Loki sat up slightly, propping himself on one elbow.
"You're a cat," Loki said, voice flat. "A normal black cat I bought from a slave market."
"You have a sensitive nose, that's what the merchant said. So how the hell are you talking right now?"
Nyx flicked one ear, then licked his paw once before answering in that same calm, ancient tone.
"I don't remember much after waking up in that cage. Everything before the market is… fog and darkness."
He paused, golden eyes narrowing slightly. "The smell of too many terrified creatures in one place. After that, only footsteps then you."
Loki stared at the cat for a long moment, he's eyes narrowed in thought. "So... you're not using any kind of translation spell or human-language enchantment?"
Nyx shook his head, ears twitching. "I don't know how I can speak your language. It just popped up to my head after you named me."
Loki blinked. "You don't know what magic is?"
"No." The cat said it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, that Loki actually paused again.
He looked at Nyx—really looked.
A small black cat with one notched ear, golden eyes, and the voice of an ancient god who sounded mildly bored.
Loki exhaled through his nose, then muttered under his breath: "…Welp this is going to be complicated."
Nyx nodded his head agreeing, then comes back to licking his own ears.
Loki mind raced, "He doesn't know what magic is."
"He woke up in the cage with no memories."
"He speaks perfect French in a voice that sounds like it belongs to an ancient dragon or god."
Then, after few seconds of dead silence, an idea clicked into place.
"I've got an Idea." He smirked.
He sat up a little straight.
He reached over to the nightstand, picked up his phone, and checked the time.
"Perfect timing."
He gently scooped Nyx up with one hand, placed the cat on top of his own head like a living hat, and sat there cross-legged on the bed for a moment, thinking.
Nyx didn't complain. He simply adjusted his paws, curled his tail around Loki's ear for balance, and continued purring.
Loki stared straight ahead at the dark wall.
Then, without warning—He teleported.
One instant he was sitting on his bed with a cat on his head.
The next instant he was gone. The phone he'd been holding dropped from mid-air, bounced once on the bed, and landed face-up on the bed.
The screen showed the time: 02:47 a.m.
It was raining hard at Le Havre.
Heavy sheets of cold water hammered down on the concrete.
Even at 02:47 a.m., the port was not quiet.
A crowd of several hundred protesters had gathered outside the main gate, chanting under black umbrellas and plastic ponchos. Their voices rose above the rain in angry, rhythmic waves.
"Bring the port back to the goverment!"
"Le Havre belongs to France — not a kingdom from Eosysêr!"
Signs bobbed in the downpour: "Stop the Shadow Trade", "Our Harbor, Our Future", "Eosysêr Out!"
A line of guards in rain-slicked tactical gear stood shoulder-to-shoulder behind the reinforced barriers, shields up.
Among them were French military police and private contractors hired by the Association.
One of the guards — a stocky sergeant with a thick mustache — raised his megaphone, voice booming over the rain.
"Disperse immediately! This is an illegal gathering! You are blocking a strategic national asset! Move back or we will use force!"
A woman at the front of the crowd, soaked to the bone, shouted back:
"Force?! You're the ones protecting foreign invaders! That prince is sitting in there eating meat while our fishermen lose their jobs!"
Another protester, a young man with a megaphone of his own, yelled:
"We know what's happening! Meat prices are rising because of them!"
The sergeant's face tightened.
"Last warning! Back away from the gate or you will be arrested for trespassing on restricted military property!"
A older protester spat on the ground.
"Restricted for who? For us? While that fat Eosysêr pig sits inside laughing? This port belongs to France!"
The guards shifted uneasily. One younger soldier muttered under his breath to his partner:
"…They're not entirely wrong. I heard rumors about the underground levels. Weird shipments. People going in but not coming out."
His partner hissed back:
"Shut up. You want to end up on night watch in Antarctica? Just do your job."
The rain intensified.
Back at the command platform overlooking the gate, Sir Aldric Veyne stood motionless in the pouring rain, silver armor gleaming under the floodlights.
Water streamed off his helm in rivulets.
A guard came sprinting up the metal stairs, boots clanging, breathing hard.
"Sir Aldric!" the man gasped, saluting sloppily. "We can't hold the rally anymore! The crowd is getting bigger — they're pushing against the barriers!"
"Some are throwing bottles and flares! If we don't do something soon, they'll breach the outer perimeter!"
Aldric didn't move. His voice was calm, cold, and precise. "Maintain formation. Use non-lethal measures only. Tear gas and water cannons if necessary. Do not open fire unless they breach the inner gate."
The guard swallowed. "Yes, sir."
He turned to run back down when— From one of the archer towers, a sharp voice cut through the rain.
"Contact above! What's that from above?!"
Every head on the platform snapped upward.
High in the rainy night sky, silhouetted against the clouds and the occasional flash of lightning, stood a lone figure.
Floating, Mid-air.
Dark hair whipping in the wind. Bright blue eyes glowing faintly in the darkness one hand in his pocket.
A small black cat sat perfectly balanced on top of his head, tail flicking lazily. "Aren't you just showing off?" Nyx muttered.
"What'd you say? Don't you dare start talking to me like that you're just a BLACK cat and my slave."
Loki for few seconds paused trying to process the words he said.
"You sound racist with that—" Nyx words cuts off mid-sentence.
"Forget about it." Loki said voice cold and flat.
He opened his right palm which starts gathering intense amount of mana that ripples through the air.
"I'm doing all of this so I can help you get your memories back."
"And also a payback for what they did to my A5 wagyu ribeye." He muttered, his left eye—which was blue-green turquoise, now slowly turning into dark resembling a black hole, completely different from earlier.