Magus Supremacy

"Look at him, he's quite the looker."

"When is he going to wake up, Mum?"

"I don't know. He has been like this for three weeks now."

"Dad, where did you even find him?"

"In the forest. I was coming back when I heard a huge explosion, so I decided to go check it out. Half the forest was destroyed and burnt down."

"Yikes! Do you think he did that?"

"We can't say. We just need to wait for him to wake up before we can make any assumptions."

"I wonder when he… Look! Movement! I think he's waking up!" a little child shouted, and instantly, everybody surrounded the individual lying on the bed.

"Ow…" the crimson-haired individual groaned as his hand slowly crept toward his aching head.

His blurry eyes fluttered open gradually as he tried to make sense of what was going on. Within a few seconds, his vision cleared, and he saw five individuals standing in front of him.

First was a middle-aged man who didn't look a day over forty. His face was framed with a full black beard, and his slick black hair complemented his hazel-brown eyes that now stared curiously down at the figure in the bed.

Beside him was a woman with long, beautiful blonde hair and bright yellow eyes. A warm smile graced her elegant, egg-shaped face.

The next was a teenage boy, probably around seventeen. He bore a striking resemblance to the older man, with matching black hair, but his eyes were a vivid yellow, unlike his father's.

Then came a pretty young girl who looked no older than sixteen. Her long blonde hair shimmered slightly in the light, and her green eyes sparkled with curiosity as she gazed down at him.

The last was a cheeky-looking little girl, maybe seven years old. Her purple hair danced slightly with the breeze coming through the open window. A mischievous grin was plastered across her face, her eyes wide with wonder.

Scanning the place, the crimson-haired individual quickly realized he was in a small room.

There was a single window off to the side, letting in gentle daylight. He was lying on a small wooden bed, just big enough to squeeze in two people.

His head throbbed, wrapped tightly in a bandage, and his side ached as if he had been stabbed with a burning spear. He could barely sit up without groaning.

"Wh…what happened? Wh…where am I?" he asked, his voice scratchy, his eyes cautious as they darted between the unfamiliar faces.

"Where you are?" the older man said, stepping forward with a friendly chuckle. "You're in my home, and currently, you're occupying my son's room and his bed."

"Wh…what happened to me?" the crimson-haired boy asked again, raising his hand to gently press the bandage wrapped around his head, as if trying to massage the memories back into place. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind remained blank.

"We don't really know," the older man answered calmly. "I was heading somewhere when I passed through the forest and found you lying there, unconscious and barely breathing.

The area around you was completely scorched. Trees were reduced to cinders, and the ground was blackened from fire."

"Who…who are you all? Why…why did you save me?" the crimson-haired individual asked, still looking dazed and confused.

"Why did we save you?" the man repeated with a laugh. "Because you were on the brink of death. Any later and you'd be having tea with your ancestors."

"Come on!" the woman beside him scolded with a light frown, her tone disapproving but gentle. "This is no time for jokes."

"Alright, alright. My bad," the older man said, raising both hands in mock surrender, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"For your question," the woman said as she glanced back at the crimson-haired individual with a warm smile on her face, "I'm Clarice. This is my husband, Yami." She pointed toward the older man beside her.

"That's my son, Finral," she added, gesturing to the young boy who just scoffed and crossed his arms. Then her finger shifted to the blonde teenage girl. "That's my daughter, Vanessa. And this cutie here," she said, gently patting the head of the smallest one, "is my other daughter, Millie."

Clarice finished the introductions with a cheerful smile, while the crimson-haired young man just kept looking at each of them, one after the other, confusion etched across his face.

"And what's your name?" Vanessa asked sweetly, her head tilted slightly as a cute smile tugged at her lips.

"Grey," the crimson-haired boy replied. Then, as if something suddenly struck him, his gaze dropped to his hands. He raised them slowly, placing them over his temples, and a deep, throbbing pain washed over him.

Flashes—fleeting, indistinct images—raced through his mind, each more disorienting than the last.

They were blurry, chaotic, and jumbled together, like fragments of a life he couldn't fully remember. His head pounded in sync with his heartbeat, the intensity escalating with every passing second.

His fingers gripped his scalp tightly, and then—without warning—he yanked at his own hair and let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed through the room.

"Mum, what's wrong with him?!" Millie cried in alarm, rushing to hide behind Clarice as panic swept through her.

"Hold him down!" Yami shouted as he rushed toward Grey, trying to subdue him. Despite Yami's superior strength, Grey thrashed violently, his limbs flailing as if possessed.

His screams grew louder, the torment in his head becoming unbearable as the visions refused to form into anything recognizable.

Clarice hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward. Kneeling beside Grey, she reached out with trembling hands and gently caressed his head.

The moment her touch met his scalp, Grey froze. A wave of warmth flooded over him—soothing, comforting. He looked up at the woman with teary eyes, his lips quivering as a single tear streaked down his cheek.

"Mum?" Grey whispered, his voice fragile.

"I'm not your mum," Clarice replied gently, brushing the hair from his forehead. "But I can be your mum… if you want me to."

Grey slowly shook his head in confusion, and Yami picked up on the signal. He loosened his grip and stood up, allowing Grey to sit up freely.

"What just happened? Why did you suddenly go crazy like that?" Yami asked, frowning slightly, one eyebrow raised.

"I… I… I don't know," Grey murmured, his fingers massaging his temple. "I saw blurry images… things I couldn't understand. I tried to make sense of it all, but I couldn't."

"Grey… You called yourself Grey, right?" Clarice asked, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. Grey gave a faint nod in response.

"We want to know—who are you? It's obvious you're not from around here. So… who exactly are you?"

Grey blinked. "Who… am I?" he repeated slowly, his voice shaky.

Then his eyes widened—once, then again—as realization, or rather, the lack of it, sank in.

"Wait! Who am I? I… I… I can't remember who I am!"

"Wait, what?!" everyone in the room shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the small space.