Shinkai - The Eyes That Shouldn't Exist

The chamber was cold — not because of the stone or the air, but because of the man inside it.

King Cedric stood before the tall stained-glass window that overlooked the heart of Yurelda. The colors filtering through cast fractured rainbows across his shoulders, but none reached his face.

Behind him, a cloaked man knelt.Blood dripped from his sleeve onto the marble floor.

"Back so soon?" Cedric's voice was calm — too calm. The kind of calm that came before a storm.

The cloaked agent dropped to one knee, head lowered. A thin trail of blood marked his temple.

"We lost him." His voice cracked with the effort. "He resisted. Water Magic."

Cedric didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

The silence stretched — long enough for fear to take shape. The marble floor beneath the agent seemed colder now. The air denser. Breathing became a task.

"When I engaged," the man forced out, "he parried cleanly. Controlled. Not wild, not lucky. The spell he used was called Torrent. It—"

"His eyes."

Cedric's voice sliced through the air — quiet, but honed like a dagger.

"Did you see them?"

The man nodded quickly. "Yes, Your Majesty. One green. One black."

Now Cedric turned.

Slowly. Deliberately.

His golden eyes — the untouchable mark of sovereign blood — locked onto the man like a spear poised mid-flight.

"Did anyone else?"

A pause. Too long.

"…Yes."

The admission landed like a crack of thunder. "There was a crowd. Dozens."

Cedric's jaw clenched.

Then, lower — darker:

"And tell me…" His voice was now just above a whisper. "…why has this anomaly remained buried for so many years?"

The agent swallowed. "He must've been hidden. The lower crescents— we think someone took him in, protected him. We had no records. No—"

"No," Cedric said, standing slowly, each movement controlled like a blade unsheathed. "You had no awareness. You had no vigilance. And now you come crawling back… to tell me you lost him?"

His words echoed.

The agent shivered, not from cold — but from something deeper.

Cedric stepped down from the dais. His presence carried heat and weight. Not magic. Not fury.

Authority.

He walked to the desk at the center of the room. Upon it sat a glass sphere — dark water swirling inside, faintly glowing.

Cedric placed one palm gently against the glass.

"A green eye," he murmured. "And a black one."

He stared into the sphere, voice lower now — as if speaking to the world itself.

"A pairing that is unheard of. A pairing that should never exist."

He paused.

Then added, more quietly:"I should have known better."

A long breath escaped him.

"No more mistakes."

The agent remained frozen, unsure if he was meant to leave… or if this was the end.

Then Cedric's voice came again. Cold. Measured.

"Send him."

The agent blinked. "Y-Your Majesty?"

"He doesn't need the details," Cedric said, eyes still fixed on the glass. "He just needs to know there's a threat."

A pause.

"And make sure he understands: this time, there's no room for failure."

The agent swallowed hard.

He bowed low, deeper than before, and quickly exited — his footsteps echoing like a death sentence behind him.

Left alone, Cedric gazed out across the city that had served him so well.

Now it dared to whisper back.

Meanwhile: A Balcony Two Floors Above

Lady Elyria leaned against the marble rail, her silver hair stirring in the breeze. Below, the city pulsed — glowing lanterns, crooked alleys, distant voices.

Beside her, a maid poured tea into a delicate cup, careful not to speak first.

"He looked… lost," Elyria said softly.

"My lady?"

"The boy...dark hair. A strange stillness to him."

The maid hesitated. "You went to the lower tiers again."

"I had business."

She accepted the cup but didn't drink.

"He wasn't like the others. I've seen powerful men. Arrogant ones. But he wasn't either. He had…" She paused. "Two different eyes."

The maid stiffened. "Are you sure?"

"One green. The other black. But not dull. Sharp. Alert. Like he saw through things."

"Should I inform His Majesty?"

Elyria shook her head. "No. He already knows."

She looked back out over the city — over the glowing veins of power and control that stretched through every district like a net.

"How can someone with those eyes still look so kind?" she whispered. "How can someone live so peaceful?"

Back in the Hidden Room Below the Textile Quarter

The tea had gone cold.

Neither of them touched it.

The shutters were closed. The lamps were low. The weight in the room was not just silence — it was the kind that came before hard decisions.

Gramps sat across from Kazuo, hands folded. Rei stood off to the side, arms crossed, still rattled from the escape.

"You need to disappear," Gramps said.

Kazuo met his eyes. "How? i can't just leave the Capital."

"I'm not talking about leaving the Capital," the old man replied.

"I mean vanish. Leave the surface. Go below."

Rei straightened. "The Hollow Veins?"

The words felt like a door closing.

Kazuo didn't answer.