Formulas, magical equations, and something about energy flows flickered on the board. The instructor had been droning on for about forty minutes, and Sai wasn't even trying to take notes.
He stared at the blank page of his notebook and thought quietly:
"If I want to understand the point of all this... I need to become stronger. Not just for protection. But to know—if it was even worth surviving back then."
His hand slowly clenched into a fist.
Images flashed in his head—smoke, flames, the orphanage, the dead eyes of his parents.
Grandpa, looking at him with a tired, yet alive gaze.
And that nightmare…
The revolver in his hand, the flash.
Too real to forget.
He sighed.
"As long as I'm weak—I understand nothing. All I have is fear and questions. But I don't want to live just for fear."
"Sai, are you listening to me?" the instructor's voice reached him.
He jerked his head up.
"Yes, sir."
"Then repeat how to calculate the magical flow for a third-rank runic array."
He wanted to answer—but couldn't.
The instructor sighed but didn't scold him.
"See me after class, we'll go over it separately."
Sai just nodded.
"Separately… Great. Something at least."
After the lesson, he lingered in the classroom. The others left, and it grew quiet.
He took out his phone, opened the system window—a transparent screen hovered in the air.
Name: Sai Rion.
Level: 7.
Energy: Unstable.
Weapon Synchronization: 3%.
"Three percent… The damn weapon doesn't even want to work with me."
He tapped the window—a stats panel appeared.
Strength: 42.
Agility: 39.
Intellect: 51.
Willpower: 35.
Pathetic numbers. Most students at the Academy had higher stats.
"I need to start raising them. Somehow. From scratch."
He closed the screen, put the phone away, and left the classroom.
Groups were already crowding the courtyard—some training, others arguing.
Lars waved at him:
"Hey, Sai! Coming to the training hall? We have a break until the next class anyway."
"Let's go," he replied shortly.
The hall was enormous—rows of targets, a close-combat platform, simulators.
Sai activated his personal bracelet, turned on the progress tracking system.
The display read: "Training. Goal: Increase Physical Endurance."
He hit the targets until his hands hurt. Then again and again.
He fell. Got up. Hit again.
Lars had long since sat down to rest, but Sai didn't stop.
"Pain means I'm alive. Means I'm moving forward."
Every strike echoed in his body with something alien. As if a faint, barely perceptible tremor answered from within—as if the revolver lying in his bag felt his every movement.
Sometimes, it seemed like a strange breath sounded quietly in his head.
"Hey, why are you killing yourself?" Lars shouted. "It's just training, not a life-or-death exam!"
"Maybe for you," Sai exhaled. "For me, it's the only way not to go crazy."
He looked up at the system window.
A notification blinked:
"Strength +1. Willpower +1."
He smirked.
A small step. But a step nonetheless.
When the session ended, he fell onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
His whole body hummed, but for the first time in a long while, his mind was quiet.
"So I'm a nobody for now. But one day… I'll rise higher. And then I'll find out why I'm alive."
He slowly closed his eyes.
And somewhere deep within the slumbering metal of the revolver in his bag, a spark trembled quietly.
A tiny, almost imperceptible sound—like a sigh.
---
After training, Sai wiped off the sweat and headed for the hall's exit.
The corridor was empty, but someone stood by the doorway.
Her.
A girl in the Academy's training uniform, but with a real sword on her back.
Not a wooden practice one—a real one, with a silver blade and a rune on the hilt.
Her hair was silvery-white, almost blue in the light, and her eyes—cold, attentive.
Sai froze for a second.
Not because she was beautiful.
Because… white eyes.
Those eyes.
His heart skipped a beat. He didn't understand why, but something inside jolted with a familiar sensation.
Before he could look away, she turned her head.
"What are you staring at?" she said coldly.
Her voice—clear, confident, with a slight edge of irritation.
"Oh… nothing," he replied quickly. "Just… thought I saw something."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Thought you saw something, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Then look away before you 'see' a problem you don't want."
He sighed.
"I'm not looking for one. I'm just tired."
The girl crossed her arms.
"Tired? Of what—is it hard to keep your eyes open?"
"No, of life," he said without thinking.
She blinked, slightly surprised.
Then she smirked.
"Seriously? A student of the Academy of Light complaining about life? First time I've seen that."
"Must be an unusual day then," he said quietly.
He moved to walk past her, but she stepped forward, blocking his path.
"Wait. Which stream are you from?"
"Sixth," he replied.
"Sixth… right. So, a rookie."
"Yep."
"And you just stare at your seniors like that?"
Sai frowned slightly.
"I'm not 'staring'. I was just looking in that direction."
"In my direction," she emphasized. "Usually, that gets you challenged to a duel here."
"Really?" he raised an eyebrow. "What if it was an accident?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Then… you apologize."
"Alright," Sai nodded. "Sorry."
She blinked, as if not expecting such a quick agreement.
"Just like that? No pride, no 'it's not my fault'?"
"Why? You want to fight, and I just want to go home."
The swordswoman let out a quiet breath.
"You're strange. Not like the others."
He shrugged.
"I've been told that before."
She looked at him a moment longer than necessary.
Then she turned away.
"Fine. Go on, Sixth. But a word of advice—don't look people you don't know in the eye. In this world, a glance often costs you pain."
Sai smiled faintly.
"I'm used to it."
He walked past her, feeling her gaze on him until he reached the exit.
When the hall door slammed shut, he let out a short breath.
"White eyes… just like…"
He stopped.
Images flashed—a little girl reaching for him as fire engulfed the house.
Laughter. White eyes.
Then—darkness.
Sai squeezed his eyes shut, as if in pain.
"What the hell? Why am I remembering this now?"
He pulled the revolver from his bag. The metal was cold, yet felt alive.
As if deep inside—someone was quietly watching.
He gripped the weapon, closed his eyes.
"If this is a sign… I still won't stop."
He put the revolver back, sighed, and headed for the dormitory.
Tomorrow promised to be a long day.
But for the first time in a long while, he felt something… alive inside?