The Anomaly's Path

”You know...” I muttered over my shoulder, ”I could never get used to you showing up out of nowhere like that.”

The words hung in the quiet air of the hallway, flat and dry, the kind of thing I said more out of habit than actual complaint. I didn’t turn around to know who it was.

I already knew from the faint, almost tiny shift in the air pressure, from the way the mana seemed to grow still and cold, like the surface of a frozen lake. Besides this exact thing had happened so many times over the past few months that it had stopped being surprising and started being routine.

A soft, almost soundless footfall echoed behind me.

”...Good morning, Leo.”

The voice was flat, and blunt.

It was the kind of voice that most people found unsettling, too calm, too measured, like the speaker was reading from a script they didn’t fully understand. But I had grown used to it. More than that... I had grown fond of it.

I finally turned around slowly.

Seris stood three paces behind me, hands resting loosely at her sides, her pale face as calm and unreadable as ever. She wore her usual second-year uniform, a fitted dark coat over a pristine white shirt, with a plain black tie knotted neatly at her collar.

Her long black hair was pulled back in its usual low ponytail, the strands catching the pale morning light that filtered through the windows. Her crimson eyes, deep and unblinking, locked onto mine with the exact same intensity they always held.

”...And I could never get used to you standing in hallways staring at nothing,” she said, her voice low. ”You need to know it looks creepy.”

My lips twitched. Ah... this girl.

”I wasn’t staring at nothing,” I lied smoothly, stepping closer as she pressed the silver button. ”Besides, appearing out of nowhere is definitely creepier than staring at nothing.”

Seris didn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifted down to my collar, her brow twitching with a faint, subtle crease.

”...You didn’t wear your tie again?” she asked flatly.

”Ah...” I took a breath, letting a faint smirk pull at the edge of my mouth as I reached into my trouser pocket and pulled out a tangled, crumpled strip of dark silk, holding it up like evidence. ”Right here. Safe and sound.”

Seris stared at the crushed fabric in my palm, then slowly looked up at my face. ”How many times has it been now? You never learn, do you?”

”Hey, hey, hey, don’t give me that look like I’m the one at fault. Lyra usually handles this stuff, and I’m a noble. I never learned how to wrap a strip of silk around my throat without accidentally strangling myself,” I muttered, shaking my head. ”The knot is a complete nightmare.”

”What are you, a kid?” Seris asked, her voice dropping into that quiet, deadpan tone she only ever used around me.

”Please, cut me some slack. I’m not built for this,” I said, a faint, sly smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I took a step closer and held out the fabric. ”Besides... why should I waste time learning it? I have you, don’t I? Won’t you help me tie it like you have for the past few months?”

Seris gave me a long, silent stare. For a second, I thought she was just going to ignore me, hit the elevator button again, and step away. But then she let out a tiny, almost invisible breath, reached out, and snapped the silk right out of my hand.

”...Stand still,” she ordered quietly.

I held my breath as she stepped near me.

She looped the fabric around my neck with practiced, precision. Over the last three months, moments like this had become a strange, unspoken habit between us. After the Gate attack, the memorial, and everything we had survived together, our boundaries had shifted without either of us making a noise about it.

She was the person who had forced air back into my lungs when my core was completely empty. She was the one who had knocked me out cold just to stop me from throwing my life away in the valley.

I had knelt in front of the entire academy to ask her for a dance, and chosen to trust her anyway. We were more than friends, more than allies, floating in a space neither of us had the courage or words to define.

And yet, every time she got this close — close enough that I could catch the faint, cold scent of air that always seemed to follow her, a knot of guilt tightened in my chest.

I still hadn’t told her about the Moon Goddess. I knew that the deity she had spent her whole life praying to was nothing more than a shattered fragment of power sealed inside her. I knew the goddess was dead.

And I hadn’t said a single word...

I wanted to tell her. I knew I should. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what it would do to her. I didn’t know if she would hate me for keeping it from her.

I also never gave her that proper dinner I promised after the festival. The days had melted into weeks, the weeks into months, and every time I thought about bringing it up, the words got stuck in my throat.

I tried to thank her for saving me, but ”thank you” sounded hollow to someone who had bled for you. So I stayed quiet. And Seris... Seris never pushed. She never asked for declarations or grand gestures. She just stayed.

In three months, she had changed. She spoke a little more now. She made quiet, biting jokes. She let small, curls of a smile touch her lips when no one else was looking. That made me question, was Seris ever this talkative, or this expressive?

I didn’t know.

The Seris I knew back in the game, or whatever that world used to be, was never like this. That version of her was a ghost. Cold, distant, and carved out of ice. There were a few reasons I could guess for the change, but the one that stood out the most was simple: no one had ever bothered to talk to her.

No one had ever tried to get to know Seris. She was the Rank 1 second-year, the cold, silent anomaly in the background. People feared her.

People respected her power. But no one actually talked to her. Aside from Sylvia, who treated her like a younger sister, and a few familiar faces like Arthur, Roan or Alice who tolerated her sharp edge, she was entirely alone.

It was a strange thought, no matter how many times I replayed it in my head. How could someone like her end up so isolated? Wouldn’t people naturally flock to the strongest, most talented person in the academy? Why did she only have one real friend?

I didn’t have an answer.

Maybe they were too intimidated, or maybe... she had built her walls so high that everyone simply gave up trying to climb them.

Yank!

”Aghh, hey!” I choked out a sharp groan as the knot suddenly snapped tight against my throat, pulling my neck forward. ”What was that for? You did that on purpose!”

Seris smoothed down the front of my collar with two flat, deliberate pats of her hands, her expression completely innocent. ”...What do you mean, Lord Leo? I was merely helping your lordship look presentable.”

Your lordship? My lips twitched. She really knew how to get back at me.

The elevator chimed softly behind her. The doors slid open with a quiet hiss. I let out a long, defeated breath, then stepped to the side and swept my arm toward the open elevator with the most exaggerated, dramatic move I could manage.

”After you, my lady,” I said, my voice dripping with mock formality. ”Ladies first.”

Clap! Clap! Clap!

A slow, rhythmic clapping echoed from the hallway corridor behind us, lazy and dripping with amusement.

”Oh, how sweet!” a voice drawled out, smooth as silk and twice as irritating. ”I didn’t expect my dear junior to be such a charming gentleman so early in the morning.”

My eye twitched hard. I froze, letting out a silent, long-suffering groan toward the ceiling. Of course. How could I forget? That bastard also lives here.

Leaning casually against the frame of the third-year Primus suite was Elian Silvanis. The Student Council President stood there in his white and gold coat, his silver hair catching the light as his golden eyes gleamed with mischief.

Seris didn’t even blink, turning her head to stare at him with a look so cold it could have frozen water. I just crossed my arms, giving him a flat, thoroughly annoyed glare.

”Do you always meddle whenever someone is trying to have a normal conversation, Elian?” I asked dryly.

”Now, now, don’t give me that scary glare, Leo,” Elian said, pressing a hand to his chest as he walked over with an easy, smooth step. ”I know I’m ruining a really touching, tender moment between you two lovebirds. But unlike you, I actually have a really boring meeting to attend.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Elian stepped straight past us into the elevator, spinning around and resting his hands lazily in his pockets. He looked at Seris, then at me, flashing a brilliant, insufferable smile.

”Well?” Elian purred, raising an eyebrow. ”...Are you two coming, or are you going to stand there holding hands until the bell rings?”

Seris didn’t say a word. She simply stepped into the elevator, walking past him as if he were nothing more than a piece of decorative furniture. I stared at the silver-haired elf for a long, quiet second, my hands buried deep in my trousers pockets as I followed her inside.

I swear, I thought, watching Elian hum a smooth tune while the elevator doors slid shut, these high-born elf bastards are worse than demons. First Roan with his dramatic whining, and now this guy. I’ll kill them myself before anyone else.

_

The ride down was quiet. A heavy silence hung in the air, tense enough to cut with a sword. The only sound was Elian’s faint, smug humming.

When the doors finally opened at the main lobby, Seris gave a short, silent nod before heading off toward the combat tactics wing. Elian flashed his usual, infuriatingly perfect smile and gave a dramatic wave before slipping away toward the Student Council hall.

Left alone at last, I stepped out into the crisp morning air and began the quiet walk toward the central lecture halls.

The midday sun was trying its best to break through the thin layer of gray clouds hanging over the central spires as we crossed the campus grounds. By the time I reached the lecture hall, it was already packed with students.

Up at the front of the hall, standing behind the podium, was Professor Vance.

He looked as pale and thin as ever, wearing his usual rumpled researcher’s coat over a plain dark shirt. Over the past three months, I hadn’t been the only one pushing myself to the edge, trying to keep everything from falling apart.

Others had paid their own price.

The man standing at the front of the room was living proof of it. He had woken up barely three weeks after the relay tower incident. His body was wrecked. His mana channels were completely shattered from holding that failing barrier together with his bare hands.

By all rights, he should have been resting in a medical ward for the rest of the year.

He couldn’t even cast a basic light spell anymore. Yet here he was, driven by sheer stubborn will and a refusal to step down, leaning against the podium to teach because his mind was still sharper than anyone else’s in this academy.

As I slipped through the back door, Vance’s hazel eyes tracked me.

”Ah...” Vance’s raspy, dry voice cut through the low hum of the room, carrying easily across the rows. ”Look who decided to honor us with his presence. The esteemed Primus of the first years, fashionably late. Sit down, Leo, before you exhaust whatever handful of brain cells you have left.”

A few muffled snickers rippled through the seats. I suppressed a sigh, heading down the aisle and sliding into an empty desk right between Roan and Alice.

”If everyone has finished wandering the halls,” Vance continued, turning to the slate board with a piece of chalk, ”we will begin covering how mana breaks down over time in old barriers.”

Roan slumped forward immediately, burying his face in his hands with a muffled, painful groan. ”I want to go back to the trench,” he whimpered quietly. ”I’d rather let Professor Morgana step on my spine again than listen to Vance talk about numbers for two hours.”

Alice, sitting right beside him, glared down at her blank paper with hatred. Her pen was locked in her grip so tightly her knuckles were white, but she hadn’t written a single word. She hated studies just as much as Roan did, but unlike him, she was trying desperately not to lose her mind.

I pulled out my own notebook, looking down at the blank page as Vance began tracing complex, layered mana equations across the board. I took a deep breath, picked up my pen, and prepared myself to suffer along with them.