Going by the memories he had ever since awakening, Lucas knew one thing for sure—he never knew Amelia before that day.
They were classmates, nothing more. They had never spoken. They had never interacted. Nothing tied them together before the moment his corrupted self had tried to force himself on her.
And yet…
Why was she looking at him like that?
Tears streaked down her red cheeks. Her emerald eyes, glistening with emotion, trembled as they locked with his. Her lips parted, and in a voice laced with heartbreak and longing, she asked:
"Did you know me?"
The tone of her voice—was filled with sorrow, like mourning something precious that had been lost to time.
"We were childhood friends, Lucas."
"…"
He stood frozen. Silent. The world stilled around him.
A flicker of pain passed through his mind, and suddenly everything made sense—and nothing did. He had sensed something was wrong, back when he had dreamt of his father. The inconsistencies, the missing pieces, the nagging feeling that there was more to his past than he remembered.
Now, staring at Amelia's crying face, a sharp, unfamiliar pain rose in his chest.
"And although you pretended not to notice… you knew that I had feelings for you," she said, her voice cracking. "Then why? Why did you force yourself on me…?"
"!!"
"!!"
Both Lucas and Anastasia stood in stunned silence. Amelia's words hit like a hammer.
Lucas staggered. His head spun violently. It hurt more than when his past life's memories had come flooding back. So they were close? Close enough for her to love him? That couldn't be—because…
He didn't remember.
The past Lucas—the one starved for love, for connection—would never have thrown that away. Not willingly.
Which could only mean one thing.
His memories had been tampered with.
Not once—but twice.
The first time, someone had erased Amelia from his memory, twisting his personality into something cruel and desperate. The second time had been even more invasive—someone had manipulated his soul and, as a result, unlocked the memories of Victor Frost.
And because the two tamperings used entirely different methods, Lucas could safely assume this: they were done by two different people.
But who? Who would do this to him? And why?
Still processing it all, Lucas looked at Amelia, still sobbing in his arms. He sighed.
"I don't know if you'll believe me," he began quietly, "but I have no memory of ever meeting you before that incident."
"…"
Amelia said nothing, but deep down, she had always known. She felt it. That the boy who hurt her wasn't the Lucas she remembered.
"However," Lucas continued, "that doesn't excuse anything. Even if my memories were tampered with, it doesn't absolve me. So don't feel guilty for hating me."
"I don't feel guilty about you," she said quickly.
Lucas gave a sad smile. "Yeah, right. I can see it on your face—you're hoping what I did wasn't really me."
"…"
"I don't know the truth yet," he admitted. "But even if I was being manipulated, you're still the one who got hurt. That's not something you should have to feel guilty about."
Amelia stood in silence, struggling with her emotions. After a pause, she finally asked the question that had haunted her ever since the start of the Academy.
"…Why did your personality change so much? From the beginning of the semester?"
Lucas looked at her, debating.
If he told her the truth, he'd have to talk about gods, past lives, and his time as Victor Frost. Would she even believe him? Or would he just ruin the fragile trust he had barely started to rebuild?
"…I can't tell you. Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't fully understand it myself."
That much was true. Most of what he knew was speculation and fragments pieced together. He hadn't cared to look too deeply before. He had wanted peace—had hoped things would work out naturally.
But this? This was something he should have investigated long ago.
Because for even a god to interfere with the soul of a mortal… There was something about the past Lucas that warranted divine meddling.
Amelia sensed his sincerity and didn't push further.
"…It's best if you both return," Lucas said.
"Why?!" Amelia asked, frustrated.
"Because none of us are in the right condition to talk. And you two have a war to win. We'll talk again—later."
"…"
Amelia had more questions. Many more. But her thoughts were a mess. And Lucas's next words caught her off-guard.
"Oh, and by the way—the Student Council can see everything we do in real-time."
"Wha—?"
Both Amelia and Anastasia instinctively looked up at the sky.
Lucas sighed. "Why are you two looking up? It's a virtual simulation. They can watch us from any angle they want."
"I-I knew that…" Amelia mumbled, flustered.
"Anyway, go. We'll talk later."
******
The two girls walked in silence before finding a quiet spot behind a broken fortress wall. The war simulation buzzed faintly in the distance.
"…So?" Anastasia finally asked.
Amelia's arms were crossed, her expression conflicted.
"I believe him," she said. "That Lucas… he really doesn't remember me."
"You're sure it's memory loss and not him acting?"
"Yes. But not natural. Someone did this to him."
Anastasia remained quiet as Amelia looked up at the dusky sky.
"…Moreover, if Lucas has truly been manipulated," she whispered, "then he might be the biggest victim in all of this."
Anastasia's eyes widened slightly.
"He lost everything. His position. His reputation. Everyone turned on him… including me. And if the real him never even got the chance to make a choice—if his mind was twisted before he could even resist—then what are we punishing?"
Silence again.
"Then what do you want to do now?" Anastasia asked gently.
"…I don't know," Amelia admitted. "I want to know the truth. I want to help him. But there's nothing I can do right now."
"Yeah. We've got a war to fight."
They shared a somber look—no answers, only determination to hold on until the time was right.
*****
Inside the command hub, floating monitors displayed every inch of the battlefield.
Yelena's eyes narrowed as she scanned one particular screen.
"Lucas isn't moving with any squad," she said sharply.
Dylan stood beside her, unfazed. "He said he'd participate, didn't he?"
"I accepted his ridiculous conditions. Now he's using the fact that his class doesn't necessarily have to win to avoid doing anything?!"
"Take a look at this," Dylan replied calmly.
He tapped a control, rewinding to the footage of Lucas versus Nero.
Yelena watched, her jaw slightly tensing.
In a matter of seconds, Nero was downed—defeated cleanly, effortlessly. A cloud of dust obscured the details, but the outcome was undeniable.
"…He beat Nero that fast?"
"Without much effort," Dylan confirmed. "And yes, we've verified the footage. No tampering. No illusions."
Yelena replayed it again, her irritation deepening.
"Why can't I hear the conversation between Lucas and Amelia?"
"Lucas deployed a field to distort audiovisual capture," Dylan said. "Intentional."
"He came prepared," she growled. "Looks like his rebellious nature still hasn't gone away."
*****
As darkness settled over the simulation, Nero groaned and stirred in a dilapidated room lit by a soft amber glow.
"Hey," came Anastasia's voice.
He turned to see her sitting at his side.
"…What happened?" he asked.
"You got knocked out. Lucas beat you."
"Lucas?" He blinked, then groaned again. "You serious?"
"Dead serious. It was over in seconds."
"Damn…"
"You were out for a while. In that time, Amelia and Grace finished dividing everyone into squads. We've got strategy and assignments now. You'll have to decide what we should do next."
"…Sounds like I missed all the fun."
"You still have a job," Anastasia said with a smirk.
Then she hesitated.
"Lucas… he told me to tell you to meet him once you were awake."
Nero raised an eyebrow. "…What for?"
"No idea. But I think… It's important."
Nero stared at the ceiling, eyes thoughtful.
"…Yeah. I'll go."