Crazy Awakening: My luck can copy Talents.

"Yeah?"

"I don’t want your house. I don’t want your salary. I don’t want your soul."

"..."

"As payment for the contract, I’m going to ask you for two things. First: if I ever find information about Marina, and that information is hard to hear, you let me tell you without hating me for it. It’s going to be difficult. It could be very difficult. I need to know you can handle that."

"...Okay."

"Second: if another human ever comes knocking on your door asking about strange disappearances in this area, you listen to them. You don’t turn them away. You listen to them the way you wish someone had listened to you three years ago."

Adrián paused.

"That’s it."

Nikolás stared at him for a long moment.

Then he stood from the armchair.

Walked over to Adrián.

And held out his hand.

"I accept the terms."

"Deal."

They shook hands.

At the exact moment their palms touched, Adrián’s hand flashed with a faint red glow.

The parchment still sitting in the summoning chamber—Adrián could somehow feel it from here through the magical connection—activated one final time.

Then it sealed.

The contract had officially been registered in the system.

Nikolás felt something too, though he probably had no idea what.

He stared at his own hand with a strange expression.

Then sat back down.

"...Okay. What now?"

"Now I borrow that notebook for a few days. And the three boxes. I need to go through everything with my..."

Adrián stopped himself.

"...with my team. When I’m done, I’ll bring everything back. And I’ll contact you as soon as I find something."

"How are you going to contact me?"

"I’ll show up at your door."

"Oh."

"Like demons do in movies."

"...You’re weird."

"Yeah. A little."

Nikolás smiled.

Barely.

It was an exhausted smile.

The first one Adrián had seen from him all night.

"Adrián."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for calling."

---

And at that exact moment—

Adrián felt something at the back of his neck.

Not Ishtar’s presence.

That had been there the entire time, faint and steady, like an open hand resting gently against the base of his skull.

This was different.

This was coming from the other side.

Something outside the apartment.

Something that shouldn’t have been there.

His new senses—the ones he still couldn’t consciously control but which apparently worked perfectly well on instinct—flared awake.

He heard—

or almost heard—

very soft footsteps in the building’s hallway.

Outside Nikolás’s apartment.

Two floors below.

Coming up.

Then he felt Ishtar’s voice at the back of his mind.

It wasn’t an external voice.

It was more like a thought carrying her exact texture—impossible to describe, but instantly recognizable.

"Brother-in-law. Presence in the building. Nonhuman. Kael detected it too. It’s coming up. Stay alert."

Adrián breathed in.

He looked at Nikolás.

Nikolás was still sitting there, completely unaware.

"Nikolás," Adrián said, his voice very calm. "I need you to do me a favor."

"...What?"

"I need you to take those boxes and the notebook and go into the kitchen. Now. No questions. And don’t come out until I tell you."

Nikolás stared at him.

"...Is something wrong?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. But if something does happen, I’d rather have you somewhere else."

Adrián nodded toward the kitchen.

"Go."

Nikolás didn’t argue.

He gathered the three boxes—two stacked under one arm, the third in the other—and tucked the notebook beneath his armpit.

Then he walked into the kitchen.

Closed the door.

Adrián remained standing in the living room.

The footsteps had reached the third-floor hallway.

They approached Nikolás’s apartment.

Closer.

Closer.

Then stopped directly outside the door.

Silence.

Adrián felt the presence on the other side scanning him.

Probing.

Assessing.

It wasn’t Sariel.

Adrián would have recognized his signature instantly.

This was something else.

Something colder.

Something older.

Inside him, something began waking on instinct.

Above his head, the Thief’s Mask flickered faintly without fully manifesting—a warning.

A signal that it was ready if he called for it.

Around his hands, the gloves began to form weakly in the air around his fingers.

Transparent.

Barely visible.

On the other side of the door, the presence spoke.

Not with a voice.

With a cold vibration pressed directly against the wood.

And although they weren’t exact words, Adrián understood the message perfectly.

"I know what you are."

A pause.

"I know what you’re carrying."

The air in the room seemed to grow colder.

"And I know exactly why the father summoned you."

Then:

"Open the door, Bearer."

"And let’s talk."

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