My Infinite System.

The quiet echo of Athena’s boots followed her down the polished stone corridors of the main instructor wing. The morning sun slanted through the high arched windows, lighting her black coat in bands of gold. She walked with calm purpose, her braid swinging gently down her back.

When she reached the oak door at the end of the hall, she paused, inhaling softly before raising a gloved hand to knock.

”Enter.”

Dean Garos’s voice was quiet but carried its usual deep resonance.

She stepped inside.

The office was silent except for the faint scratching of a quill as Garos wrote notes into a thick leather-bound ledger. Shelves lined the walls, filled with ancient grimoires, mana research reports, and countless crystal memory tablets glowing faint blue in the dim room. A steaming cup of black tea sat beside him, untouched.

He didn’t look up as she approached the heavy mahogany desk.

”Athena,” he said, continuing to write, his quill moving with deliberate precision. ”The match report has already arrived in my archive feed. I assume you’re here for more than to confirm your victory.”

She didn’t answer immediately. Her violet eyes flicked across the silent office, then returned to him, narrowing faintly at his calm posture. She folded her arms lightly across her chest.

”Class Zero performed as expected,” she said quietly. ”They dismantled the Combat Class in under ten minutes. There were minimal injuries on their side. Lucian... was the deciding factor.”

At that, Garos paused his quill, raising his gaze to meet hers. His lined eyes were calm and deep, shadows curling faintly under them from decades of sleepless nights and unspoken burdens.

”Explain.”

Athena exhaled softly, looking away for a moment before returning her eyes to his.

”His ability,” she said, her voice low. ”Space-time manipulation... or something adjacent to it. Fold Step. Dimensional Claw. Temporal Slow. He used them as if they were natural extensions of his body—no lag, no mana destabilisation, no physical backlash. Even a specialized awakened would suffer microvascular ruptures from repeated spatial shifts. But Lucian...” She paused, her brow creasing faintly. ”...He showed no stress. No fatigue. It’s like he was... born with it.”

Garos was silent, his fingers steepled under his chin. The room seemed to grow colder as his eyes narrowed in thought.

”And the others?” he asked.

”Reia’s combat prediction is near absolute within close quarters,” Athena continued softly. ”Silas’ raw durability and strength are approaching B-rank combatants despite his lack of formal awakening. Vyn’s ether control bypasses standard mana defenses entirely. Evelyn... is finally learning to fuse her replicated abilities into singular new constructs. She created an entirely new skill mid-battle.”

She fell silent for a moment, her gaze lowering to the polished stone floor. The quiet hum of crystal wards embedded in the office walls pulsed faintly in the silence.

”But...” she whispered, almost to herself.

Garos heard it. His brow lifted slightly. ”But?”

Athena raised her eyes to him, and for the first time in many months, he saw something different flicker behind her usual unbreakable calm.

Worry.

”They’re strong... terrifyingly strong for first-years,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. ”But they’re still... children. Against each other, they thrive. Against disciplined seniors, they dominate. But out there...” She flicked her fingers lightly towards the high window, where dawn light revealed the far-off mountain ridges marking the border of the Academy’s protected grounds. ”...Against the world’s major powerhouses, they’re still insects. Untrained. Unpolished. Exposed.”

Garos remained silent, his deep eyes studying her quietly.

Athena clenched her fist at her side. ”Their talents will be noticed. The guilds, the rogue hunter families, the black market slavers, the Arcane Sovereigns... They will all come for them. For Class Zero’s potential. But especially for Lucian.”

Garos raised an eyebrow faintly. ”Because of his ability.”

She nodded, her jaw tightening. ”Space-time manipulation... there are only seven known awakened in the world with that classification. Five are dead. One is in stasis under Sovereign jurisdiction due to mental collapse. The last... vanished three decades ago during the Rift Collapse War.”

She inhaled softly, calming her racing heart before continuing.

”But Lucian isn’t just manifesting raw spatial dislocation. His micro-folding and temporal redirection are precise. Controlled. Almost surgical. Even veteran awakened mages would need external focus tools to stabilise a single Fold Step. He does it with a flick of his wrist... like he’s brushing hair from his eyes.”

The silence of the office deepened. Outside the window, early sunbirds sang quietly among the flowering mana trees.

Garos leaned back slightly in his high-backed chair, folding his hands across his chest as he watched her with unreadable calm.

”What are you requesting, Athena?” he asked softly.

She met his eyes, her gaze firm despite the faint tremble in her clenched fingers.

”Additional protections for Class Zero during Zenith Week,” she said. ”They’ll be exposed to external mentors, guild scouts, artifact contractors... and potential enemies planted among them. Even here, inside the Academy’s protected zone, their identities and abilities will leak eventually. Especially Lucian’s.”

Garos closed his eyes for a long moment, exhaling softly. The scent of untouched tea drifted faintly between them.

”Zenith Week... was designed to forge diamonds from iron,” he said quietly. ”But diamonds are only beautiful when unbroken.”

He opened his eyes again, locking his gaze with hers.

”I will authorise four additional hidden guards to shadow Class Zero during Zenith Week,” he said. ”They will remain invisible, reporting only to me. Any direct interference will be permitted only if lethal force is imminent.”

Athena bowed her head lightly. ”Thank you, Dean.”

He remained silent for a moment, watching her calm posture with faint sadness curling in his chest.

”You care for them,” he said quietly.

Athena didn’t move for a moment. Then her violet eyes lifted to meet his, flickering with that faint glimmer of vulnerability she rarely showed.

”They’re... children,” she whispered. ”Children with god-killer eyes... but children all the same.”

Garos smiled faintly, the deep lines at the corners of his eyes deepening in the dim office light.

”And children must be taught to wield their blades... before they cut themselves.”

Athena nodded once, turning away as her coat flared lightly behind her. She paused at the door, her hand resting on the carved brass handle.

”Lucian...” she said softly without looking back. ”If he continues down this path... what will he become?”

Garos remained silent, his deep eyes shadowed in quiet thought. Then he exhaled faintly, lifting his teacup to his lips for the first time that morning.

”Something,” he whispered, ”that the world... will never be ready for.”

Athena closed her eyes briefly, letting the words settle in her chest like a quiet prayer. Then she opened the door, stepping out into the glowing corridor beyond.

The door closed behind her with a quiet click.

And in the silent office, Dean Garos sat alone, his eyes unfocused as steam drifted from his tea, curling into the still, sunlit air.

His mind flickered with visions of black hair drifting across half-lidded eyes, a calm boy standing alone on a cracked battlefield under dawn light—

And in that quiet, he whispered to the empty room,

”Lucian Black... what are you?”