The campus felt different at night.
Not quieter.
Quieter was too simple a word for it.
This was… hollow.
Adam stepped out from the dorm path into the main grounds, the faint glow of scattered lampposts stretching long shadows across the pavement. The air carried a cool edge, brushing lightly against his skin, but it barely registered. His senses were tuned elsewhere.
Listening.
Watching.
No footsteps. No doors. No movement.
His gaze swept the high school wing as he approached, the building standing still and dark like something asleep. Most of the windows were blacked out, curtains drawn, lights off.
As they should be.
Still, he didn't assume.
He slipped inside.
The hallway greeted him with silence, the kind that pressed against his ears until even the smallest sound felt loud. His steps softened instinctively, controlled, precise. Each footfall placed with care.
If he could hear himself…
Someone else could too.
So he adjusted. Slower and lighter until even to him, there was nothing.
So far so good.
He moved through the classrooms one by one, peering through narrow glass panels, checking corners, scanning interiors. Desks sat untouched. Chairs tucked in. Whiteboards half-erased, remnants of lessons still clinging faintly to their surfaces. Normal, empty, and safe.
At the far end of the wing, a faint glow slipped out from one room. Adam stopped, catching the sound of low, murmured voices.
He edged closer, careful, leaning just enough to catch a glimpse through the window.
A couple of third-years sat inside, books spread across their desks, heads buried in notes. One rubbed their eyes, the other flipped a page.
Studying.
Adam exhaled quietly.
Nothing unusual.
He stepped back, turning away, letting them be.
His path continued toward the library.
The closer he got, the more his mind began to drift ahead of him, already anticipating the next problem.
It's probably locked.
That was the logical conclusion.
The librarian wasn't careless.
Which meant…
Windows?
He glanced up briefly as he walked, mentally mapping possibilities.
Too high. Too exposed.
Vents?
He frowned slightly.
A possible choice but uncomfortable.
And honestly…
Am I really about to crawl through a damn vent just to get in? A doubt i'm that desparate.
The thought lingered, equal parts disbelief and reluctant acceptance.
He reached the door and paused. Slowly, he reached out and tried the handle. It turned. Adam blinked as the door creaked open. Unlocked.
His expression shifted instantly, the faint ease from moments before tightening into something sharper.
…Why?
That didn't make sense at all.
The librarian was meticulous. Always the last to leave. Always double-checking.
So why—
Gotta stay sharp.
Adam hesitated at the threshold, pausing before stepping inside. He stood motionless, listening intently for any sign of life. But there was nothing.
No rustle of movement, no sound of breathing, no whisper of pages turning, only an unbroken silence. Still, he entered, moving with caution and deliberate care. The door closed behind him, sealing the quiet without making a single sound.
The library stretched out before him, rows upon rows of shelves forming narrow corridors that seemed to swallow light whole. The faint glow from the outside barely reached beyond the entrance, leaving most of the space draped in shadow.
Adam moved through it like a ghost.
Each step measured and each breath controlled.
If I can't hear myself…
He adjusted again, slowing further, minimizing even the smallest friction.
Then no one else can.
It worked.
Even to his own ears, he vanished.
He moved toward the left wall, to the exact spot where he had felt it before.
The strange, unshakable sensation. As he drew closer, it stirred again, faint at first, like a whisper at the edge of perception, then steadily growing stronger, pressing against his awareness with undeniable force.
A subtle prickle against his skin, like static building in the air around him. His steps slowed as he traced along the shelves, eyes scanning, body attuned to the invisible.
And then…
He stopped.
Here.
The feeling peaked.
It settled into his bones, humming just beneath the surface, impossible to ignore now that he stood directly in front of it.
Adam didn't move.
Didn't touch anything.
He just stood there, staring at the shelves in front of him, heart beating a little slower, a little heavier.
Damn, do I really want to do this?
The thought slipped in uninvited, practical and grounded.
You don't even know what's behind this.
His gaze flicked briefly toward the entrance.
Toward the empty hallway beyond.
This could go very wrong.
He exhaled slowly.
Come to think of it, I could walk away right now.
And that would be the smart move.
The safe move.
The move any sane person would make.
A faint frown tugged at his expression.
…But when has anything about this been safe?
His jaw set slightly.
The hesitation lingered for one more second.
Then he pushed past it.
Nah. I need answers.
The moment the decision took hold...
It struck him: a pulse, sharp and sudden, as if something unseen had collided with him, crashing into his very being without warning.
Adam's body tensed instantly, goosebumps rising along his arms as he inhaled sharply.
"…What the hell?"
It faded.
Then—
Another.
Stronger.
Like standing chest-deep in water as a wave passed through him.
Except there was no water.
Nothing visible.
And yet he felt it.
Clearly.
Vividly.
Again.
And again.
Each pulse washing over him, sending a strange chill through his body that wasn't cold, wasn't heat, but something else entirely.
This… isn't normal.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Someone's using something.
Magic... It had to be.
And whatever it was…
It was intense.
His focus snapped back to the shelf in front of him.
Alright. Think.
It wasn't a door. Not obviously so at least.
Just rows of books, neatly arranged like any other part of the library.
A hidden mechanism maybe?
It made perfect sense, just like in the movies. Pull a book, the door swings open. Simple.
Except—
It's too simple.
Adam's gaze sharpened, his mind quickly analyzing the situation. Whoever set this up would never depend on something so straightforward. There were far too many unpredictable variables at play, too many opportunities for unplanned exposure or accidental openings. It could never be just one book.
He took the assumption that the person who set this up must be really smart. And with that deduction it would only be fair to say every element had to be deliberate, calculated, and shielded from chance.
So i'm guessing it's not just one.
His mind worked through it quickly.
If i'm correct, there could be multiple triggers. Maybe a combination of books or something else all together.
That helped narrow it down, but not enough. There were still hundreds of books on this wall alone.
How do I isolate the right ones?
He stilled. Then slowly closed his eyes.
Gotta use what i have... Here goes nothing.
His breathing evened out, and his senses grew sharper with each passing moment. Then, without hurry, he drew in a long, deep breath, letting the atmosphere of the room wash over him. The scent of old paper lingered in the air, mingling with the dry whisper of dust, the faint tang of ink, and the warm, mellow aroma of aged wood. Together, they wove into a familiar tapestry of fragrance.
Steady, unchanging, and comfortably predictable.
Alright, so far so good. Hope i don't fuck this up.
Now that he got the baseline out of the way, it made the anomaly easier to find.
He moved slowly along the shelf, nose guiding him now instead of his eyes, filtering through layers of scent, separating what belonged from what didn't. And most importantly. What stood out.
Seconds ticked by before something changed.
Barely noticeable, yet unmistakable. One book stood out from the rest: cleaner, its spine worn from frequent handling. Adam's eyes flicked open. He reached out, fingers curling around it, and gave a gentle tug.
A soft click sounded from somewhere behind the shelf. He froze in place, holding his breath, straining to hear. Moments passed. Still, nothing moved.
"…Of course it's not that easy." He exhaled quietly.
Just like i suspected, one trigger isn't enough is it.
His mind adjusted.
So where are the others.
He leaned in again, focusing, locking onto that same scent, memorizing it, then expanding outward, searching for others like it.
Above was the second. Fainter, less used, lingering in the background.
Then, to the side, a third emerged, connected in the same subtle way. His lips pressed together slightly, the gesture small but telling.
So then it is a combination.
That made sense.
But the order…
Think.
His gaze shifted between the books.
Well... the one used most recently would have the strongest scent, right?
It wasn't perfect, but it was something. He shut his eyes again, sharpening his focus, zeroing in, noting the differences, subtle as they were.
One stood out. Just barely. But enough.
That should be the last one to pull.
He moved swiftly, relying on his sharp sense of smell to identify the first and second books, just as he had done before.
The instant he tugged on the correct combination...
Click.
A faint mechanical whir echoed through the air as the shelf began to shift, gliding inward before smoothly sliding to the side. In its place, a yawning darkness emerged, revealing a hidden passage that stretched downward into the unknown.
Adam stared at it for a second.
Then stepped forward.
The air changed immediately. Becoming cooler and denser.
The pulses hit stronger now, each one rolling through him with increasing intensity as he descended the narrow staircase, his steps cautious, quiet.
The deeper he ventured, the stronger it grew, not in sound, but in presence.
Then came the voices, faint and distant, somewhere ahead. And with them, something else: a crackling, sharp and erratic, breaking through the stillness.
…Electricity?
His brows furrowed.
Inside a building?
He reached the bottom.
The space opened up wide.
Hidden beneath the school.
And then he saw her.
An Asian girl stood ahead, dressed in soft pink pyjamas, the fabric loose against her frame, almost casual if not for what she held in her hand.
A staff.
Sleek and carved.
Different from the one he'd seen before.
But unmistakably similar in purpose.
In front of her, four training dummies stood blackened, smoke curling lazily from their surfaces.
She adjusted her stance.
Grounded herself.
Then began to chant.
"Fulmen voco… per lumen, responde mihi… per ignem caelorum, exaudi…"
The air shifted, the crackling grew louder, and her staff began to glow
First a spark, then a surge.
Lightning erupted from it like a living thing, wild and violent, coiling around the shaft in bright, snapping arcs that lit the entire chamber in blinding flashes.
Adam's eyes widened.
Holy shit…
The chant went on, picking up speed and power, until...
She slammed the base of the staff against the ground.
And in an instant, four tendrils of lightning shot out.
Precise and violent.
Each one striking a dummy.
The impact was immediate.
Explosive.
The targets ignited, flames bursting outward as the smell of burning material filled the air.
Adam blinked. Trying to process what the hell was going on.
That is… insane.
Also terrifying.
Note to self… don't piss her off.
She exhaled slightly, lowering the staff, her posture relaxing just a bit.
"…Okay," she muttered, almost to herself. "That was… probably too much lumen, right?"
She began to turn.
Adam's body reacted instantly.
Shit.
He moved quickly and silently, turning toward the stairs.
Gotta get the fuck outta here.
But the moment he moved, there was a voice.
Right in front of him. Close. Far too close.
"And where do you think you're going?"
Adam froze.
Every muscle locking at once.
What the—
He stumbled back instinctively, panic spiking as his foot missed the step behind him.
His balance snapped.
And then—
He fell.
Hard.
His body hit the stairs, momentum carrying him down several steps before he slammed flat against the bottom, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.
Pain flared across his back.
His head clipped the edge of a step.
"...fuck..."
His vision blurred for a second.
Spinning.
He groaned, trying to push himself up, eyes snapping toward where the voice had come from.
There was nothing there.
Just empty space.
But then—
The air distorted.
Like heat rising from asphalt.
Except sharper.
More defined.
The distortion bent inward, folding into itself, forming shape where there had been none.
A figure.
Outlined first but then filled.
A faint blue aura shimmered around it, dissipating slowly as form solidified into something real.
A girl.
Standing right in front of him.
Long dark hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, slightly messy like she'd been moving around, a few strands clinging lightly to her face. Her features were striking, soft yet sharp in a way that pulled attention without trying, full lips, smooth skin, eyes that carried a quiet depth even in the dim light.
She wore zebra-striped pyjamas, the top a loose cropped fit that revealed just enough of her toned tummy, the fabric shifting slightly with her breathing, paired with baggy leggings that hung comfortably around her legs.
Casual and relaxed. And completely out of place.
And yet…
She stood there like she belonged more than anyone else.
Adam's breath caught as his mind raced, scrambling to make sense of it. That voice, that presence, that unmistakable feeling.
It all swirled together in a haze of recognition. And then, in a sudden rush of clarity, it clicked.
His eyes widened.
"…Aiva?"
The name left him before he could stop it.
Shock hit him full force.
What the hell is she doing here?