The next day arrived with a crisp, formal energy. The departure plaza was packed. Students in their academy uniforms stood in clusters, some buzzing with nervous excitement, others standing in stoic silence. Frederick was there, resplendent in his knight-cadet attire, a calm, steadying presence moving through the crowd. All the second and third years were present, a sea of silver and black badges. Among them stood Miguel, the Awakened third-year heir of House Fenshore, his silver hair immaculate, his expression one of detached, princely boredom as he surveyed the lower-year students like a farmer inspecting livestock.
Families had come to see them off. Brian's parents, rough-handed farmers from a distant village, stood together, their faces etched with equal parts pride and worry. They waved eagerly whenever Brian looked over, and he beamed back, a giant among his peers. Garfield's family stood a little apart, their expressions a mix of disdain and weary tolerance. Garfield himself was in full theatrical form, shouting "Eureka!" at random intervals and striking dramatic poses, determined to shine brighter than their disapproval.
Mary stood quietly, her broken glasses sitting perfectly on her nose due to some clever patchwork with wire and glue. Her younger sister, a small girl with the same ginger hair, waved frantically from behind the safety rope, her face alight with hero-worship. Mary gave her a soft, reassuring smile and a small wave back.
Lucid watched it all, running through his plan one last time in his mind. The vault schematic, the guard rotations during the rift expedition, the supposed location of the Fenshore blueprint—though he still didn't know exactly where it was. It was a cold, mental checklist with a giant question mark at the center. He would have to hope for the best and improvise. The new glasses for Mary were still tucked in his pack, ungiven. He hadn't found the right moment, or maybe he was just avoiding the sentimental gesture.
Then Brian's massive arm wrapped around his shoulders in a friendly squeeze. "Ready for this, partner?" Garfield sidled up, striking a thoughtful pose. "The canvas of adventure awaits its first bold stroke!" Mary simply stood close, her presence quiet but solid.
They really wanted to be around him. They sought him out, included him. It felt wrong. He was a destroyer. A thief. A murderer of gods. He carried oceans of guilt and secrets they could never fathom. Letting them close was a liability, a weakness. But as he looked at Brian's earnest face, Garfield's performative hope, and Mary's intelligent, grateful eyes, he allowed himself a small, almost invisible smile. Just for a second.
"Alright, enough," he said, his voice its usual flat tone, but without its usual edge. "If we do good in there, I have prepared a little something for you guys. A gift, perhaps."
Garfield's eyes lit up. "Art supplies? It must be! The muse demands quality parchment!"
Brian shook with excitement, his large frame vibrating. "I hope it's food! The rations they give us are terrible!"
Mary gave him an all-knowing smile, the one that said she saw right through his gruff act. "Whatever it is," she said softly, "it will be just enough." Her smile was genuine, and it held a trust that made something in his chest tighten uncomfortably.
Across the plaza, Frederick caught his eye. The young knight gave him a slight, knowing smile and a nod. It wasn't the cheerful grin of the 'Prince Charming' knight, but something quieter, more solemn. It reminded Lucid of a shared, unspoken understanding, a glimpse of the weary soldier beneath the polished facade. Frederick was the only one looking directly at him as the moment approached. The look said, 'I see your game. Be careful.'
A low hum built in the air, vibrating through the stone under their feet. The professors at the head of the plaza began channeling their essence in unison. The space before them shimmered, warped, and then tore open. The Epsilon Rift. It wasn't a void or a purple expanse, but a swirling, burning orange maw, like a wound in the world leaking molten light. It was big, unstable, and hummed with a dangerous, ancient power.
One by one, the student teams, led by their assigned Awakened escorts, began to step through the luminous threshold and vanish.
As the crowd surged forward, Lucid saw the pink-haired Senior Administrator, Anya, approach Miguel. She leaned in close, her lips moving rapidly, whispering something urgent. Miguel's bored expression flickered, replaced by a sharp, calculating focus. He nodded once, curtly, then turned and strode purposefully into the swirling orange light, his silver hair catching the rift's fiery glow.
Then it was their turn. Brian took a deep, dramatic breath. Garfield struck a 'heroic departure' pose. Mary adjusted her patched glasses, her face set with determination. Lucid felt Alice's presence stir within him, a silent pulse of readiness.
Without another word, Team Four of Class A stepped forward together and crossed the threshold into the burning, unknown light of the Epsilon Rift.
The world dissolved into a roar of heatless orange fire and a sensation of being pulled apart and knitted back together. As the disorientation settled, a familiar, monotonous voice rang inside his head, clear and direct as if speaking in a silent room.
***
Welcome, Enlightened...
The trial shall commence.
Any failure in completing the target in due time will result in one's forfeit of life.
Objective: Survive.
Participant: Alice The Divine Maiden.
Trial scenario: The fall of the archives of Celestia.
Required time: infinite.
May your journey lead you towards Enlightenment.
***
He waited, he heard it another one.
***
You have entered a Dimensional Rift — Epsilon-Class
Designation: 'Scorched Archive'
Recommended Party Level: Awakened (Full Party)
Primary Hazards: Environmental Degradation, Rampant Corrosive Fate Essence, Corrupted Unfaithful, Structural Collapse of the Archives of Celestia.
Secondary Objective: Locate and secure any stable memory-fragments.
Primary Objective: Survive.
***
*Thud.*
'Ouch.'
It hurt. Lucid had fallen down from what seemed like a ten-meter drop, hitting a shelf on the way before finally slamming into the hard ground. He pushed himself to his feet, stretching his limbs. Any slight injury from the impact was already healing, a faint warmth spreading through his muscles thanks to Alice's passive ability.
What stood in front of him was a massive archive. A library. It was pristine white. Shelves and books lined every wall, stretching up into a curved, vaulted ceiling high above. It was really beautiful. Peaceful, even.
But something was wrong. There was always something that didn't go right. Something that was off. He looked around.
He saw no one.
None of his party members. No Brian, no Garfield, no Mary. He was alone.
He heard the voice again in his head, the same monotonous one from before. It muttered, 'Secure fragments...' and then, '...the fall of the Celestia Archives...'
But the archive was standing here, clearly. Not fallen at all. It was perfect.
He heard a low growl behind him. He turned. It was a rat. A big rat, the size of a large dog, with sickly green eyes that glowed in the white room. It was E-rank. An Unfaithful.
Lucid looked at it.
It took a step closer.
He didn't flinch.
It gathered itself and jumped at him, teeth bared.
He looked at it, preparing himself. As it flew through the air, he didn't summon a chain. He didn't enhance his speed, strength or with Alice's light. He just tightened his fist and threw a single, straightforward punch.
The punch connected. There was a wet crunch. The rat didn't just fall. It exploded into a million bits of green, glowing goo that splattered across the white floor and several shelves.
'The heck...'
'The blood is green...'
He looked at his fist. He had just punched it. During his preparation for this rift, Lucid had been working hard. Since he could heal from almost anything thanks to Alice, he didn't have to worry about injuries. He had spent the time before the expedition breaking his own limits, training his body to its absolute edge, over and over. Pushing until bones threatened to break, then letting the green light knit him back together, stronger.
"My Lucid," Alice's voice chimed in, a note of pride in her tone. "Hard work pays off."
He shook the gore from his hand and continued. He moved through the maze of white shelves, exiting the pristine building through a grand archway. Outside, the world was different. The sky was a flat, lifeless grey. Before him stretched a landscape that made no sense.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of identical white archive buildings, just like the one he'd left, were spread out as far as he could see. They stood in neat, endless rows, with no visible roads, no signs of nature, no people. It was as if the very archives of this place, this supposed 'Celestia,' had spawned copies of themselves for hundreds of meters in every direction. The building he was in was just the center of an impossible, repeating scenery.
"This is... so weird," Lucid muttered to himself, staring out at the silent, duplicated horizon. He was alone in a perfect, empty, and very wrong world.