From the outside, Apex Academy was an impregnable fortress.
Automated mana turrets, S-Class sensor networks, and patrolling AI drones ensured that, in theory, not even a fly could enter or leave without authorization.
But every system had a flaw.
"Security Protocol 4-B…" I muttered under my breath, panting as I forced open the rusted ventilation hatch behind the waste processing sector.
"Every morning at 04:15, there's a three-second delay when the sensors switch from thermal scans to mana detection."
I didn't question how I knew this. The knowledge sat in my mind with absolute clarity, as if it were my own memory.
I checked the time.
04:14:58
04:14:59
Vzzzzzt.
The blue laser grid above me flickered—and vanished.
"Now!"
I threw myself into the narrow tunnel. Rusted metal scraped against my weak knees and elbows, tearing skin, but I ignored the pain. Three seconds later, the lasers snapped back to life behind me—by then, I was already tumbling beyond the academy's outer walls, into the Forbidden Forest.
The forest was silent.
Unnaturally so.
I followed the map etched into my mind, heading north—toward the valley where the fog grew thickest. With every step, my heartbeat quickened.
After nearly an hour of grueling travel, the veil of mist parted.
And I saw it.
The Reflection Lake.
At the center of a massive crater lay a perfectly circular pool, nearly fifty meters wide, filled with a black, motionless liquid. It reflected neither moon nor stars. When you looked into it, you saw only one thing—
Nothingness.
I stopped at the shoreline.
Every instinct I had was screaming.
Run. Get away. Death is here.
I stripped off my academy uniform. The night wind lashed my frail body. I took a step forward.
The moment my foot touched the black liquid, there was no cold—only absolute numbness. As if that limb had been erased from existence.
I didn't scream.
I didn't announce my name.
This entity cared not for words—but for intent.
"I know the rules," I whispered. "And I'm ready to pay the price."
I waded in up to my knees. The sensation of my legs began to vanish. I struggled to keep my balance as whispers rose from the depths—chaotic murmurs spoken in thousands of different, incomprehensible tongues.
"Take them," I said, my voice trembling.
"My eyes. My arms. This weak, useless shell. Take it all."
Then I let myself fall backward—into the embrace of blackness.
The moment my head slipped beneath the surface, the world fell silent.
And then—
Hell began.
This wasn't the pain of a blade or a burn. I felt my cells being torn apart one by one, stripped down to their atoms. My DNA unravelled. My bones were crushed into dust. My soul was being scraped from my body.
At the peak of the agony, a foreign memory exploded inside my mind.
It wasn't mine.
It belonged to the former owner of this body—the most traumatic memory branded into his soul.
The sky was leaden gray. Acid rain poured over the ruins of the city like a curtain. Young Arthur knelt in the mud, clinging desperately to the edge of his sister's cloak with trembling hands.
Morgana's hands were shaking—but she wouldn't look at him.
"Take me with you!" Arthur screamed, his voice swallowed by the rain.
"You promised! We were supposed to go together!"
Morgana turned slowly. For the first time, tears filled the eyes of the sister who had always been strong, always unyielding. She knelt before him, cupping his face in gloved hands—gripping his cheeks hard enough to hurt.
"We can't go together, Art," she said, her voice breaking.
"Where I'm going… even monsters are afraid of that place. If you come with me, I won't be able to protect you. You'll be nothing more than bait."
"I don't care!" Arthur shouted, trying to cling to her.
Morgana shoved him back—hard enough to knock the breath from his chest. Arthur fell onto his back in the mud.
She stood.
Wiped the pain from her face.
And replaced it with an icy, artificial mask—the only thing that might allow Arthur to survive.
"You're weak, Arthur," she said coldly.
"In my world, there's no place for the weak. If you follow me… I'll have to kill you with my own hands."
She turned away. Her black cloak flared like a wing.
"Hate me," she said as she walked, her voice now a whisper—but Arthur heard it.
"Hate me, and live with that hatred. And never… never forgive me."
She disappeared into the mist.
Arthur reached out—but his fingers grasped only empty air.
"NO!"
The scream echoed through my mind, all the way to the bottom of the lake. That helplessness—that abandonment—merged with the exhaustion I had carried as a writer.
Two souls melted into one pain.
One purpose.
[Subject: Arthur Knox]
[Emotional Resonance: 100%]
[Request Accepted]
[System Error: Body limits exceeded…]
The black liquid began to boil.
As my bones reformed, the sound was like shards of glass grinding together. My muscle fibers tightened like steel cables.
And then—my eyes.
It felt as if molten lava were being poured directly into my sockets.
Air slammed into my lungs as I shot out of the water like an arrow. I crawled onto the shore and vomited onto the wet earth—black, tar-like fluid spilling from my stomach.
I rolled onto my back, gasping. Every breath cut like a razor—cold and sharp.
I opened my eyes.
The sky was no longer dark.
I could see energy particles drifting through the air, the flow of the wind—甚至 even microscopic vibrations in space itself.
The lake was dead.
Its power completely drained, reduced to nothing more than an ordinary pool of water.
"I'm not weak anymore, Morgana," I whispered.
There was no tremor left in my voice.
Then—
The hairs along my spine stood on end.
A stench seeped from deep within the forest: rotting flesh, rusted blood, and heavy sulfur.
The bushes exploded outward.
From the darkness lunged a beast the size of a horse.
A Shadow Wolf.
Smoke poured from its drooling jaws. Its muscles bulged and contracted with each step, claws tearing through the soil like paper. Its eyes locked onto me—pure, unfiltered hatred.
My "destiny."
The fate meant to kill me tomorrow.
The wolf snarled and launched itself forward with terrifying power. It moved so fast that a normal human would have seen only a blur. The ten meters between us vanished in a heartbeat.
I could see it—the moment its massive jaws would close around my throat—like a scene in slow motion.
But I didn't fear it.
I didn't run.
I didn't even blink.
Because my eyes… no longer saw a biological creature.
They saw data.
The world unfolded into a grid of violet neon lines. The wolf's movement became a vector. Its speed, a number.
And just beneath its neck, suspended in the fabric of space-time, I saw a small purple fracture.
[Break Point]
I raised my hand slowly, as if moving through water.
There was no lightning crackling at my fingertips.
Something worse was happening.
The air itself was corrupting where my fingers passed—reality trembling, pixelating, like a television screen losing signal.
As the wolf descended upon me, I swung my hand toward the fracture like a blade.
"Delete."
ZIIIRRT!
This wasn't the sound of flesh being cut.
It was the shrill static of an overloaded speaker.
The sound of the universe throwing an error.
My hand never touched the wolf.
I cut the space it occupied.
The air at those coordinates twisted. The beast's head and body slid apart, as if they belonged to two different frames of reality. There was no spray of blood—no time for it to exist. The severed surface was sealed smooth by pulsating purple error-energy.
Space closed.
The massive body crashed to my right.
The severed head dropped to my left.
Thud.
Not a single drop of blood touched my face.
As the distorted violet energy faded from my hand, I looked down at my body—pale, marble-like skin.
And in the reflection of the water—
Those irises-less eyes, swirling with purple distortion.
I looked at the monster's corpse and smiled.
It wasn't Arthur's innocent smile.
"The story's changed," I said to the darkness.
"I'm not the prey anymore."