I did not interrupt her talking and just kept listening to her.
"After the barrier shattered, I tried again to confirm my suspicions," she said. "I froze time one more time."
She looked straight at me.
"This time, he moved freely inside the frozen world."
....
You do not look shocked.... Not even a little. You look like that was the only ending you ever expected.
Before she could open her mouth, I cut in first.
"Hey, Tasora. You are strong, right?"
She blinked, thrown off just enough to show it.
"Well. Even without using my conceptual powers, I do not think anyone in the class could beat me. Not even if the entire first year jumped me all at once. But why are you changing the topic?"
I let out a short laugh, taken aback by her certainty. Well, not certainty, more like the unavoidable truth.
"You already know I am not going to answer anything about that time," I said. "So I might as well move us somewhere safer early on," I answered.
"Hmmmnnnnn.." She mumbled as her eyes narrowed on me.
"You know what I hate the most about people, Matt?"
I stayed quiet. Let her have the space.
"Lying and breaking promises."
"Is that so...."
"And as I said, you are being unfair," she continued, leaning back into the chair.
"You know that anything I ask is something you refuse to say. So instead of lying, you just shut your mouth. You hide there."
I didn't deny it, even if that meant quietly conceding she was correct.
She exhaled slowly, as if deciding how far back she wanted to go.
"Do you know why the phrase 'the right to remain silent' exists?"
I tilted my head, honestly confused about where this was going.
"Because lawyers like to trap people into saying the wrong thing," I answered.
"That is part of it, only the surface," she said.
She crossed one leg over the other, gaze drifting upward to the faint distortion of my lingering concept left in the air.
"In older ages, the law was loose and weak. People did not trust it. They believed the judgment of their god mattered more than anything humans could write down. The church knew this. They did not confront the law directly and, in fact, went along with it."
She tapped her finger against the seat, once, twice.
"The church then declared a new doctrine that aligns with it."
Her voice changed, slowing into an almost ceremonial tone.
"A devoted soul does not twist their tongue. A devoted soul does not stain their breath with falsehood. Whether before the divine gaze or before another mortal, truth is owed. A lie spoken is a sin carried."
She glanced at me. "Something like that."
"Sounds grand," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
Her finger stopped tapping.
"Because of that new doctrine, people became terrified of lying. Not only to priests. To neighbors. To guards. To judges. Everyone."
I could already see where this was going.
"And humans," she said, almost fondly, "are liars by nature."
Her gaze sharpened and locked onto me.
"So they found a gap. If speaking falsely was a sin, then not speaking at all carried no weight. Silence was not a lie. So silent was the route of not disobeying the doctrine."
"I cannot lie if I do not speak." She smirked lightly, looking at me like an open book.
"The church never corrected it," she said. "They benefited from it. Confession still mattered. Obedience still mattered. Silence only appeared when people were cornered."
"The law at that time took that fear and turned it into something official. They stripped the divine language away and kept the function," she went on.
She smiled straight at me.
Thus, the "Right to remain silent" was born.
"When people eventually realized their gods were not watching," she said, "that the gods they worshiped were the primordial colors, faith faded. Churches dissolved. The doctrine died."
She tapped the seat again and broke the stare in me.
The room felt quieter after that.
"Where are you going with this?" I asked.
She did not answer right away. Her eyes lingered on the distortion above us, the faint shimmer that refused to disappear.
"Are you," she said at last, "one of the rare ones who still lives by those doctrines?"
I thought of my previous world.
I found myself thinking about my previous world. Back there, I was technically a Christian, though lax in my beliefs. I accepted the existence of supernatural things like souls and a god, mostly because it was the simplest answer to the unknown.
I followed the motions of prayer and crossed myself, but it was out of respect for my family, who were faithfully devoted to their god, rather than any true conviction of my own.
I wiped at my nose. The blood had slowed, sticky and warm against my fingers.
"I am not," I said. "Everything I do is because I choose to. Because it pleases me."
She hummed softly.
"Hm. Is that so?"
We stayed seated, letting the quiet stretch between us. The only noise was the soft tap of her fingers on the chair beneath us, repeated over and over.
"Hey, Matt," she said suddenly. "Do you still remember what I told you?"
"About what?"
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "That I asked you to be my friend."
I blinked. "Yeah. And I said I would refuse unless you introduced me to another friend of yours fir—"
Pow.
"Ow!"
Her hand smacked into my shoulder harder than necessary. She looked away immediately, ears faintly red.
"Do not get stuck on the details," she said quickly. "Anyway. Ahem!"
She straightened herself, trying to recover some dignity.
"You just said that everything you do is because it pleases you," she continued. "So did you refuse to be my friend for the same reason?"
This girl....
The earlier conversation drifted back to me.
I let out a small breath and found myself smiling, awkward and unguarded. I stood, brushing dust from my clothes, then turned to face her.
"I will use my right to remain silent," I said. "See you tomorrow."
She stared at me for a moment, then let out a tired laugh.
"Hah. I guess guilt does not work on you."
She waved a hand, already looking away. "Yeah. See you tomorrow."
Her finger finally stopped tapping after that.
I went back to my dorm and noticed that Nagi was still not home.
I plopped down on my bed. I was hungry and had planned to cook dinner for both of us, but I was too tired and too lazy to cook.
I then muttered words under my breath. Status Window, and a familiar transparent screen was displayed in front of me.
_________________________________
〈 STATUS PANEL 〉
Name: Matthew Pier Salinin
Weaver: Conceptual Astute Weaver
Race: Human (Stabilized)
Core: BluePotential: SS
_________________________________
〈 STATS 〉
Strength: H+
Endurance: E+
Agility: G
ThrumCapacity: A
ThrumRecovery: G-
ThrumCircuit: D to D+
Mind: C-
_________________________________
〈 EXTRA STATS 〉
Charm: D
Luck: ####
_________________________________
〈UNIQUE SKILLS〉
Growth Factor — Rank A
Origin: Verde
Status: Passive
Effect: A conceptual fragment granted by Verde. Accelerates all forms of growth—physical, mental, conceptual, adaptive.
_________________________________
〈UNIQUE SKILLS〉
Growth Factor — Rank A
Origin: Verde
Status: Passive
Effect:
A conceptual fragment granted by Verde.Accelerates all forms of growth—physical, mental, conceptual, adaptive.
_________________________________
〈 AUTHORITY SLOT 〉
Authority: Flourish(Limited)
Origin: Verde
Status: Active
Effect: The user can flourish their thrum until it reaches instability, at which point it condenses into a concentrated energy burst and detonates.
Authority: Verde's Curse.
Origin: Verde
Status: Passive
Effect: Reduces Mind Stat by 5 stages unless the user consumes the required nourishment.
Required Nourishment:[Polaris's Blood]
_________________________________
"Tsk."I was annoyed at the screen in front of me.
The only real improvement this week was my thrum circuit. That also had to be the reason why I could partially discharge thrum outside my body now. But that was hardly anything. Next month, the first scenario begins. In the grand scheme of things, a tiny boost like a one-stage upgrade to my thrum circuit was almost meaningless.
Still… I couldn't completely dismiss it. Improving by one stage after only two days of practice wasn't something to scoff at. Most weavers spent months, sometimes years, just to increase a single base stat. And what made this possible?
Most likely, my Unique Skill passive, Growth Factor. The boon of my recklessness and the reward for scamming a primordial color in her face.
A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. That recklessness had its price, certainly, but sometimes it paid off more than I could have imagined.
My thoughts drifted further, and I wondered how Verde was doing now. Still bickering with Rouge, I presume, always trying to one-up him, even though she already was
I let the thought linger in the quiet of my room.
Eventually, my eyelids grew heavy, and I let myself sink into sleep, uniform still on, the weight of tomorrow pressing softly against my lobe.