The Concordee keeps working like a gentle and methodical angel. But the pain refuses to fade. It lingers like a blade lodged behind Isaac's eyes, pulsing with every heartbeat.
Around him, he hears the whispers, gasps, scattered murmurs. Students shifting in their seats, trying not to stare but failing miserably.
So much for keeping a low fucking profile.
Now I'll be remembered as the kid who broke down, cussed out, and slammed his head into the dessert before dessert was even served.
.
.
.
| Progress: 100% |
| Temporal Anchor → Temporal Anchor (Version 2) |
At last…
Isaac inhales, shaky but steady, like surfacing from deep underwater. The agony dulls to a throb, distant now, manageable.
He didn't dare open my eyes yet. But with a trembling hand, he raised his thumb, just enough to signal Professor Aldrick St. Clair.
"Thank you... Professor," Isaac whispered, voice frayed but sincere.
He understands. The healing stops. The Concordee retreats in silence.
"Head to the infirmary, Mr…?"
"Isaac. Will do, Sir. Thank you"
His chair screeched across marble as Isaac lurched upright, suddenly insulated by a wall of professors forming a protective cordon around him. They hustle Isaac toward the exit.
But before crossing the exit, he hesitated, just for a heartbeat.
And the world fractures.
Instead of the fluorescent blue grid of Temporal Anchor Version 1. A static emerald floods his vision.
The dining hall dissolves into a cascading nightmare of binary code, a living, breathing matrix of ones and zeroes.
The digits aren't just overlaying reality, but rather consuming it. A discombobulated mess of 1's and 0's
Students become walking skeletons of binomial code, their laughter translated into pulsing green algorithms that describe what they are saying and what forms what they are saying.
What the hell???
0̴1̴0̴0̶1̷0̷0̸1̷ ̴0̷1̸1̵1̷0̷0̷1̸1̸ ̸0̶0̵1̶0̶0̷0̶0̸0̷ ̴0̵1̸1̵0̵1̵0̸0̶0̶ ̶0̴1̸1̵0̷0̸1̸0̷1̷ ̵0̵0̷1̵0̴0̴0̴0̴0̶ ̷0̵1̷1̷0̶0̴0̷0̸1̴ ̷0̴1̴1̸0̶1̴1̸0̵0̴ ̸0̸1̶1̷1̴0̷0̸1̶0̶ ̸0̸1̸1̴0̷1̴0̸0̶1̵ ̴0̵1̵1̵0̶0̸1̶1̸1̴ ̸0̷1̸1̴0̶1̴0̷0̵0̷ ̶0̸1̸1̷1̶0̴1̸0̸0̴ ̸0̷0̵1̵1̷1̶1̷1̸1̶ ̵0̸0̵1̸0̵0̷0̷0̸0̸ ̸0̶1̷0̴0̸1̸0̴0̶0̸ ̵0̶1̸1̴0̴0̷1̵0̷1̶ ̸0̸0̵1̴0̴0̴1̷1̵1̸ ̷0̷1̶1̸1̸0̶0̸1̸1̵ ̶0̴0̶1̴0̴0̴0̸0̶0̸ ̷0̵1̷1̵1̵0̴0̶1̶1̷ ̷0̸1̷1̷1̵0̷1̷0̶0̴ ̵0̴1̸1̸0̵0̴0̴0̷1̴ ̴0̵1̵1̴1̴0̴0̵1̴0̶ ̷0̴1̴1̴0̵1̵0̸0̴1̸ ̵0̸1̸1̴0̸1̵1̷1̶0̷ ̸0̴1̷1̷0̷0̷1̸1̵1̸ ̶0̶0̵1̸0̸0̶0̴0̷0̶ ̶0̴1̸1̵0̴0̵0̷0̵1̸ ̵0̵1̶1̸1̸0̷1̶0̷0̷ ̸0̸0̸1̸0̸0̶0̷0̷0̵ ̶0̵1̶1̶1̴0̸1̸0̸1̵ ̸0̸1̶1̸1̵0̶0̷1̷1̴ ̷0̸0̷1̵0̸0̶0̵0̸0̵ ̶0̶1̸1̵1̷0̸0̴1̶1̸ ̴0̷1̸1̷0̵1̷1̴1̶1̷ ̵
Ughhh fuck. Coding class all over again…
Shit Binary… It's ASCII or UTFI-8…
Direct translation… Uhm…
"Is he alright? He's staring at us so intensely."
Oh shit. I don't wanna be a creep on my first day.
Isaac quickly flicks his head up to the ceiling. But it drips with streaming data, every stone block demarcated by glowing partitions like some grotesque chess board made of light.
This is so fucking trippy.
I'm gonna puke…
But, I need to see it…
Isaac turns back. His eyelids flutter open one final time, fixing on the last place he saw Caelum.
| Successfully obtained Inhabitalight: Caelum Veldt's statistics. Displaying… |
Oh? At least…
Name: Caelum Veldt
Class: ???
Title: "Archon of the Element's Accord", "The Blessing of a Curse: The Curse of a Blessing", "Your Greatest Actor"
Age: 16 (Biological Age). ??? (Mental Age)
Stats:
- Strength: 2-Star
- Vitality: 2-Star
- Agility: 2-Star
- Intellect: Unreadable, your difference is too great
- Stamina: 100%
Attributes:
Dramatis Personae: The protagonist of the game, whether he realises it or not, this attribute grants him a body naturally attuned with all 4 Main Elements and amplified by a 15% boost in Magical power.
Artificial Spiritual Sensitivity: The one attuned with the building blocks of nature. Caelum is extremely sensitive to Mana, being a near extension of Ȉ̵͔̬̻̭̰̪̙̙̹̈́̒̐̇̈̃̐̀́̓̕͝ͅT̴̡̼̦̣͚̟̭͙̙͕͑̓̓̄̓̇͑́̌̉͒͑̔͒͜͜͝'̸̡̛̖̘̯̻̰̲̹̪̱͔̦͕͎̭̮̽̿̔͑̔̓̽̇̓́̇S̵͚͔̺̍̐̇͗̆̓̈́̊̅̈͘͝ will, in which Spirits will be more easily perceived by him and efficiecny of use will be heigthended.
Second Blessing of the World: The world has taken a favor to Caelum; his Spells consume 20% less Mana than the average individual, with an additional boost of 30% in Magical power.
Phylogenetic Root: An individual possessing the necessary genomes to be the pinnacle of existence. Grants an increase of all physical stats by 1-Star. Alongside the opportunity to learn multiple Sources of Science.
Plot Armour: Reality bends to the will of the Actor in this Play. Ignorance of Ontological Laws set by T̶̢̢̡̡̛̮̙̩̰̬̥̭̞͕̙̙̅̎̑̾̾̆͒̀̕͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅH̵̛̛̗̻͙͖̯̱͔̠͖̱̩͆͋̄͗͋̃̍̆͗̇͑͘͝E̴̛̹͊̈́̇̆͆̏̏́͊̀̈́̇̍̍̈́M̶̨̢̧̻̝̺̜̞̣̥̬͍̗͓͎̳̝̃̑̽́̀̒̄̏́͘͝ is the source of this Authority. This Actor is, effectively, the play itself. In unfavorable situations, where conceptual laws and mathematical impossibilities state that the Actor will fail.
T̵h̷i̵s̵ ̵T̶h̶e̶s̵p̶i̷a̴n̸.̸ ̷W̸i̷l̷l̸ ̷p̶r̸e̴v̵a̷i̵l̷.̷
Element Affinity:
None
Mana Remaining: ???
Eh, no wrong student. These stats aren't Caelum-
'Name: Caelum Veldt'
This can't be right.
The data streams warp and flicker like malfunctioning code as Isaac frantically rechecks the stats.
His statistics should be pristine, flawless 5-Star ratings across every category except intellect, no?
But what the fuck is this shit?
It was an exact inverse of his original stats.
Isaac's hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
His intellect is unreadable; it means he is smarter by a margin of at least three full stars above my own? Impossible, all his physical stats are 2-Stars and his attributes are unchanged…
No.
| Dramatis Personae | should have been | The Chosen One |.
At least the attribute itself is unchanged.
But…
| Phylogenetic Root |?
| Plot Armour |?
The words hang in his vision like a death sentence.
These attributes weren't in his EAA profile, nor was it in any profile.
His mouth goes dry. Ancient survival instincts scream at him that something is fundamentally wrong, the fear similar to the uncanny valley. Even brushing aside the two new additions.
The true horror comes into focus last.
His Elemental Affinities.
Nothing…
Nothing.
Each pathetic rating blinked at Isaac, implications more terrifying than any transmigration and death to him.
I get that it could be a lack of practise on his part as someone so talented.
But what the System is showing is an untrained Mage.
It's showing someone who's never fucking touched his Magic in his life!
But...but that would mean… huh?
Wait?
Screw the entire main story if the MC himself is screwed…
The professors' hands guide Isaac forward, but his body moves on autopilot. The corridor walls blur into a tunnel of flickering green torchlight, yet all he sees are those numbers burned in front of my vision like afterimages from a lightning strike.
Phylogenetic Root.
Three stars at the bare minimum beyond my intellect. Nevermind how intellect is graded by the System. I have knowledge from a world that sees this as fiction.
And you're saying he's smarter?
The facts circle like vultures. Every instinct screams that Isaac has just witnessed something that shouldn't exist, like seeing a corpse stand up and recite languages fluently. An animatronic possessed.
His fingers dug crescent moons into his palms.
If the System isn't wrong...
Then what the fuck did I just have dinner with?
It isn't a Mage who forgot his training.
It isn't even a beginner.
IT is NOT Caelum
And IT has infiltrated EAA.
"Almost there,"
Professor Adlrick murmurs, but his voice comes muffled, as if heard through layers of wool.
For Isaac had one last thought.
Wait…
Who are | Ȉ̵͔̬̻̭̰̪̙̙̹̈́̒̐̇̈̃̐̀́̓̕͝ͅT̴̡̼̦̣͚̟̭͙̙͕͑̓̓̄̓̇͑́̌̉͒͑̔͒͜͜͝ | and | T̶̢̢̡̡̛̮̙̩̰̬̥̭̞͕̙̙̅̎̑̾̾̆͒̀̕͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅH̵̛̛̗̻͙͖̯̱͔̠͖̱̩͆͋̄͗͋̃̍̆͗̇͑͘͝E̴̛̹͊̈́̇̆͆̏̏́͊̀̈́̇̍̍̈́M̶̨̢̧̻̝̺̜̞̣̥̬͍̗͓͎̳̝̃̑̽́̀̒̄̏́͘͝ |一
His eyes popped immediately.
Not metaphorically, not figuratively.
Literally.
The infirmary door loomed ahead. Normally, their soft light would be comforting for a adrenaline rushed professor and an injured student.
But due to a terrible truth that settled over him like a burial shroud.
A sudden vertigo gripped Professor Aldrick as a warm, soft matter splattered against his arm.
"ALDRICK!" Doctor Esquivel's hand closed over Isaac's shoulder, guiding him upright, bracing his back against her knee as she snapped open two Fox shields and set them over his detonated eyes.
Around her, the assistants began immediate emergency practise. A sterile gauze arrived in stacked armfuls as Doctor Azucena Esquivel was already winding it around Isaac's skull.
The room had fallen into the hush of disaster.
Or, perhaps.
It was the frantic shouts of the staff that were overpowered by a boy's howls of agony.