For a heartbeat I caught a sliver of calculation—not cruelty exactly, but a recognition that I was a variable and variables had uses.

"Cooperate now," he said softly.

"Help us, help Selene. Do that, and it is possible this will end cleaner."

There was no guarantee in his voice. Only possibilities measured in risk and control.

I let my hand go slack. The zero-resistance field hummed faintly at the edges of my teeth, an invisible force under everything. The Professor checked his instruments. Arthur adjusted a strap. We moved on.

Soon after, we reached the scene.

To be precise, the infirmary room.The last image before my mind retreated was Professor Dellaetrix bending close to Selene, whispering something like reassurance while Arthur ran a quick inventory with a device that spat quiet numbers into the air.

I thought of Valeria—wanted, fragmented, a system that had been both creator and saboteur—and of the thin, dangerous line between pity and power.

Then the world narrowed to breath and the muffled sound of a door closing.

I closed my eyes and let myself go again, because there was nothing left to do but be taken and to see what they would do with us.

But then... we had already left it.

Arthur and I had parted from a couple who honestly should have just gotten married already.

Alright, joking.

Now, let’s get to the serious problem.

"Let go..."

I whispered.

"What? What did you say?"

Ugh... this guy.

Seriously, I didn’t want to repeat myself, but I had to. I had never felt like being held by a creature before. A supposed specimen, clinging to me.

I wanted to puke.

"I said... let. Go."

"Put. Me. Down."

Without hesitation, he let me go, setting me down after all those hazy, dizzy accidents struck at once.

"Okay, if that’s what you want..."

"Princess—"

I threw a sharp, piercing glare at him.

The message was loud and clear:

Don’t even try to tease me.

He gulped, not daring to breathe the air around me, knowing I would never fall for such a filthy, disgusting monster.

"Hey, don’t be so serious."

"I’m sorry, okay?"

I sighed, turning my head to look at him for the second—and possibly the last—time before facing what stood right in front of me.

A castle.

Not an ordinary one.

Bleak, dark enough to shatter any camaraderie fantasy lingering in your mind.

So this is it...

The International Magic Association Headquarters.

Mostly known for possessing the most complete inventories—where countless archaic, arcane items lie as part of the kingdom’s collection.

Yes, Ains Ein Doa. Still remember that one?

I bet you’ve lost count of how many times it’s been mentioned. Heh.

Anyway, we both stopped, waiting for the expected.

A guest’s welcome at midnight.

Haha. Funny.

Not even going to happen in any fantasy setting.

Anyway... did I miss something?

Ah, right. His apology.

Actually, I wasn’t mad about him attempting to slaughter my beloved sister. No—not that.

It was something else.

Terrified? Maybe.

Distrust? Absolutely.

"Keep that apology for later—when you’ve paid for it."

"Now that you’ve taken me into custody, I’m not sure how I’m going to forgive you anyway."

"For whatever reason, I guess."

I shrugged, vaguely noticing my words stab into him.

"I mean, I just got carried away by the surroundings..." 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

"It felt like I was acting on my own. Like vibes."

Ah, right. Vibes.

That same word again.

Same old term, recycled endlessly.

"Maybe that’s just your feelings."

A convenient substitute for thinking, for mindless creatures.

An aesthetic verdict passed without evidence, then defended as if opacity itself were depth.

No. Those were never deep.

I exhaled once more.

Slow. Measured.

And no, I wasn’t annoyed.

Just... tired.

"And the thing is, maybe I should let it go."

Impressions are cheap imitations.

Anyone can feel something.

Fear feels authentic.

Hope feels genuine.

"It’s useless to think anything about that."

While delusions... they feel extremely realistic.

However—

Reality, unfortunately, doesn’t care how convincing they are.

Intuition is hardly truth.

It’s raw input—noise before infiltration.

Echoes before silence.

Discovery before invention.

Useful? Maybe.

Dangerous? Far too often.

Left unchecked, it metaphysically testifies itself into certainty without justification.

People confuse immediacy with accuracy.

Especially when it arrives quickly.

And if it resonates, they masquerade—

Crowning it as insight.

As if velocity were proof.

As if clarity didn’t require resistance.

I can’t tell him any of this.

Valeria knows better anyway—that’s how Arthur ended up like this.

No. She has to.

A hypothesis that can’t survive contact with results is just a story.

A feeling that refuses examination isn’t wisdom—it’s protection.

And protection masquerading as knowledge is the most efficient lie there is.

So no—she doesn’t "give the vibe."

She digs into structure.

And if there’s nothing there—no resistance, no outcome, no correction—then there’s nothing to trust.

Vibes without results aren’t truths waiting to become insight.

They’re errors waiting to assemble.

"...Miss Veylith?"

Ah. I’d drifted into monologue again.

Whatever those impressions were, using Selene to get information about the amulet was unacceptable.

My reverie snapped.

My right hand moved on its own—doing what I should have done long ago.

SLAP!

The sound cracked through the forest, echoing into the bleak dawn.

Motherfucker.

If it hadn’t been Selene—if it had been me—I would’ve gladly died.

His reaction was unbearable.

No. Disgusting.

He felt nothing.

His body remained steady.

"Kairi... I really am sorry for that."

"Your apology doesn’t make me feel anything."

Cold. Sharp.

A sassy, blunt tongue.

I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if these Archons could simply be erased instead of lingering.

"Sure... but give me a second chance, okay?"

I wanted to kill all of them.

Yet Selene was a fool.

For the sake of making her family proud, she used this filthy method to summon me here—into this world.

"I will... with one condition."

It disgusted me that they were lower than humans.

Arthur. Milena. Whatever monsters infested this place.

"Lay your hand on her again and I will end your family."

They should all just kill themselves.

"Arturo Machiavelli."

It would be better if you just died.

"You really called me by that long-forgotten name."

He sighed, his gestures laced with discomfort.