"Where did professor Spellworth take you?"
Slavic fell into step beside Rush the moment he crossed the training ground entrance, adjusting his glasses.
"Headmistress's office," Rush said.
Slavic's face turned to Rush.
"That's not standard protocol for a device malfunction."
Rush kept walking.
"The Appraiser broke while I was using it."
Slavic frowned slightly.
"Devices like that don't just break."
Rush didn't answer.
A second of silence passed. Slavic studied him.
Ethan was already at the designated practice area, standing with his arms crossed. He looked at Rush once — sharp, assessing — then at Slavic.
"What's your core type?" Slavic asked.
"First stage Verdant."
Slavic stopped walking.
"...Truly."
"That's what was recorded in the Appraiser."
A pause.
Slavic glanced down.
"Mine is first stage as well. Ethan has second stage Verdant."
Rush looked at Ethan.
Ethan gave a single nod. No explanation.
"Jennifer has third stage," Slavic continued. "Richard too. Nia has first stage–with us. "
He looked at Richard.
"Interesting distribution."
Rush said nothing. He stepped into position as the training ground came into view.
The door swung open.
Professor Claire Argonean entered with measured authority, a staff resting in her hands.
"Foundation positions," she said. "Two lines. Now."
The session was an hour of controlled mana output drills.
Rush moved with careful precision — drawing from the core, channeling through the body, releasing through fixed points. Every thread of mana passed through the Khaos Blocker, filtered, reduced and reshaped.
I can feel my mana output has increased, Rush thought. Is it because of the repair?
Beelzebub surfaced in his head.
Yes it is. The more your core stability increases, the more your output will.
Nothing more.
Midway through the sequence, Rush's output flickered — just slightly.
The mana left his hand cleaner than before—denser, sharper, controlled with less effort than it should have required.
A fraction too fast. A fraction too clean.
Rush corrected it instantly.
But not before—
A gaze.
He didn't look directly, but he felt it.
Richard.
Two rows over, Richard continued his drills with more control than before. Less wasted motion. Less excess output.
More disciplined.
More contained.
Watching.
Not openly. Not obviously.
But watching.
Rush adjusted his breathing and continued.
Professor Argonean dismissed them with brisk efficiency.
Students broke into clusters, conversations rising in low waves. Rush collected his coat and walked east without a word.
The abandoned courtyard was quiet.
Rush sat at the center of the cracked stone, legs crossed, coat folded beside him. The willow shifted gently in the afternoon breeze. Moisture still clung to the moss between the stones.
He closed his eyes and focused.
I have questions.
A pause.
You always do.
Today, I want answers.
Something ancient shifted within him. Not movement — alignment.
Ask.
What are you?
I have told you. I am a construct.
You told me what you do. Rush's tone remained even. I'm asking what you are.
Silence.
Then—
You can think of me as an entity, Beelzebub said. Independent and distinct but I was created.
A pause followed. Longer this time.
My earliest records are fragmented. Memories sealed or absent. I know I existed before this world.
Another pause.
The rest is missing.
And who created you?
That information is sealed. You are currently at Archive Level One. Certain knowledge only becomes accessible as your strength increases and our synchronization deepens. My creator's identity is among that knowledge.
Why is it sealed?
I don't know. A pause that felt heavier than most. That answer may also be locked.
So some things are gone and some are waiting.
Yes.
Rush absorbed that distinction carefully.
You said you were independent, distinct, does that mean you can exist without me?
No. I cannot. I'm independent personality, independent power but I'm independent with you.
Rush let that settle.
So I have to be capable and powerful enough to know more about you?
Yes.
Rush exhaled slowly.
Why me?
I did not choose you. The response was immediate. Your Life Signature resonated with my architecture. Synchronization occurred. It was compatibility, not selection.
So it was an accident.
Whether compatibility and accident are the same thing depends on your definition of coincidence.
Do you believe in coincidence?
No.
Rush was quiet for a moment.
Are you a friend or a foe?
Silence.
Longer than before.
Those are imprecise categories,Beelzebub said at last. I am bound to your survival. Your death terminates me.
A second later—
But I understand the difference between something that preserves you and something that would see you destroyed.
I am the former.
Whether that makes me a friend is your definition to make. Not mine.
That's not the same as being on my side, Rush said.
No. But it's more reliable.
Rush let out a slow breath.
One more question.
Ask.
The Appraiser. You moved without warning.
A pause.
Why then?
Silence stretched.
Then—
Becauseit's necessary.
Not explanation.
Statement.
Rush's jaw tightened.
Explain.
You're surrounded by people stronger than yourself. It's not good. And i want us to survive.
Rush said nothing.
Then—
The device contained a pure mana source. A viable opportunity. I acted because the cost of inaction exceeded the cost of intervention.
Rush opened his eyes briefly. Closed them again.
Next time...
I'll make you aware of it. Beelzebub completed his thought.
Rush opened his eyes.
Rush opened his eyes.
The courtyard was still. The shadows had lengthened across the stone.
He sat with the quiet for a moment.
Then footsteps approached.
Jennifer stepped through the willow branches and stopped.
"You meditate," she said.
"Sometimes."
She studied the courtyard, then sat on the low stone wall.
Silence settled between them.
"What are you actually doing out here?" she asked.
"Thinking."
"About?"
Rush looked at her.
"Things I don't have answers to yet."
"There will always be unanswered questions."
Rush considered that.
"What do you want from the Academy?" she asked. "Don't give me the standard answer."
Rush thought of something.
A dream or a memory. Unknown faces. Unknown creatures. The blood dripping from his hands.
Of loss.
Of hands slipping away.
Of being too late.
He said none of it.
"To be strong enough," he said.
Jennifer watched him.
"Strong enough for what?"
"For whatever comes."
A pause.
"You're difficult to read," she said.
"I've been told."
"It's not a complaint." A beat. "Just an observation."
She stood, brushing moss from her sleeve.
"Most people are legible within a week," she said. "You're not."
Rush didn't reply.
"Is that a problem?" he asked.
She looked at him — something curious behind her eyes.
"Not yet."
She left through the willow branches.
Night settled over the Academy.
The eastern archive cast long shadows across the courtyard.
Within that darkness, a figure stood.
Still.
Watching.
A faint glow pulsed in his hand.
"Report."
"Progress," the boy said. "I have been observing the target since arrival."
The orb remained silent.
"His physical performance contradicts his mana output entirely."
A pause.
"Reaction speed. Spatial awareness. Movement precision. All exceed expected thresholds."
The orb pulsed once.
"You believe he carries it."
"I believe something is augmenting him," the boy said. "Internally. Not external. Nothing visible."
He turned the orb slowly.
"I saw his eyes changing color naturally sometimes."
Silence.
"You are certain."
"Certain enough to proceed carefully. Not enough to act."
"Then accelerate."
A pause.
"There is a group training exercise next month," the boy said. "External grounds. Reduced supervision. First viable window."
"And those around him?"
The boy's gaze shifted toward the distant dormitories.
"I've already accounted for that."
The orb pulsed faintly.
"Do not underestimate him. If the artifact is genuine—"
"I'm not underestimating him," the boy said. Calm. Flat. Certain.
"That's why I haven't moved."
Silence.
Then—
"Proceed. Carefully. If anyone recognises you, you're dead. Especially Worldword."
"Understood."
The light vanished.
The boy remained in the dark a moment longer.
Then turned—
And disappeared into shadow.