The lecture hall buzzed with idle chatter.
Names passed between students like trading cards—who scored highest in the latest theory quiz, who was already in talks with elite clubs, who might be the next "prodigy" the professors favored.
I said nothing.
I sat near the back, as always. One earbud in. Half-listening.
The professor droned on about the ethical implications of summoning rituals—standard curriculum stuff—but my eyes were glazed over, focused not on the words, but the faintly shimmering mana lines tracing over the walls. I started seeing them more clearly since absorbing the [Mana Heart].
Still unstable, but manageable.
I rotated my mana internally, subtle and efficient, making minor adjustments. It was meditation, in motion. A delicate dance to stop the backlash from building again.
Two girls a few seats in front of me whispered.
"…Did you see him in combat class the other day? The way his eyes gleamed?"
"Yeah, but he doesn't talk to anyone. Maybe he's just weird."
"Cute though."
I ignored them.
Compliments didn't matter. Opinions didn't matter.
In this world, you were either a narrative asset… or an obstacle.
And I wasn't meant to be either.
Yet.
The door creaked open as the lead instructor stepped in, forcing the noise to settle.
"Today," he said sharply, "we'll be reviewing elemental compatibility and casting theory. Those of you interested in practical channeling, prepare your notes."
I exhaled quietly.
More theory. Good. No need to draw attention.
I flicked open my notebook, but most of the content I scribbled were calculations and ideas unrelated to class. Techniques I remembered from late-game builds. Flow maps. Passive auras. Rare synergy combos the other students wouldn't discover for months.
To them, I was a quiet loner with a decent face.
To myself, I am a puzzle piece that didn't belong on the board.
And that was exactly how I needed it—for now.
*****
My fingers danced along the page, drawing slow spirals that mirrored mana circuits. Each line was memory—strategies I once programmed into NPCs now being reverse-engineered with my own hands and mind.
My thoughts drifted toward the [???] trait. Unawakened. Dormant.
But I could feel it sometimes… breathing beneath my skin.
Like a predator watching from beneath ice.
I shivered.
"Psst."
I blinked. A small note slid onto my desk.
"Do you understand the elemental chart? I'm confused with lightning's interaction with wind."
I recognized the handwriting—elegant, sharp. Candice.
He hadn't even noticed her sit near him.
She moved closer, I thought. On purpose?
Carefully, I wrote a reply.
"Wind amplifies Lightning's spread. But it becomes harder to control. Same with fire."
I flicked it back.
Candice read it, then glanced at me. Her green eyes lingered a second too long before returning to her notes.
The interaction was brief.
Insignificant.
But for a moment, I felt the thin thread of the plot tightening around me again.
*******
Later That Day at the Academy Gardens
After the bell rang. Most students flooded toward the dorms or cafeteria. I veered off instead, cutting through the outer gardens, where few bothered to wander.
I needed quiet.
I found a shaded bench, sat down, and exhaled deeply. Birds chirped in the distance, but I paid no mind.
A faint burning stirred in my core—the aftereffects of absorbing the [Mana Heart] days before.
My mana was still unstable, occasionally flaring in spikes. But I was adapting. I had to adapt.
Sitting cross-legged, I began cycling my mana slowly, pulling from the environment. Filtering. Balancing.
Then—
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Mana Quality Stabilizing… 58%]
[Warning: Overuse of Lightning-element circuits may damage internal flow]
[Caution: Trait synchronization remains incomplete]
I opened one eye. "So you're awake now," I muttered ,my voice barely audible. "Just not ready to talk yet."
No reply. Just silence.
And distant thunder.
******
That night in my dormroom I sat by the window, watching lightning crawl across the dark sky like a mirror of my veins.
My reflection stared back at me: calm, unreadable, tired.
I lifted a hand.
Flickers of electricity danced between my fingers.
My trait… is observing me. Waiting to see if I deserve it.
Or maybe— it was the one being shaped.
I turned away from the window, letting the curtains fall closed.
The chapter would end the way his day had begun.
Quiet. Focused.
Unnoticed.
For now.