Time passed...

Emma was already waiting when I arrived at our usual seat, her materials spread across the table in organized chaos. She looked up as I approached, and I could see the determination in her eyes.

"Last session before the exam," she said. "Let's make it count."

We'd been doing this for days now, her gradual withdrawal method, forcing my pathways to adapt. It had increased to sixty percent independence now, up from barely twenty percent when we'd started.

"Ready?" she asked.

I nodded, settling into the chair and closing my eyes.

The breathing exercises came naturally now. Center myself. Find the mana flowing through my pathways. Feel its rhythm, its movement.

"Now," Emma instructed softly.

I gathered the mana, pulling it toward my palms. The energy responded.

The sphere formed between my hands.

"Hold it," Emma said.

I held it, maintaining the concentration. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

The sphere wavered but didn't collapse.

Forty seconds. Fifty.

My arms started to tremble slightly. The mental strain built like pressure behind my eyes.

One minute.

"That's it," Emma said, her voice carrying quiet pride. "You're doing it mostly on your own now."

I could feel her subtle support, like a hand steadying a structure rather than holding it up entirely. But most of the work was mine.

One minute, fifteen seconds.

Then the sphere collapsed, mana dispersing into nothing.

I opened my eyes, breathing hard from the effort.

Though Emma was smiling. "Sixty-three seconds. That's incredible progress, Jin. That's more than you could do a week ago."

She was right. A week ago, I couldn't manifest anything without her complete support. Now I could hold a basic sphere for over a minute mostly independently.

Not impressive by Academy standards. But for someone with Hollow Resonance Syndrome, it was progress.

"Thank you," I said. "For all of this. The training, the research—"

"Stop thanking me," Emma interrupted gently. "Just come back safely. That's all the thanks I need."

I nodded.

She stood, gathering her materials. "The exam is tomorrow at dawn, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then get some rest today. Don't overtrain. Don't drain your mana doing last-minute preparations." Her expression turned stern. "Promise me."

I looked at her, then sighed.

"I promise."

She held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "Good luck, Jin. I know you can do this."

She left, her footsteps fading down the library halls.

I sat there for a while longer, staring at my hands.

Then opened the books I brought with me.

By the time I finished, afternoon sun had casted long shadows across the Academy courtyard.

I stood up and made my way back toward the dormitories. Most students were in classes or studying, leaving the paths relatively empty.

I was lost in thought, running through mental checklists, what-if scenarios when I saw her.

Cassandra Raith stood near the fountain in the main plaza, surrounded by other Student Council members.

She was speaking with them about something, her posture perfect, her silver hair catching the light in a way that made her look almost ethereal.

My older sister. The perfect daughter. Student Council President. Everything I wasn't.

Our eyes met across the plaza.

For a moment, I considered just walking past. Pretending I hadn't seen her. We'd barely spoken since I'd arrived at the Academy, by mutual unspoken agreement, we existed in separate worlds.

But she stopped mid-sentence, her attention fixed on me.

She said something to her companions and they dispersed, leaving her standing alone by the fountain.

Then she walked toward me.

I kept my expression neutral as she approached.

"Jin," she said, her voice cool and professional.

"You need something, sister?"

We stood there for a moment, two strangers who happened to share blood.

"I heard about your examination," she said finally.

Of course she had. As Student Council President, she probably knew everything that happened at the Academy.

"And?" I asked.

"Father knows as well. He sent a letter." She paused, something flickering across her expression too fast to read. "He expects you to fail."

I wasn't surprised. Our father had always expected me to fail at everything. Why would this be different?

"Of course he does," I said flatly.

Cassandra's expression remained unreadable. "Don't."

I blinked. "Don't what?"

"Fail." Her voice was firm. "It would reflect poorly on the family. A Raith repeating their first year would be... embarrassing."

I almost walked away. That's what she cared about? The family reputation?

But then she added, quieter, her gaze sliding away from mine, "And it would be inconvenient."

That made me stop.

I stared at her, trying to parse what that meant.

Inconvenient? For who? For what?

"What—" I started to ask.

But she was already walking away.

"Cassandra!"

She didn't turn back.

I stood there watching her rejoin her council members.

Inconvenient.

"What the hell was that supposed to mean?"

I rubbed the back of my head.

"Damn girl..."

Even though it's been more than eighteen months since I arrived in this world. She still made no sense.

Cedric, Victor, Father... they're simple creatures.

Father sees me as a stain on Raith name. He wants obedience, excellence and silence. From which I give him none.

Cedric is worse. He doesn't just hate me... he enjoys it. And after exile of his mother, he wants me gone, preferably buried.

Victor? He'll follow whichever direction the power tilts. If Father ordered him to slit my throat in night, he'd only ask if he needed to clean the knife after.

But Cassandara...

I can't decode that girl.

One day she acts like I don't exists, won't even spare me a glance.

The next, she mocks me like rest of them... as if she needs to prove she's one of them.

And sometimes... she'll stop. And listen, actually hear me for a moment like she almost gives a damn.

But the second I try to make sense of it, she slams the door shut and pretends nothing happened.

Just what the hell is she trying to do?

I don't know. And that pisses me off more than their hatred ever could.

She's like a locked book... written in a language I've never learned.

And I am here without any translator.

Eventually I reached the dorms.

The room was quiet when I returned. Kyle had left a note saying he'd be at the training halls until late.

I spread my equipment across my bed, checking everything methodically.

The leather armor I'd reinforced with Debug Vision. The edits had held, the structural improvements still there.

Three healing potions in their leather holders.

Two mana potions.

The oil lantern with three flasks of fuel.

Fifty feet of rope, reinforced at the fraying points.

Rations and waterskin. Basic but sufficient.

And my personal weapon, the longsword I'd bought weeks ago with the money from the slime extermination mission.

I drew it from the sheath slowly, testing the motion. The blade slid free smoothly, the well-worn scabbard offering no resistance.

Again. Draw, return. Draw, return.

Making sure my left hand could grip properly, that the injury wouldn't interfere.

After twenty repetitions, I was satisfied.

I sheathed the blade one final time and set it beside the rest of my gear.

Everything was ready.

Now I just had to be ready.

I sat on my bed, took a breath, and tried one more independent mana manifestation.

Closing my eyes, I focused inward.

I pulled the mana toward my palm, visualizing the pathways Emma had taught me to see, imagining the flow as something I could shape and control.

Energy flickered above my palm.

I held it.

Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

The sphere pulsed with my heartbeat.

Forty seconds. Fifty.

Sixty-three seconds.

Then it dispersed, the mana returning to my pathways.

I opened my eyes, staring at my palm.

Not perfect. Not even close to what a normal first-year could do.

But something I'd built through understanding my limitations and working within them.

Maybe that would be enough.

Slowly, night arrived.

And I couldn't sleep.

Just laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, watching shadows shift as clouds passed over the moon outside. Kyle had returned an hour ago, noticed I was "asleep," and settled into his own bed with minimal noise.

His breathing had evened out within minutes.

I envied him.

My thoughts spiraled, refusing to quiet.

The dungeon layout was unknown. Blackwood Crypt, how big was it? And what kind of guardian waited in the final chamber?

And I'll be completely alone in there.

No teammates to watch my back. No instructor supervision. No safety net.

Just me.

The memory surfaced unbidden of being alone in the manor after Father had fired Agnes.

Walking those empty halls, eating meals in silence, sleeping in a too-large room with no one to talk to.

The loneliness had been crushing.

And before that... in my previous life... after my sister...

I shook my head, forcing the memories away. That was then. This was now.

Sleep wouldn't come. My mind kept running.

So I just lay there.

Watching the shadows shift.

Waiting.

---

Dawn came...

I must have dozed off at some point because Kyle's voice pulled me back to awareness.

"Jin? You awake?"

I opened my eyes. Pale pre-dawn light filtered through the window. Kyle was sitting up in his bed, looking at me.

Then he noticed I was already dressed. Full gear, armor on, weapons secured.

"How long have you been ready?" he asked.

"A while."

He shook his head, standing and stretching. "You didn't sleep, did you?"

"Not much."

"Jin—"

"I'm fine," I said, cutting him off. "Just... ready to get this over with."

Kyle studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. He started getting dressed quickly. "I'm coming with you. To the staging area at least."

"You don't have to—"

"I know. I'm doing it anyway." He pulled on his boots. "You're my friend. I'm seeing you off."

I sighed and let him.

We gathered my equipment, Kyle insisting on carrying the heavier pack despite my protests and headed out into the pre-dawn darkness.

The Academy was mostly asleep, only a few early-rising students visible in the distance. Our footsteps echoed off stone walls as we made our way to the eastern gate.

The staging area was a small courtyard near the main gates where mission carts departed. A single covered wagon waited there, horses already hitched, driver checking the harnesses.

And Instructor Aldwin stood beside it, arms crossed, looking as severe as ever in the dim light.

He noticed us approaching and straightened slightly.

"Raith," he said, his voice gravelly. "You're early."

"Wanted to make sure I didn't miss the cart," I said.

His mouth twitched. "Punctuality. Good." He gestured to the wagon. "Load your gear. We depart in five minutes."

I moved to comply, but Kyle caught my arm.

"Hey," he said quietly. "You've got this. You hear me? You've survived everything else they've thrown at you. This is just one more challenge."

"One more," I agreed.

"And when you get back, we're celebrating."

"If I get back."

"When," Kyle insisted firmly. "When you get back."

I managed a small smile. "Alright. When."

He pulled me into a quick, tight hug. Then he stepped back, grinning.

"Go show them what you can do."

I loaded my pack into the wagon, secured my sword at my hip, and climbed into the back. The wooden bench was hard and uncomfortable, but functional.

Aldwin moved to the front, speaking briefly with the driver. Then he turned back to face me.

"Ready, Raith?"

I took a breath.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm ready."

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