I tightened the knot of my necktie and adjusted the collar until it sat straight.
The five-piece suit that Solaris sent fit perfectly.
Pale Aquamarine blue, tailored close to the body without feeling stiff. Underneath, a pale white shirt sat crisp against my skin, the cuffs aligned neatly at my wrists.
I faced the mirror.
For a mont, I just stared.
The reflection staring back looked... composed.
The blue suited more than I expected.
...
....
I looked left and right in the bathroom, even though I already knew no one was here.
Then, for reasons I will never justify, I stepped forward.
I planted one hand against the wall beside the mirror and leaned in.
I lowered my gaze slightly, tried to sharpen my expression, part my lips just enough to look mysterious and maybe even... dangerous?
"...You’ve been waiting for ?" I muttered to my own reflection.
The mirror version did the sa.
I shifted angles. Tilted my chin. Narrowed my eyes further.
No.
Too constipated.
I tried again.
"Stay close to tonight."
I imdiately felt my soul attempt to leave my body.
"Smack!"
"ha....."
I straightened, stared at myself for a full second, then lightly slapped my own cheek again.
"YOU cringey son of a cOOOWWW!!!!!."
"AhaHAHAHAhahaHA. omg I’m actually crazy."
I must be outof my mind, you
"FAherlesswasteofBREathableoxygenemotionallyUNstableaMOEBApretendingtObea protagonistSONAABIIIII-"
A knock stopped from my self-deprecation.
"You ready yet, Matt?" Nagi asked over the door.
"Uh- YEAH!, in a bit!"
I stepped back from the mirror as it had personally offended .
"Hah... what the hell am I even doing?"
I dragged a hand down my face.
Lots of people are literally going to die today.
And here I am.
Posing at myself.
Practicing dramatic pick-up lines.
I let out a slow breath.
"I must be truly out of my mind."
The reflection stared back, equally unimpressed.
I muttered under my breath.
Status Window.
_________________________________
〈 STATUS PANEL 〉
Na: Matthew Pier Salinin
Weaver: Conceptual Astute Weaver
Race: Human (Stabilized)
Core: Blue
Potential: SS
_________________________________
〈 STATS 〉
Strength: D
Endurance: D
Agility: E-
ThrumCapacity: A
ThrumRecovery: D
ThrumCircuit: D
Mind: C- (G- Verde’s Curse)
_________________________________
The only thing keeping from reaching Pawn Rank is my agility and my Mind stat.
Agility can be trained. With Verde’s growth factor circulating in my system, progress that takes others years, sotis decades, compresses into weeks for . If I push hard enough, I could close that gap before the month ends.
Mind stat is different.
It was originally set at C minus. On paper, that already qualifies for Rook Rank at awakening. I should have climbed steadily from there.
Instead, I accepted Finster’s curse.
Ever since then, there has been a quiet possibility lingering at the edge of every assessnt. That I may never even reach Pawn Rank.
Not because I lack power, but I need a sip of Solari’s blood like dehydrated sanguine.
I stepped out of the bathroom and began gathering my things. The storage ring Solaris reluctantly lent rested on the desk. I had to argue longer than I care to admit to get it.
Inside was a tent, water purification sheets, dical kits, spare clothing, salt, cooking utensils, and more.
Basically, everything needed for survival.
HI cannot stash food like at, fruit, or anything organic.
Storage detection arrays would be placed at the entrance of the ballroom tonight. Organic matter triggers the alert sequence.
It’s a proud day for the most prestigious school in the whole world after all.
Outsiders attend under the excuse of celebration.
rchant houses.
Minor officials.
Representatives of distant territories. They co smiling and bearing gifts, circling noble students who are still young enough to mistake flattery for respect and make them spit out promises that are made lightly at our current age.
Sponsorship offers. Invitations to future "collaborations." Quiet alignnts between noble factions through dance partners and shared wine.
And most importantly, scouting.
Tonight is where future generals, researchers, and political weapons are first evaluated under chandeliers instead of battlefields.
"So, who’s the unfortunate girl?" Nagi asked.
She stood there in a five-piece suit mirroring mine in cut, though hers carried a yellow and white the that made her look like walking sunlight.
Her violet hair was tied back, exposing sharp jade eyes that assessed once before she nodded.
"You would not believe even if I told you." I grabbed my gloves.
"How about you? Who did you manage to seduce?"
"I seduced nobody, you moron." She rolled her eyes.
"It’s Fanna. I originally planned to attend alone. She asked instead. I had no reason to refuse."
"Excuse . Fanna who?"
She stared at disapprovingly.
"Would you rember her if I said saffron colored hair?"
"...Do you realize how little that narrows it down?"
"Pointed ears. Pale skin."
"Oh. That non vegan elfolk that has a crush on you?"
Nagi’s expression flattened.
"Do you realize how racist we just sounded?"
"Oh, worry not. Back in my hotown, slurs are thrown left and right as expressions of endearnt rather than nouns."
She stared at .
"As much as I would love to continue this enlightening cultural exchange about your fascinating hotown," she said dryly, checking the ti on her wrist,
"I promised Fanna I would pick her up by six thirty."
"Sure, no worries. Also, make sure to bring so protection."
"...Protection?"
"Nothing. I ant just try not to get her pregnant."
"Moron!"
"BANG!"
The door slamd in my face hard enough to rattle the hinges.
I blinked at my own reflection in the polished wood for a second.
...I think I’m starting to feel like Tasora.
I went back inside and opened my drawer, pulling out sunscreen, soap, and a small bottle of shampoo. I hesitated, then placed them inside the storage ring one by one.
The ring shimred faintly as it accepted each item.
As I closed the drawer, a folded piece of paper slipped free and drifted to the floor.
I frowned and picked it up.
There were only four words written on it.
"This is his story."
?
...That’s my handwriting.
When did I write this?
I turned the paper over.
Blank.
A faint vibration stirred beneath my chest pocket as my phone began to ring.
I glanced at the screen.
Solaris.
I accepted the call.
"Where are you, Matt?"
"At the dorms."
"I am at the entrance in a black limousine. Plate number zero one three nine."
"Alright. I’ll be right there."
"Stay on the call," she added.
"There are multiple black limousines. I refuse to have my partner wandering from vehicle to vehicle like a beggar requesting alms."
"Thank you for your inconsiderate yet considerate attention toward , Princess."
.....
"Solaris."
"Huh?"
"I told you. You may call Solaris."
Right.
"Oh yeah. I’ll be right down, Solaris."
Before leaving, I looked once more at the note.
"This is his story."
A strange unease lingered in my chest. I folded it and placed it inside the storage ring along with the soap and sunscreen.
Then I headed downstairs.
Outside, a row of black limousines lined the academy gates, polished to mirror shine.
Students in formal wear gathered near each other, waiting to escort their partners to the Astraea Rembrance Ball.
Engines humd softly. Doors opened and closed. Laughter drifted through the evening air.
"I am to your left," Solaris’ voice ca through the phone. "Lowering the window."
A tinted window slid down smoothly.
I saw her.
"I see you," I replied, ending the call.
I stepped toward the limousine and opened the door.
And there she was.
Blue hair cascading over one shoulder. A gown of deep blue threaded with faint silver patterns that shimred like constellations when she shifted. Gloves fitted perfectly along her arms.
She looked less like a student and more like sothing sculpted by the gods out of arrogance and light.
I slid into the seat across from her.
The door shut.
For a mont, neither of us spoke.
"...You are staring," she said calmly.
"Just confirming sothing."
"And what would that be?"
"That the academy did not accidentally replace my partner with a goddess."
She held my gaze.
"I assure you," she said, folding her hands elegantly over her lap,
"I have always been this divine."
"Very humble," I remarked.
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