The crowd in the Academy's main courtyard was thick with students, all buzzing about the arrival of the princess. But in one corner, the air went still.
Rebecca stood there, her usual cold composure shattered. She was staring at a boy dressed in simple servant's clothes, her eyes wide.
"Adam," she said, the name feeling strange and familiar on her tongue. "You bastard."
Adam rolled his eyes, a lazy grin on his face. "Is that how you greet your old boss? I'm wounded. Deeply. Truly."
A sound escaped her—a short, disbelieving huff that was almost a laugh. The few students nearby who heard it froze. Rebecca never made that kind of sound. She never smiled. She was the Avatar of the Death God, a legend who walked the halls in silence.
"You're here," she said, her voice low, just for him. "I thought… I thought maybe you didn't make it. Like I did."
Adam shrugged. "Death can't hold me. I'd just shove her back where she came from."
Her eyes sharpened, the momentary softness gone. He knew. He said it too casually, too specifically. He knew what she was.
For a second, the roaring courtyard, the watching nobles, Elizabeth hovering nervously a few feet away—it all faded. It was just them. Her blade and his madness, standing in a new world.
She took a step closer. "When did you wake up? In this world."
He tilted his head. "Same time you did. Five years old. Crying in a crib. Very embarrassing."
A flicker of relief crossed her face, so fast only he would see it, before she buried it under her usual cold mask. Her mind was racing. He was here. He was alive. He was…
Her system flared to life without her command.
A transparent screen imposed itself over her vision, targeting him.
[TARGET ANALYSIS: INITIATED]
[SCANNING…]
[SCANNING…]
[ERROR.]
The screen glitched, the words dissolving into static.
Then it went completely, utterly black. Not a darkness. An emptiness. A void where data should be.
[RESULT: NO DATA FOUND]
[SUBJECT:UNDEFINED]
[EXISTENCE RECORDS:NULL]
Her breath hitched. She focused harder, pushing her will through her Absolute Death authority, trying to perceive him, to understand what stood before her.
[INSPECT: ADAM]
[OUTCOME:SUBJECT DOES NOT EXIST.]
A cold dread, one she hadn't felt since her first life, trickled down her spine. Her system—the voice of Death itself—could not read him. At all. It saw nothing. It registered nothing.
She slowly lifted her eyes back to his face. "You're… not showing anything," she whispered, confusion bleeding into her voice. "There's nothing. It's all black. Empty."
Adam's smirk didn't waver. "That's the point."
"Why can't I see you?" she asked, the fear raw in her whisper.
He closed the small distance between them and tapped her forehead with one finger. "Because I'm not here."
Before she could process that, her own system activated again, but backwards. A window popped up, not from her perspective, but addressed to her.
[ADAM — VIEWING TARGET: REBECCA]
Her pupils shrank to pins. He was reading her. He could see her stats. That shouldn't be possible.
In Adam's vision, text scrolled calmly.
[TARGET CONFIRMED: REBECCA]
[TALENT:ABSOLUTE DEATH (MUNDANE DESIGNATION: AVATAR OF THE DEATH GOD)]
[AUTHORITY:FINALITY]
[CONCEPT AWAKENING:STABILIZING]
[ABSOLUTE POSITION:ONE OF THE NINE FUNDAMENTALS]
He let out a low, appreciative whistle. "So that's what you are now. Death itself. Fancy."
"You can see my stats?" Her voice was tight.
"Every last line," he said, his tone light, as if they were discussing the weather.
Rebecca stared at him, a rare and complete helplessness in her gaze. "Then what are you, Adam?"
He leaned in, his grin widening, and whispered the answer directly into her ear.
"Nothing."
The word landed like a physical blow. Her aura, the subtle pressure of death that always clung to her, flickered and faltered. Elizabeth, who had been watching the tense exchange with growing alarm, finally stepped forward.
"What's going on?" Elizabeth asked, looking between them. "Rebecca? Adam, what does that mean? Why is she—"
"Elizabeth," Rebecca cut her off, her eyes never leaving Adam's. "Don't get close to him."
"Why?" Elizabeth asked, baffled.
"Because," Rebecca said, swallowing hard, "I can read gods. I can read ancient beasts. I can read the concepts that bind this world." She finally broke her stare to look at her friend, her expression grave. "But not him."
Adam chuckled. "Relax. I'm the same old me."
Rebecca shook her head slowly. "No. You're worse."
"In a good way or a bad way?"
"I don't know yet," she muttered, the cold calculation returning to her eyes, pushing back the shock.
The tension between them was a live wire. Students had begun to openly stare, whispers spreading.
"Who is that guy?"
"Why is the Death God acting like that?"
"He made her flinch…"
Rebecca took a slow, deep breath, centering herself. "Just answer one thing. Honestly."
Adam gave a single, shallow nod. "Go on."
"Are you still… you?"
He smirked, a familiar, dangerous light in his eyes that was both comforting and terrifying. He leaned in again, his voice a low, private thread.
"Unfortunately for everyone?" he whispered. "Yes."
Rebecca closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, the fear was gone. In its place was a steel-hard resolve. "Then don't disappear again."
Adam's grin was all teeth. "I can't disappear. I don't exist."
A loud, clear horn blast echoed across the courtyard, cutting through the murmurs. Marcos, the stern Prime Division overseer, stepped forward.
"Princess Elizabeth," he announced, his voice carrying. "The Convocation of Houses begins. Your formal introduction to the Apex Division is now."
Elizabeth jolted, remembering the world outside this strange reunion. "Right. Yes."
Rebecca turned slightly toward the sound, but her peripheral vision stayed locked on Adam.
Adam just gave her a casual, two-fingered wave.
"Let's go meet your gods," he said, his smirk turning predatory. "I want to see who survives."
Rebecca exhaled slowly through her nose. "Adam… don't start."
"No promises."
---
The walk to the Apex Division residences was quiet. Elizabeth led, flanked by Marcos, her mind clearly racing with questions she didn't dare ask aloud. Rebecca walked just behind her, with Adam a step behind Rebecca, his hands in his pockets, looking around at the opulent, mana-infused halls like he was at a zoo.
"So," Adam said, his voice cutting the silence. "An academy girl. Never would've struck me for the type, Becky."
Rebecca didn't look back. "Things change. I was reborn. Literally. Lionhead isn't here. I have a new family. A good one." Her voice softened, just a fraction. "I'm trying to let go of the past."
"Trying," Adam repeated, the word laced with amusement. "Sounds exhausting."
"It is," she admitted quietly. "But it's better than what we left behind."
They turned a corner into a less crowded corridor, the architecture shifting to older, more solemn stonework. A lone figure was walking toward them from the opposite direction—a tall, lean man in the deep blue robes of a senior instructor, his face obscured by a simple, featureless white mask.
As they passed, Adam's casual stroll hitched. Just a half-step. His head turned slightly, tracking the masked man.
The masked man also paused. He didn't fully stop, but his stride broke. His head turned, and behind the blank mask, he seemed to look directly at Adam.
For a split second, the air in the corridor didn't just grow cold—it grew still, as if reality itself held its breath.
Then the moment passed. The masked man gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod, and continued walking, his robes whispering against the stone floor.
Adam stood still, watching him disappear around a far corner.
In his vision, which had been a calm, empty black, a single line of white text flashed, sharp and urgent.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[YOU HAVE ENCOUNTERED THE ABSOLUTE BEING OF EXISTENCE.]
The words hung there, stark and undeniable, before fading away, leaving the familiar void.
Adam didn't move. His smirk was gone, replaced by a flat, focused expression.
Rebecca had felt it too—a resonance, a pressure that made the death inside her stir uneasily. She turned back to him. "Adam? What is it?"
He finally looked away from the empty corridor and met her eyes. The familiar, mocking light was back, but it was thinner now, stretched over something much more serious.
"Nothing," he said, the word carrying a new, heavier weight. "Just thought I recognized the scenery."
He started walking again, catching up to her. But Rebecca knew that look. She'd seen it a hundred times before a storm.
Something had just changed. And Adam, for the first time since she'd found him here, wasn't smiling.