Nero spent the entire night meditating, not sleeping for a single wink. Or at least, that is what it seemed. Nero spent the entire night maintaining peak vigilance. Unity had already proven that he was not totally secure even within his prison cell, and with his verdict on the horizon, these would be his last few hours of imprisonment.
That also meant that if anyone wished to harm him before he was free, this would be the time.
So, in truth, while he maintained a guise of meditation through the night, he was actually waiting for something to happen. Fortunately, there was no disturbance throughout the night. The first rays or early morning shone through the window, bringing with it many new beginnings.
A few hours after dawn, a lone guard came to Nero's cell, not looking nearly as surly as the guards from the day prior.
"Hey kid, looks like you're free to go," the guard said as he opened the door and stood aside. "That's pretty rare, you know. Most of the time, if a person comes as far as a prison cell, then they're as good as sentenced. You're actually the first person I've seen get off scot free."
"I was just here due to a misunderstanding," Nero said modestly. Regardless of what he actually thought, he could not really go around throwing accusations.
"I'm glad it got all sorted out. I heard some of the guys back from break say something about corrupt judges. Apparently, it's the talk of the town in the city. I don't get off for a few more days, so I'll have to wait till I get to hear all the drama."
The guard was quite talkative, and on the short journey from Nero's cell to the processing centre discussed everything from corruption to modern farming trends, and everything in between. Apparently, the guard's last posting had been at a food processing centre, so he knew a fair bit about farming.
Nero mostly listened, and offered an occasional acknowledging word or two. It was rare to find such talkative people amongst those who had already served their mandatory service. Of course, much like this man, his father had been an exception…
"Nero!" a familiar voice yelled across the prison yard, and Nero looked filled with both embarrassed shock and excitement. A part of him was also in disbelief, because he knew he was about to relive an embarrassing memory from his middle school years.
"Nero, over here!" a man yelled, waving his hand as widely as he could, afraid that the whole prison might not see him. The ridiculous thing was that he was standing inside the processing facility, behind the glass, yet for some reason his voice carried through as if the numerous barriers between them didn't exist.
"You know that guy?" the guard asked with a strange expression.
"Yeah. That's my dad," Nero said with a straight face. If he let anyone know he was embarrassed, it would only be worse. Part of the reason why Nero was so psychologically strong is because he had to endure his father's constant attempts to embarrass him throughout his life.
His dad was here… to pick him up from prison. For a moment, Nero turned and looked back. Was freedom really worth it? Prison hadn't been so bad. But unfortunately, unless there were special circumstances, all prisoners were only here for a short stay. It was common knowledge that sooner or later, all criminals were sent to cursed zones to fight and die.
Or live, and come back a hero.
Suppressing his urge to sigh, Nero entered the processing centre, ignoring the fact that there were at least a dozen strangers looking at him.
"Don't worry Nero, I'm here now," Edwards voice carried through the numerous blockades that were supposed to separate prisoners and those on the outside. "If anyone tried to bully you, let me know and I'll kick their ass! I hope no uncles tried to touch you in strange places."
Nero had previously felt his body pierced and invaded by a living tentacle monster, yet this felt much more painful.
The guard who was escorting Nero coughed, and then took a wide step aside, distancing himself from Nero. Nero pretended not to notice.
His father continued to talk as he went through the processing to be released - though for some inexplicable reason, he was allowed to cut the line and skip right to the front. It totally wasn't because even the guards wanted his father gone.
"Nero Grant, though you have been judged as not guilty, you have been assigned six months of military service before you are completely free. Your service will begin in eight days in Fordham base, and if you do not report to the base in time, for any reason, you will be judged as having tried to escape service, and will be arrested once more.
Do you understand?" asked the guard who was handling his exit paperwork.
There were a number of formalities he went through, and after he signed for the small box that contained all his personal belongings that the prison had held, he was released into the custody of his father. Nero suspected that this was not exactly protocol, but his father had a way of getting around that.
Nero looked at the processing officer reluctantly, wishing that the process took longer, but there was really nothing left for him to do. Under the gaze of everyone in that office, guards and prisoners included, Nero carried his box through the security room towards the exit, where his father was waiting.
"Look at you, my young boy, all grown up," Edward said, towering over Nero. The man still looked remarkably unimpressive despite his impressive height, golden eyes, and relatively handsome looks. Nero had always suspected that his father's mundane appearance was something he purposefully presented to the world. It had to be.
How could an ordinary guy impress his mother, whose standards were higher than the sky?
The answer was, despite pretending like he was an average Joe, Nero knew that his father was not so ordinary.
"They grow up so fast," Edward said, turning to look towards a guard who was standing nearby. "Just a short while ago he was synchronising, and moving into the school hostel. It's because he wanted to train, he said. Look at him now, a war veteran who's also served hard time. I wouldn't be surprised if he got some tattoos as souvenirs while he was in there."
Nero stiffened. So his father knew about his back tattoos. Well, of course he did. They were not exactly subtle.
"What's with that look?" Edward asked as he rubbed his chin and scrunched his brows.
Nero coughed, as if clearing his throat, and said, "In fact, I did get some tattoos…"
"That's a good joke," Edward suddenly said as he locked Nero in a chokehold and rubbed his knuckles against his head. Nero tried to struggle. Genuinely, he really did. But even with all the improvements he had undergone, he could not put up a fight against an Arcanist.
"I know for a fact that I didn't raise a child who would just up and go get tattoos while he's still a minor."
"I'm not a minor anymore! I got my ID card and…" Nero suddenly started to explain as he was struck by an ominous feeling. He knew what was coming, he just hoped he was wrong.
"Oh, what's this?" Edward said, as he peered at the black lines of his tattoo that touched the base of his neck. "Looks like you have some dirt on you. Don't worry, I'll get it."
"Listen, dad, let me explain…"
"Strange, why isn't this dirt coming off?"
"Look, I had a very good reason…" Nero tried to explain to his father, nervousness kicking in. Even against the tide of cursed blood, Nero maintained a calm state of mind, but there was just something about his father that broke past all his defences.
"Wait a minute, is this a tattoo?"
"I went to see Irene and…"
Nero suddenly faltered, as his father's grip around his neck loosened. The teenager didn't wait. He hit his entire body in blue flames and made a run for it as fast as he could, even going as far as manipulating his internal aether.
But it was for naught. He seemed to lose control of his blue flames, as they flew off from his body and nestled into the small, golden flame in his father's hand, leaving his body undefended.
No matter how fast he ran, he couldn't run faster than parental love, also known as a good ass-whopping, which is why, in plain view of a dozen guards, Nero felt a solid kick landing on his left buttock, throwing him in the air.
"What are you doing?" he roared.
"I'm kicking your butt!" Edward exclaimed.
"You're not supposed to kick the actual butt!" Nero yelled as he continued to run, but Edward Grant was a man who did as he pleased. Soon, another kick landed on Nero's right buttock!