face.
The entire cabin of teenagers gasped at once.
Elias staggered back half a step, clutching his hand with a pained hiss.
"Shit—why is your face so damn hard?" he snapped, wincing.
What is this guy made of? Steel?
"Does he chew calcium tablets for breakfast or what—"
A soft giggle cut through the tension.
Elias glanced up.
The pink-haired girl was laughing, her voice light and bright, like bells ringing in the middle of a funeral.
Bad timing.
Very bad timing.
"How dare you—"
The burly one stepped forward with a growl, and suddenly the air changed.
His ripple surged.
Thick.
Heavy.
Elias felt it slam into him like a physical force.
His breath hitched.
His chest tightened.
His heart—God—his heart was racing too fast, pounding like it was trying to break out of his ribs.
Not now. Not now—
It felt like a panic attack clawing its way up his throat.
The other two were already moving, hands raised, faces twisted with open hatred.
Ready to strike.
But Elias barely saw them.
Because Damon...
Damon hadn't stepped back.
Not even a little.
His head had snapped to the side from the punch, but his hands were still tucked casually into his pockets as he slowly turned back.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And the smile from earlier?
Gone.
Completely.