I stared at the floating runes shimmering above his palm. They pulsed faintly, forming words he could almost hear if he focused hard enough. Not a voice — just an echo of thought. I need to understand this architect system better.
[System Points: 50 Remaining]
[New Access Unlocked — "Architect Information."]
[Cost: 30 Points.]
I blinked slowly. "You've got to be kidding me."
The symbols hung there, impassive. Silent.
I rubbed his temple. "Fifty points for world history, and now thirty to learn what you are? You really do run on extortion."
The interface didn't argue — it just waited, pulsing faintly in a patient rhythm that made me grit my teeth.
I sighed, muttering under his breath. "Fine. Let's see what you're hiding."
A flick of thought confirmed the purchase. The world lurched.
Light poured into his mind — not bright, but heavy, like molten glass filling every crevice of memory. His vision fractured into patterns, equations, and symbols that twisted like living geometry. It felt less like learning and more like being rewritten.
When the haze cleared, the meaning was there. Cold. Precise. Beautiful in a terrifying way.
The Architect System wasn't designed to grant power.
It was designed to define it.
A relic of the Primordial Era, it functioned as the ultimate tool of comprehension — a living construct that analyzed, broke down, and rebuilt the very fabric of reality.
Mana. Aura. Essence. Will. Any form of energy could be reduced to its core pattern and reconstructed through understanding.
The Architect learned through observation.
It evolved through imitation.
And its host — me — could refine, combine, or create entirely new phenomena from what it consumed.
Every discovery, every analysis, every moment of comprehension fed the system earning points that served as its currency.
But every act of reconstruction required stability too much manipulation without mastery could rupture mind or soul.
Each stage of the Architect's evolution was divided into Tiers.
He was currently Tier I, Level 1 — Foundation Phase.
The lowest rung, limited to passive analysis of external energy flows.
Through deeper insight, the system would evolve.
Tier II would allow material manipulation.
Tier III biological adaptation.
And beyond that… the ability to alter the laws that governed existence itself.
But such knowledge came with a warning.
[System Integrity Notice: Host Mental Stability — 86%.]
[Architect Protocol advises caution in structural comprehension beyond Tier I.]
I exhaled slowly, leaning back against the headboard. "So you're not a system," I murmured. "You're a design table for gods."
The runes dimmed, as if acknowledging the truth.
I let his gaze wander over the glowing air. "You don't give power. You teach me how to take it apart and rebuild it."
A faint smile ghosted across his lips. "Perfect."
....
The door slammed open.
"Lucien!"
He didn't even flinch. The runes flickered once, then vanished, leaving nothing but the faint scent of ozone in the air.
My sister Aria Valecrest stood in the doorway, half-armored, still smelling faintly of mana discharge from recent combat. Her silver hair was tied back in a messy braid, her eyes sharp as her tone. She had the same emerald eyes I had. I didn't know how to act like the old Lucien so I just went with the flow.
"You're still in bed?" she snapped.
Lucien offered her a lazy look. "Your observational skills remain unparalleled."
Behind her entered Darius, tall and composed, his uniform crisp. "You look… different."
"Finally, someone noticed," I muttered.
Aria crossed her arms. "We just got back from the frontlines, and Father said we're to help you prepare for the Academy trials. Try to at least look alive."
"I am alive," I said. "Just reconsidering the value of existence."
Darius frowned. "Don't test him today. Father's been… tense."
I tilted his head. "When is he not?"
Before Aria could retort, a maid knocked at the door. "Young master Lucien the Duke awaits you."
The air seemed to tighten.
Aria shot me a look. "You better not say anything stupid this time."
Lucien smiled faintly as he stood, brushing invisible dust off his cuffs. "Can't promise that."
He walked past them, silent and measured. The air around him seemed to hum faintly, carrying a quiet resonance — the aftertaste of something vast that had just awakened.
As the door closed behind him, Aria whispered, "He's not acting like himself. Since when did our brother start talking like that . He had always been the quiet type something seems off".
Darius's gaze lingered on the empty air, where faint blue light still flickered. "Exactly , his eyes even carried determination and a hint of rage he tried to hide . I wonder what happened between him and father while we were away".