Chapter 461
Intent, who had been curled in a fetal position until now, stretched his body and rose to stand upright, his eyes opening wide with a sharp, piercing gaze.
From the center of his being radiated waves of guidance—no longer gentle, but firm commands that instructed every particle of Aldraya's essence to take its proper place, to perform its correct function, to become a harmonious part of a greater orchestral existence.
And Ambition, who had been leaning against an invisible wall with a mysterious smile, now stood and stepped forward toward Aldraya's white light.
For the first time, she did not merely emit energy from afar, but became directly involved—her hand reaching out to touch the surface of that light, gently yet meaningfully.
From that touch flowed something different, something not given by the other three aspects.
An empowering energy that not only stabilized Aldraya, but also made her feel that becoming part of this unity was an honor, a pride, the highest achievement any being across all layers of reality could attain.
An energy that whispered that her hatred toward Ilux did not need to be forgotten, did not need to be abandoned, but could be stored safely—in a place that would not disrupt the synchronization process, in a corner of existence that would remain preserved until the time came for it to be used.
"A forced smile—a smile that tries to say that everything is fine."
After ensuring that the depths of his consciousness had returned to calm, after sensing that RWIA had worked to its fullest and that Aldraya had begun to rest within a more stable synchronization process, Theo shifted his focus back to the surface—to the real world where Ilux Rediona still sat alone in a quiet corner of the cafeteria.
His gaze returned to that young man, to the figure who had never left his observation despite his attention being briefly divided by internal turmoil.
Ilux had arrived at the cafeteria some time ago, successfully retrieved his order without incident, and chosen a seat in the farthest corner—far from the crowd, easy to overlook by anyone who did not deliberately glance his way.
A simple plate of food and a glass of cold drink lay before him, and for a moment, the atmosphere appeared peaceful.
He ate with slow movements, like someone who did not truly enjoy the food yet still had to eat because his body required energy.
Spoon after spoon was lifted to his mouth, chewed lazily, swallowed with effort.
Six bites had passed—six cycles of chewing and swallowing, monotonous, six proofs that even as the world around him moved in endless noise, Ilux remained within his own world—a silent world, a wounded world, a world he did not wish anyone to enter.
But that fragile peace did not last long.
As if it were an unavoidable fate, as if it had been written since the beginning of time by an unseen hand, chaos arrived uninvited.
A student walking past Ilux's table deliberately bumped into his drink—hard enough to nearly knock it over, though Ilux managed to catch it at the last second with quick reflexes.
Snickers immediately followed from the group, clearly meant to mock, to demean, to show that what had just occurred was not an accident, but a deliberate act.
Ilux did not react.
He simply pulled the glass closer to his body, shielding it from wandering hands that might try again.
But shielding did not mean stopping, and those students would not stop simply because their target gave no satisfying reaction.
Minutes later, the same—or perhaps different—students passed by again, and this time the bump was harder, more certain, more intentional.
The glass fell.
Water spilled across the table, splashing onto the edge of Ilux's sleeve before he could pull his hand away.
Laughter erupted again—louder, longer, more satisfied.
And Ilux remained silent, still unresponsive, still trying to restrain a patience that had reached its limit but had not yet erupted.
Theo watched it all from behind the pillar, beneath the invisible cloak that concealed his presence.
His sharp eyes captured every subtle detail others might have missed.
He saw how Ilux's jaw tightened each time the mocking laughter echoed.
How his fingers clenched beneath the table even as he appeared calm on the surface.
How his chest rose and fell more rapidly than usual, a sign that his heartbeat was accelerating under suppressed anger.
He saw how Ilux tried to smile—a smile meant to show that he was unaffected, that the mockery did not reach him, that he was stronger than all of it.
But the smile failed, because beneath it lay subtle tremors that could not be fully concealed—tremors that revealed the storm of anger within, struggling not to erupt.
And perhaps because that smile failed to deceive, perhaps because the students sensed the fire still burning within him, or perhaps because hatred demands a more brutal expression than mere bumps and laughter—something else suddenly happened.
No longer just bumps that spilled drinks, no longer mere mockery that hurt the ears—but a throw.
Food, drinks—everything on their table suddenly flew into the air, dancing briefly under the cafeteria lights before crashing down, showering Ilux and the surrounding area in perfect chaos.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
Ilux sat frozen in his chair, his body covered in scattered cafeteria food clinging to his hair, clothes, everywhere.
Cold liquid soaked into his skin, seeping into the fabric of his clothes, leaving damp stains that would be difficult to explain if questioned.
Around him, laughter exploded—not the quiet snickers from before, but loud, echoing laughter that filled the entire cafeteria, drawing the attention of everyone who had not yet witnessed the scene.
And in the midst of it all, in the center of such blatant public humiliation, beyond the limits of what should be tolerable, something inside Ilux finally snapped.
His hand slammed onto the table with full force, producing a loud sound that briefly rivaled the surrounding laughter.
From his mouth came a torrent of harsh, furious curses—words filled with anger that had been suppressed for far too long.
Curses directed not only at those who threw the food, but at everyone around him—those who laughed, those who merely watched, those who had never cared about him from the very beginning.
The fire once hidden behind a false smile finally erupted, consuming every restraint he had struggled to maintain, leaving behind ashes of regret he had not yet felt, for anger still dominated every corner of his consciousness.
But that outburst did not unfold as he wished.
Because his curses spared no one, because his anger burned everything within reach, even students who had not participated in the attack were provoked.
To be continued…