An embossed monument sign titled: "Saint Anthony's Orphanage" sat outside the old-fashioned red brick building. Its appearance was that of a remodeled elementary school with a homely touch.

The weather could be described as, "wonderful," with intermittent winds and spitting rain that persisted nearly throughout the entire day till the current time.

Through the muffled pitter-patter of raindrops kissing the roof, Mr. Hugh—the orphanage's owner—kindly addressed Viktor,

"You know,–" He said, while walking his fingers through the files in his cabinet, "–when we first got you, I was quite surprised. Superman—Mr. Goliah himself—came to me with you in his arms…"

Trailing off, he slid a folder out and began again, "I was under strict orders from not just him, but the FBI, CIA, et cetera, to keep a very large eye on you. Said you came from a family of supervillains, but it's not like you did anything wrong in my eyes."

Giving the rather thick document one last glance over before he handed it to Viktor, he resumed,"I called you to my office tonight not just because you're an adult, but because as you know; we at the orphanage have a long-standing tradition of gifting our kids with a sort of farewell gift.

"In that folder, you'll find just about all I can tell you regarding the information on your real family; things like their names, and what you've inherited from them.

"The moving truck you requested should be here tomorrow, along with some helpers to make things easy. I know you probably don't really think much of us in terms of a real family, but do know that you're always welcome to come back at any time, powered or not."

Looking out the window with a melancholic expression while Viktor began reading, Hugh sat with linked fingers for a period in silence.

Nature's orchestra dampened as he picked back up, "If it means anything, I stopped your surveillance only a few years in. Your test results came back perfectly normal, albeit bearing some extremely minor incongruencies.

"Your parent's last address should be there, along with the location of their graves if you wish to visit them. I understand it's difficult to take all of this in at once, but we'll always be here for you if you need us."

Viktor silently nodded his head before turning around and walking towards the door.

Hugh halted him mid-step through the door with one last warning: "–And Viktor… Please be careful around magic…"

Like passing ghosts through a haunted house, Viktor's thoughts faded in and out. Almost all 18 years of his life had he spent at that damned place, and not a single soul kept in touch. Friends were always passing, but the orphanage staff for the most part stayed the same throughout the years. Nevertheless, his position ever remained; alone. It sadly wasn't long till he decided to give up and stop trying to make any altogether.

He became enamored with the simplicity of solus. Superglued to his screens and books, his skin became paler by the day. It didn't help that his educational material was given the green light to be learned all by himself. He was just one of many special exceptions that resided within the institution over the years; and as long as he did well and passed his tests, then they didn't mind. Such things as powers or abilities meant you were monitored more, and held to stricter standards. So he knew for certain that as far as they were concerned, he was perfectly normal. Well... Almost normal.

He always wondered what it'd be like one day to simply vanish. Run away, and leave the soft and enticing comfort of the provisionally "free" orphanage for something—anything—else. But the unknown was scary. He knew the orphanage and the small area around it; and while it wasn't exactly doing him any harm, it wasn't doing him any good either. He wanted to have something real that he could call his own. Something beyond petty academic scores, toys, game achievements, or even his online friends he'd never met before.

So he walked, ever so gingerly through the halls he knew so well; glancing at passing doors and windows on either side, before opening an exit door at the end of the hall. Careful not to wake anyone up in the process, he closed it behind him and sat upon the steps below.

Sighing through the now vocal wind and rain as he looked up at the full moon slipping through the clouds and glittering drops above, there was only one thought left in his mind: "So this is it, huh?" Tilting his eyes and face to the right, Viktor decided to silently stare at—or rather through—the female apparition hovering next to him.

Friday, August 4th, 2034, 10:38 ante merīdiem (AM). Overcast and raining all the same, Viktor was just beginning to rouse himself from yet another peaceful sleep. His room—similar to his life—was in an ordered disarray with various belongings scattered about the area. He hadn't finished packing his personal Items the night before, and so the perfect storm of organizational sorting became a disaster frozen in time.

An elegant and practiced female voice broke him from his revelry with a simple yet firm, "Good morning."

Pausing in brief confusion, rubbing his eyes, and pinching his brows, Viktor was rifling through his memories for who could be in his room, and for what reason so early. He knew that it was his birthday—hence the-half packed boxes spelling his departure—but it's not like this has ever happened before.

Conceding to his curiosity, he curved his face towards the voice which had spoken earlier, delivering a confused and weak, "Hmm?"

Blinking and attempting to focus his vision towards the figure in his room, her features finally revealed themselves to him.

Her humanoid form was a transparent shade of milky white-blue, with features resembling that of a beautiful textbook-style Caucasian secretary in a suit with glasses. An ethereal ebb and flow followed her soft bobbing esoterically in the air.

"What the…"

Squinting and stunned, they both shared a brief stare; her cloudy pupilless eyes meeting his fresh green, the apparition introduced herself:

"I understand that today is your eighteenth birthday—and that I've suddenly appeared before you—but before you panic, I'd prefer it if you could proceed as if I'm not here for now."

Pausing first to gauge his reaction, she continued after he stopped for a moment to think about what just happened, warily got up with caution, turned on his desktop computer, and finally sat down.

"Good. Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Irene Clemens and I am in fact a ghost, not a banshee. I worked for your father, Avante when he was still alive."

Noticing the blank look of incomprehension on his face, she responded, "It appears as though you are not aware…Give me a simple nod if you'd like to hear more. If not, then I ca–"

Cutting her off mid sentence with a nod, Viktor continued lazily looking through memes and messaging his friends like it was any other day.

Irene resumed anew, "Your father, and nearly all the ilk before him were something people today might refer to as magicians, or sorcerers; it's actually one of the reasons you can even see me right now."

Nodding her head after Viktor sharply turned in surprise, she progressed, "Yes, Viktor, that Avante."

The Avante?! He thought to himself.

What?! He and all his family were decimated by Goliah and the Big Eight!

"What? Did you think the names in that folder were wrong?" She asked, looking at it.

Clearly baffled, he gathered what remained of his broken thoughts to reply, "Yea—I mean, sure, but not him! He died ages ago! And if what Hugh said is right, then his arch nemesis supposedly carried me here!"

The glow of her pupils momentarily darkened as she remarked off-handedly, "Yes, it's a miracle you're even alive. By what means he was able to do so however, is beyond me."

Realigning her face to meet his blinking and dazed, she took in an empty breath to regain her luster.

"Nonetheless, you are here, and so must I be. I was given the heavy task of carrying this gift and knowledge, relinquishing them only once you reached this world's standards of maturity and adulthood." She relayed, offering her murky bluish hand.

Upon it stood a small white gift box with golden-laced ribbon no larger than the size of her sleek palm.

Viktor reached out to grab it in fascination and glee, only to be met with disappointment; the box went up in a whitish smoke that twirled around his empty fingers before vanishing.

What?

Amusement graced her nigh flawless face as Irene clasped her hands together, forming a more dignified and proper pose.

"Fret not, the gift is still yours—I merely had to hide it, is all. You'll find it in your closet, just as you saw. Don't worry about opening it now though, as much as I know you'd like to. With all due respect, it's usage is beyond your current capabilities." She voiced, readjusting her glasses.

Viktor pleaded, "Can't I at least see it though?"

"Absolutely, just not at this moment." She answered.

A sudden, "Knock-knock!"

Came from Viktor's door, catching him off guard. He was still reeling from his strange encounter and information dump with Irene when he swiveled his chair, got up, and opened the door.

"Happy birthday Viktor!" Announced the room server standing on the other side.

Presenting Victor's meal with his free hand, he served him through Inquiry, "I know you have a sweet tooth, so I managed to sneak you a slice of your favorite Boston cream pie with your breakfast! Would you like me to lift your room's policy for today?"

"Thanks! And no, it's fine as-is." Viktor responded kindly.

Picking up the birthday themed decorative breakfast tray—whose legs unfolded once in the air—and setting it aside, the server straightened himself and concluded before closing the door behind him, "If there's anything else at all you want today, then feel free to ask! Enjoy your meal!"

Slicing through the morning's ambient song outside with his rapid eating, Viktor's speed made one think that food could grow legs; a valid criticism in such a strange time.

Phased yet unfazed, Irene stood picturesquely in the middle of the closed door to his room, watching him eat silently.

Waiting till his meal was finished, she picked an opportune moment and retraced where she left off, "My brief inspection of your room has revealed that the hidden devices used to monitor you are inactive for now, so I can only be heard from and seen by you as far as I'm aware. Feel free to open your gift!"

Viktor was content with sitting back in his chair for the moment, but upon hearing her words grace his ear began feeling the hot agitating flames of curiosity ignite within him.

Delaying no longer, he quickly went towards his closet where she had said it was located and ruffled around until he found the small trinket he was shown earlier. It had a surprising heft relative to its size, similar to that of maybe a marble or rock.

He turned towards her once more with a tense mind, almost as if silently asking for permission.

She generously accepted.

"Go ahead!"

Thoughts and ideas filled his mind-space of what it could contain. An artifact of some sort? A superpower granting concoction? But among those, his most hesitant; Avante's necklace—?

As the ribbons were plucked and glided off, the top removed, and filling extracted, his eyes were met with a second shade of blue orb that day; fastened by a gold chain.

It is. He concluded with open eyes and mouth.

"What does it do?!" He asked anyway, though he had a general idea.

"It's called the, 'Phylacterium de Apsída,' and it's purpose is to supply Mana, something like a generator in your case."

"Oh, nice! Is there like some system of measurement for it—like a stored unit amount?"

Irene slid her pursed lips to the side with wandering eyes before answering, "Not that I know of, no. It just draws Mana on command from far-off. You'd have to follow the source somehow, but that's nearly impossible considering its complexity."

Huh. Ok.

"So I've seen Avante use it before, and its obviously quite powerful, but exactly how powerful?"

"Depends on the preparation. You can always physically store Mana for later. But if you're speaking in terms of simple output then maybe something like your sun? I'm not sure, it's been a short while since I've roamed this planet."

Immediately he dropped it back into the box before staring at Irene like she was insane.

"Th—The sun?!!" He nearly screamed, awkwardly tapering off.

"What're you, nuts?!!"

Irene adopted a shushing motion, placing her finger over her ethereal soft lips before calmly replying, "Like I said, you have not the current capabilities to even utilize it in the first place."

Viktor simply stared at the box in front of himself with anxiety, rubbing his eyes and cheeks.

What the fuuuuucckkk!?

No wonder Avante could just keep casting spells and pulling things out of his ass! He was a walking reactor! How the hell...?!

"If you'd like, I can explain some of the origins of Mana and magic." Irene innocently added.

Placing the lid back onto the box with a defeated sigh, he slowly brought his head up to look at her through his messy draped hair before agreeing,

"Sure."

A devilishly small smirk worked itself upon her flawless face as she began her rehearsed monologue; a malevolent spirit with vengeance, onwards throughout the remainder of his special day.

From magic she moved onwards to history and lineage, stating things he didn't know and reminiscing about previous events that she had been apart of.

Avante Aemilii Akakios and Eva Ariko Akakios (formerly Branković)—unlike in the files he was given—were his parent's real names, but now forever his to keep. Finally, he could place himself within the world and find out just who he was, and where he came from. It had always annoyed him that he never knew anything regarding his real family.

Who would've thought that his parents were one of the most notorious villains just a mere decade or two ago? It was liberating, amazing, but also disappointing at the same time. At least now he knew why his parents were branded villains going by what Irene had told him.

The boxes in his room were now packed, and his destination was decided. All that remained was just to figure out where to go once there.

It was late at night as he sat on the wet concrete steps lining one of the building's many exit doors and leaned back, facing his new ghostly acquaintance. To anyone else he might've just been talking to himself whilst admiring the moon that night, perhaps a strange quirk or power at work.

Irene stood formally beside him; her bewitching form only further enchanted by the satellite's soft glow—almost demanding his attention.

Closing her eyes and sighing, she said her last as she begun to slowly fade from his sight, "You will do well to remember my name, but even better to remember my advice... Goodbye, and—good night, Viktor."

The scene was picturesque, and the night—similar to his journey—had just begun.