Advanced Summoning 201: How to Ruin a Classroom
Professor Vastel floated to the center of the room, hands clasped like a disappointed thunderstorm.
"Today," he said, "we study summoning through identity resonance. In other words: bring forth what you truly are. Preferably without turning the classroom into an existential crater."
Half the students immediately took a step back.Ayaka stayed seated, grinning. "Oh, this is going to be fun."I raised my hand. "Define 'existential crater.'"
"Any hole that also questions its own purpose," Vastel replied. "Begin."
Summoning Attempt No. 1
We knelt before mirrored circles etched into the floor. Each circle shimmered, hungry to reflect something unseen.
I centered myself, breathing slow.Nihility Fire coiled inside me, patient and warm — black edged with gold now, the Soulflame glinting through.
"Okay," I whispered. "We're going to manifest something helpful. Not apocalyptic. Preferably cute."
Ayaka snorted. "Define cute.""Less teeth than usual."
The mirrors pulsed. I focused on that flickering balance—void and light intertwined—and poured it into the rune pattern.
The floor darkened. The air thickened.
A whisper rose:
You seek what mirrors you.
The circle cracked—and from it, stepped out a fox made of living shadow and gold flame.
The Shadow Nihility Fox
It stretched, tails unfurling—nine of them, each glowing faintly with runes of Nihility. Its eyes shimmered like inverted stars.
The class gasped. Ayaka's ears perked. "Well, well… a cousin!"
The fox bowed its head toward me.
"I am what you would become if you stopped running," it said in a voice like wind through bells.
Professor Vastel cleared his throat.
"Congratulations, Valentine. You have successfully externalized a fragment of your soul. Please sign the ownership contract before it unions with your shadow."
I blinked. "It can unionize?"
"Only on full moons," Vastel said.
Naming the Impossible
The fox tilted its head. "Do I have a name?""Not yet," I said. "You're… an extension of me. A reflection. You deserve one."
Ayaka circled it, tails intertwining with its shadows. "What about Kuroha? It sounds mysterious and slightly smug."
The fox considered. "Acceptable."
The mirrors etched the name in light: KUROHA — Shadow Nihility Familiar Registered.
Practical Chaos
The rest of class was… eventful.
Kuroha helped me focus the Nihility Fire, amplifying its precision. Whenever my control wavered, he flicked his tails, stabilizing the flame.When another student's summon got loose—a spectral chicken that screamed in Latin—Kuroha simply snapped it back into its summoning circle with a polite flick.
By the end, even Vastel looked mildly impressed.
"The fox balances your curse," he said. "It channels what you suppress—humor, instinct, desire. Keep it close, or the void will reclaim it."
I nodded. "Understood."
After Class
Outside, Celestara's mirrors reflected two silhouettes—mine and Kuroha's—walking side by side.Ayaka followed, teasing. "So, do we feed it? Groom it? Take it for existential walks?"
"I think it feeds on my sarcasm," I said.Kuroha nodded solemnly. "Delicious."
She laughed. "You're officially unstoppable now. A cursed boy with a pet apocalypse."
"Companion," I corrected. "Not pet."
The fox smiled. "Same difference."
The Lesson Beneath the Lesson
That night, Kuroha sat beside me on the dorm balcony. His tails swayed like candle flames, lighting the air.
"Why do you still call yourself cursed?" he asked.
"Because I was born from something that erases," I said quietly.
"And yet you create," he replied. "Perhaps Nihility was never about nothingness. Perhaps it was about beginning again."
The wind carried the scent of new fire.Somewhere deep in my chest, the Soulflame pulsed once, bright and calm.
I smiled. "Maybe you're right, partner."
"Always am," Kuroha said, and faded into my shadow like a promise.