My consciousness returned slowly, like a radio being tuned back into a station. The first thing I became aware of wasn't pain, or light, or voices; it was the urge to speak. A reflex, really.
Whenever I woke up somewhere unfamiliar, I always wanted to say the same line. It was half a joke, half a habit, something I'd picked up long before coming here.
"Unrecognizable ceiling… where am I?"
The words almost made it out.
Before it was Kaye, then Éclair, and instinctively, I shut my mouth. Even if I had said it, it wouldn't have landed the same way. Because when my eyes finally opened, the ceiling was very recognizable.
It was the dorm.
I pushed myself upright, the motion surprisingly easy. My body felt heavy, but not broken. The kind of tired that sat deep in the bones rather than screaming from any one place.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, swaying slightly before my balance returned.
The glass wall stretched across one side of the room, just like always. Beyond it, the sky was tinged with orange and soft purple.
Late afternoon. Maybe four or five.
I looked down at myself.
I was still wearing my uniform.
It was in rough shape with burn marks, torn fabric, dark stains that had already dried stiff. Still, beneath it, my body felt… fine. Too fine, considering what had happened. I raised my hand, turning it over slowly.
The chunk of flesh that had been missing was gone.
I flexed my fingers a few times, watching them move without resistance.
So they'd healed us first.
I exhaled quietly and crossed the room, my footsteps soft against the floor. On the far side, Nagi was asleep.
Good. At least she was alright.
I moved carefully so I wouldn't wake her and headed for the bathroom. The mirror reflected a version of me that looked more handsome than it should have, but with dark circles under my eyes, hair flattened and singed at the ends, and expression dull.
I washed my face, then my arms, then took a proper shower, letting the water run until the stiffness began to ease.
By the time I changed into civilian clothes, the sky outside had deepened further into gold.
Hunger crept up on me ....
When you're tired and drained, heavy food feels wrong. What I wanted was something simple. Something warm.
Soup.
I went to the pantry and checked what we had.
Onions, stock, seasoning. Simple onion soup. I set about slicing the onions, the knife tapping rhythmically against the board as the pieces piled up.
As my hands worked, my mind wandered back to what had happened earlier.
The reason we were here, in our dorms instead of the hospital, was probably not the same as in the novel.
They always had Astute Weavers on standby during dangerous exams, healers ready to step in the moment things went too far. In the original story, we were supposed to wake up in hospital beds, bandaged and monitored.
But something had changed.
Finster had broken the barrier.
Not just damaged it. Broken it. A barrier made by Éclair, no less.
What I assumed was this: instead of calling in multiple healers and creating a scene, they'd brought in Ana alone, the best healer in the academy. If anyone could restore us quickly and quietly, it was her. Heal us, send us back to our dorms, and keep things contained.
Why the dorms instead of the hospital?
The answer was obvious. If students woke up in the hospital, there would be questions. Complaints. Stories spreading about how the first exam nearly roasted us alive. Doctors and instructors are getting dragged into it. Attention they didn't want.
Sending us back here avoided all of that.
It also meant Finster could be investigated without witnesses.
I stirred the onions as they softened, the smell filling the room.
I had taken the first real step toward changing things. From now on, the butterfly effect would only get worse.
I poured in the stock, let it simmer, then transferred the soup into the oven to finish.
That was when I heard movement behind me.
I turned to see Nagi standing near the table, rubbing her eyes, her hair still messy from sleep.
"What're you doing?" she asked, her voice thick.
"Making onion soup," I replied. "Oh. Do you want anything with it?"
She thought for a second. "I'd love some meat." She yawned.
"Meat, huh…" I glanced back toward the fridge. "Would pork do?"
"Yep."
"Alright."
I took out the pork chops and began seasoning them, setting a pan to heat.
After a moment, Nagi spoke again. "So… what happened back there? Did we succeed in Sir Heather's test?"
I shrugged lightly. "Yeah. I think we did. I saw that green-haired kid punch the barrier and it broke. After that, I couldn't keep my consciousness and fainted."
She stared at me, then laughed weakly. "Seriously. What kind of school roasts their students alive on the first day?"
"Apparently, Excellia does," I muttered.
She snorted, then sat back down.
The pork chops sizzled as they hit the pan, the sound grounding in a way nothing else was. When the oven timer dinged, I pulled out the soup and began plating everything, letting it rest while I quickly threw together a simple salad.
Soon enough, the table was full. Soup, pork chops, salad.
I set the last plate down and sat across from Nagi.
"Thanks for the food," she said, clasping her hands together.
I almost made the sign of the cross out of habit, then stopped myself. Christianity didn't exist here. Instead, I mirrored her gesture, bowing my head slightly.
We ate in comfortable silence for a moment.
I took a sip of the soup first. It was good. Warm, mild, exactly what I needed. I lifted my knife and fork, ready to cut into the pork-
And stopped.
The image of Finster flashed through my mind. My actions earlier. The way I'd confronted him. The way I force-fed him...
My appetite evaporated, replaced by a tight knot in my chest.
I set the utensils down.
"Oh?" Nagi noticed immediately. "You're not gonna eat that? Want me to take it from you?"
"…Please do."
She didn't question it, just reached over and pulled the plate closer to herself.
I returned to the soup, sipping slowly, staring at the surface as steam curled upward. My thoughts drifted again, heavier now.
How was I going to explain this to Finster when we met again?
....
.....
...
I didn't have an answer yet.
__________________________________
Éclair POV.
Éclair watched Matt without blinking.
From the moment he stepped into the exam hall, her attention had fixed on him more than any other student.
Freshly born talent.
That was what he was.
He had already proven it once. Injuring an instructor on the first day wasn't something that happened by skill alone. He punched the instructor, powered by his unique skill. The result was an instructor biting his own tongue, blood on the floor,.
An accident.
But an injury nonetheless.
Éclair didn't care whether it was intentional.
What mattered was that Matt had crossed a line without freezing.
When the time came for her trap disguised as a test, she altered the exam. With her influence, interference was effortless.
And as the exam progressed, she watched him gravitate toward the barrier puzzle. He wasn't the loudest voice, nor the one barking orders, but others began to look to him anyway.
He was becoming a leader.
And that disappointed her.
She didn't need a leader.
She needed a monster.
When the final barrier was laid and the heat intensified, the hall shifted. Panic crept in like smoke. Students stumbled back, some shouting, others freezing in place as their instincts failed them. Éclair felt the temperature rise even through the layered protections around the observation area.
She didn't intervene and just watched.
Matt reacted faster than most, but not in the way she expected. At first, she thought he would try to organize an escape or push the others to focus harder on the puzzle. Instead, he did something reckless.
He stabbed himself.
He cut flesh and fed it to that boy cowering nearby.
Éclair's lips pressed thin.
She thought Matt had lost his mind due to the heat and was now assaulting the boy. Her interest faded.
She almost looked away.
Then the barrier reacted.
It didn't shatter the way barriers usually did. There was no explosion of thrum; instead, it came apart. Its structure unraveled, the energy flow disrupted at a fundamental level. The heat vanished as if it had never existed, leaving behind stunned silence and a room full of instructors too shocked to react.
Finster hadn't broken the barrier.
He had dismantled it.
Destroyed its function entirely.
Éclair felt it immediately. The feedback rippled through her, sharp and electric, like a blade drawn across her nerves. Her breath was with extreme exhilaration.
Energy leaked from her uncontrollably, the fake refined discipline she'd honed over years fraying as her pulse spiked. A grin spread across her face before she could stop it, wide and unrestrained, bordering on madness.
This boy is precisely what I've been looking for.
This boy would fulfill the role.
The role meant for her equal.
Her partner.