Taking Over The Criminal UnderWorld As A 21st Century Magus!

Night had settled over Ironhold, casting long shadows across its cobbled streets and narrow alleys. Elian sat cross-legged in the crumbling remains of his makeshift shelter, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and resolve. Lena sat opposite him, her sharp features illuminated by the flickering light of a small fire. She had been watching him intently, her usual sarcasm replaced by a cautious skepticism.

"You're going to have to explain," Lena said finally, breaking the tense silence. Her voice was low but steady. "What you did back there? That wasn't normal. No one can do things like that."

Elian sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I don't know how to explain it," he admitted. "I…I just can. It's like it's a part of me."

"A part of you?" Lena leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "Elian, magic doesn't exist. Not here, not anywhere. People have told stories, sure, but they're just that—stories. The kind of thing parents make up to entertain kids or scare them into behaving."

"Then what am I?" Elian shot back, his voice tinged with frustration. He held out his hand, and with a flick of his fingers, a small, glowing sprout emerged from the dirt floor. It twisted and grew before their eyes, its leaves shimmering faintly in the dim light. "How do you explain this?"

Lena stared at the sprout, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for words. "I…don't know," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "But this doesn't make sense. Nothing in Ironhold—or anywhere else—works like this. We've got steam engines that can power entire cities, clockwork machines that can mimic human movement, and weapons that can pierce armor from hundreds of feet away. But this?" She gestured at the sprout. "This doesn't fit. It's impossible."

Elian extinguished the sprout with a wave of his hand. "That's why I don't let anyone see. You think I don't know the risk?"

Lena was silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on him. "I don't think you understand how dangerous this is. The Iron Guard isn't just some group of soldiers. They're the monarchy's enforcers. They'll do whatever it takes to maintain control. And if they think you're a threat…"

"I'm not a threat to anyone. All I want is to figure out who killed my parents."

"And you think this…magic…will help you do that?" Lena leaned back, crossing her arms. "What if the people who killed them are the same ones running this city? What then? You think your powers will make you invincible?"

"I don't know," Elian admitted. "But I can't just do nothing. I owe it to them…to him."

Lena's expression softened, and she exhaled slowly. "You're too stubborn for your own good, you know that?"

Elian managed a faint smile. "You've mentioned it once or twice."

As the conversation lulled, the sounds of Ironhold's restless night filled the air. The distant shouts of merchants closing their stalls mingled with the occasional clang of armor as guards patrolled the streets. Lena shifted uncomfortably, her thoughts clearly still racing.

"There's something else you should know," she said, her tone cautious. "About the assassin."

Elian's attention snapped to her. "What about them?"

"The way the guards talk about the killings…it's not just fear. It's panic. They're losing soldiers left and right, and no one knows how. The bodies are…weird."

"Weird how?"

Lena hesitated. "No wounds. No blood. It's like something just…took the life out of them. Some people are saying it's a demon or a curse, but no one really knows. And if magic doesn't exist, then what could do something like that?"

Elian's stomach churned. The description sounded unnatural, and it only deepened his unease. "Do they have any leads?"

Lena shook her head. "Nothing solid. Just rumors. But the guards are getting desperate. They're cracking down on anyone they think might be involved. People are disappearing, Elian. It's only a matter of time before they start looking for scapegoats."

The weight of her words settled heavily on him. He couldn't ignore the possibility that his powers, if discovered, would make him a target—not just of the guards, but of whoever or whatever was behind the killings.

"I need to be careful," he said finally. "But I won't stop. I can't."

Lena studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Just promise me you'll watch your back. If you get caught…I can't protect you."

Elian met her gaze, his resolve unwavering. "I don't need protection. I just need answers."

The fire crackled softly between them as they sat in silence, the weight of their shared secrets hanging heavily in the air.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of small footsteps shuffling closer. Elian and Lena turned to see the rest of the children returning from their scavenging trip, their faces streaked with dirt but their expressions lively.

"Elian!" piped up Tobin, the youngest of the group. He shuffled forward hesitantly, clutching a small bundle of bread crusts to his chest. His wide eyes darted nervously between Elian and Lena. "We…we found some food," he said softly.

Elian smiled warmly, ruffling Tobin's hair. "Good job, Tobin. Let's see what you've got."

Behind him, Marla strode in with her usual cheerful energy, her confident steps and bright smile lighting up the dim shelter. She carried a sack slung over one shoulder, filled with a mix of half-rotten vegetables and scraps. "It's not a feast, but it's better than nothing!" she announced, dropping the sack onto the ground with a flourish. "Tobin here was amazing. He spotted the bread before anyone else."

Tobin's cheeks flushed, and he looked down at his feet. "It…it wasn't that hard," he mumbled.

"Don't be so modest," Marla said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've got sharp eyes, kid."

Elian chuckled, appreciating Marla's ability to lift the group's spirits. At seventeen, she was the oldest among them and often acted as a big sister to the others. Her optimism was infectious, and she had a knack for finding the silver lining in even the direst situations.

"Jace didn't come back with you?" Elian asked, scanning the group.

Marla shook her head. "He's scouting another area. Said he'd meet us back here later."

Elian nodded, trusting Jace's instincts. The tall, wiry boy was their strategist, always planning their movements with precision.

As the children settled in, Elian distributed the food evenly among them, ensuring everyone got their fair share. He watched them eat with a mix of affection and responsibility. Tobin, shy and timid, clung to Marla's side, his small hands clutching his bread tightly. Marla, ever the optimist, regaled the group with stories of her imagined adventures beyond Ironhold, her laughter filling the air and easing the tension.

Beyond their small circle, the sprawling city of Ironhold loomed, its technological might dominating the skyline. The monarchy's control over advanced steam-powered machinery and intricate clockwork devices was evident in every towering spire and mechanized transport. Yet, this same technological prowess only deepened the divide between the city's elite and its impoverished underbelly. For those like Elian and the children, survival was a daily struggle in the shadow of Ironhold's gleaming facades.

"We'll make it through this," Elian thought to himself as he watched them. For now, his powers and his mission would remain his secret, but the bond he shared with these children gave him strength. Whatever lay ahead, he knew he wouldn't face it alone.