[It’s time. Wake up.]

“...”

[Amy. You'll be late to the inauguration if you don’t get up.]

“…mmgh.”

[Wake up or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.]

Amy groaned, pulling the blanket over her head and curling into a ball, attempting to block out the sound.

[Alright, you brought this upon yourself.]

The book inhaled—despite having no lungs—and let out a bellowing:

[AMY. WAKE UP!!]

She lurched upright as if electrocuted, breath ragged, heart hammering against her ribs.

"WHAT?!" she screeched, eyes wide, heart racing.

Disoriented, her bloodshot eyes darted across the room, trying to understand the situation she was in until they locked in the book hovering right in front of her. When her mind finally caught up, she let out a long sigh.

She groaned as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the tall windows of her quarters. She hadn't bothered to close the curtains last night, a decision she now deeply regretted.

"Kill me now," she muttered by instinct, and rapidly regretted it.

What followed those words were bad memories; the face of a girl she would never forget reappeared in her mind. She grimaced and had to stop her hands from visibly shaking. Luckily, she was quite experienced in controlling her discomfort. The emotions she felt at that instant retreated as fast as they arrived, tucking themselves into the deepest corner of her brain.

The book, which floated lazily up to hover at eye level, had luckily not taken note of her short slip.

[Good morning to you, too, sunshine. Did you have a restful sleep?]

“...”

She took a deep breath before forcing herself out of bed, limbs sluggish, and trudged toward the washbasin. After splashing her face with water, she stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror, dark circles barely visible under her eyes. Her normally vibrant golden hair was all over the place.

"I look like shit," she muttered, splashing more cold water on her face.

[Perhaps you should have slept instead of spending six hours staring at your status and waving your hands around.]

Amy smiled dryly before patting her face dry with a plush towel. "Remind me again how exactly I'm supposed to use these powers? Ms.VideoGame-System."

[I never claimed to be knowledgeable about your abilities. I merely facilitated your access to information about them.]

“That doesn’t even make sense…” Amy groaned, her eyes burned as she stared at her reflection, watching herself comb her hair. She'd barely slept, spending most of the night attempting to access her supposed "Fate" powers—with absolutely nothing to show for it.

"Funny," she muttered, continuing by applying makeup provided by the Academy. "I've been accepted as a Seer, but I can't actually see anything…so funny."

The book floated lazily above the washbasin. [Perhaps you're trying too hard?]

"Or maybe," Amy said, while brushing her teeth, "thezze are the kinz of powerz that are corrpletely arzbitrary and only workz whenz the plotz demarrds it."

[First of all, don’t speak with your mouth full of toothpaste. It’s undignified.]

Amy spat into the basin, rinsed her mouth, and wiped her face with an exasperated sigh. “Second of all?”

[Second of all, fate magic is a rare and complex art. You are a complete novice in this field, so even if your abilities are powerful, it would take a great deal of effort to master them.]

“Nice…” Amy turned away from the mirror, letting out a long sigh. “How long until class…?”

[Twenty minutes.]

Amy froze, her eyes fully open. “Twenty—?!”

[Yes, twenty. Did you forget that you asked me to let you sleep as much as possible?]

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She flung open her wardrobe, yanking out the Academy’s signature uniform—a high-collared navy-dark coat, golden embroidery tracing the cuffs, and an annoying number of buttons.

“Ugh! What kind of school has its inauguration the same day as its class starts!?”

[Oh, they don’t. That’s just for first-year students of class S.]

“Fuck me…” She cursed under her breath as she fought her way into the outfit, hopping on one foot while trying to shove the other into her boot. “…at this rate, I’ll arrive late..”

She glanced toward the clock in the corner of her room, then at the Academy uniform. Then back to the clock. Then back to the uniform. Then—

“…Hey, book?”

[Yes?]

She hesitated, then turned toward it, putting on her best pleading expression. “Can you put on my uniform for me?”

[No.]

Amy’s hopeful expression crumbled instantly. “What do you mean, no? C’mon, what does it cost you!?”

[You seem to have forgotten,] the book said, hovering closer to her face. [Yesterday, I explicitly stated that the outfit I conjured for you was my last favor.]

“…Yeah, but that was yesterday.”

[I fail to see your reasoning.]

Amy groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “C’moooon, you like helping me, don’t you?”

[Debatable.]

“Wow. I see how it is.” She crossed her arms, scowling at it. “After all we’ve been through, I thought we were friends.”

[...]

The book remained silent for what felt like a long time. Amy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling awkward.

"What? Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" she asked, scratching her head.

[Are we...friends?] The question came out with a robotic voice, not a hint of emotion could be heard on it.

Amy was slightly taken aback by the sudden turn in the atmosphere. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. Her brows furrowed as she considered the question more seriously.

"I—uh...I dunno," she said finally, still scratching her head. "I never really had friends, to be honest..."

She looked down at her feet, then back at the floating book. "...maybe?" she offered, struggling to get the words out. "I mean, we just met yesterday, but..."

The words died in her throat and the silence took hold once again, stretching between them for several long moments, during which Amy began to wonder if she'd said something wrong. Then, without warning, the book began to emit a soft, warm golden light.

The light enveloped Amy, and she gasped as she felt the still unfamiliar sensation of magic washing over her skin. When the glow faded, she looked down to find herself fully dressed in her Academy uniform—every button fastened, every crease perfect. There was even a leather satchel she did not ask for.

"Uhh…thanks," Amy said, her cheeks warming with embarrassment though she wasn't entirely sure why. She smoothed her hands over the perfectly fitted uniform, avoiding looking directly at the book.

[You'd better hurry,] the book replied, its tone back to business as usual. [You'll be late to the inauguration if you don't leave now.]

“Yeah, right.”

Amy cleared her throat, then she paused in front of the small mirror, studying her reflection. Despite the lack of sleep, she still looked unnervingly perfect—her skin clear, her eyes bright despite their redness. The uniform fit as if it had been tailored specifically for her. Even exhausted, she looked like she belonged on the cover of a fantasy novel.

"This is all wrong," she said suddenly.

[What’s wrong? Don’t like your appearance anymore?]

"Not that. I mean, these powers—they're too arbitrary. The only time I've accessed any sort of ability was during that test, and even then it was like... like it happened to me rather than me controlling it."

[And what are you planning to do about it?]

Amy thought for a moment, then turned towards the book. "If I make people think I have specific, consistent powers that I control, even if I don't fully understand them yet, it would be enough, right?"

[If you pair that with training, then yes.]

“I see,” Amy replied, grabbing a small leather satchel and sliding the card the Academy had given her to verify her identity. "Then, I’ll need to create limitations that make sense and establish clear boundaries for what I can and can't do. That way, when I inevitably fail to predict something, I can point to those limitations rather than just look incompetent."

[Clever. Though, I warn you, if the limitations are too nonexistent, I’ll be obligated to nerf it, after all the story might suffer from it, and we can’t have that.]

“How much nerf are we talking about here…?”

[Depends on what these supposed limitations are.]

"I'm still working on that part," Amy admitted, checking her appearance one last time in the mirror. "But I'm thinking something like... I can see and follow the general paths of fate to reach my objective, but I don’t exactly know the details of how I get there.”

[Not bad. It also explains your encounter with Crow at the teahouse and the whole waiting-for-signs thing.]

Amy grimaced. "You just reminded me of all those comments about us," she said, hoisting the satchel over her shoulder. "Another thing to deal with—avoiding any more romantic subplot nonsense. I'm here to save the world, not to get entangled in some harem drama."

[Good luck with that. The artist seemed quite intent on establishing chemistry between you two.]

"Well, the artist can shove it," Amy muttered, heading for the door, and then exiting her dorm.

Amy stepped out of her dorm room into the grand hallway of the Academy residence, pausing to take in her surroundings. The marble floors gleamed with a faint magical sheen, and ornate tapestries with deep quotes adorning the walls.

"Let's get this over with," she muttered, making her way toward what appeared to be an oversized birdcage made of intertwining blue branches that seemed to be growing directly from the marble floor. Inside the structure was... nothing. Just empty space.

"Is that...?"

[An elevator. Yes.]

"I bet it is dangerous, that thing looks dangerous," Amy grumbled.

[It's actually quite an ingeniously safe application of spatial folding magic. The Academy spans multiple dimensional planes, making conventional transportation impractical.]

"Spare me the lecture," Amy said, hesitantly approaching the cage as her turn came up. "Will it hurt?"

[Only if you resist the transition.]

"That's not reassuring!" she hissed but stepped into the cage anyway.

As Amy entered, a circular platform rimmed with runes began glowing faintly.

[Step onto the circle and think of where you need to go. The Academy's transportation system responds to intent.]

"So I just... think 'main hall' or something?"

[Precisely.]

She closed her eyes, concentrated, and immediately felt a gentle rush of air as the platform descended. When she opened her eyes, they had already arrived at the ground floor, where streams of students in identical navy uniforms flowed toward a massive building in the distance.

"That was... surprisingly efficient," Amy admitted, joining the flow of students and trying to look like she belonged.

[The Academy prides itself on its magical infrastructure. Though I suppose anything would feel efficient compared to your world's subway system.]

“It wasn't that bad…” She retorted, adjusting her satchel as she followed the crowd.

Two female students walking nearby with elf ears glanced her way, then quickly turned to whisper to each other. A tall boy with glasses and a lot of fur? did a double-take as she passed.

"I'm never going to get used to this," Amy muttered, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

[The attention? I thought humans generally enjoyed being considered attractive.]

"Maybe normal people," Amy whispered, keeping her voice low so she didn’t look like an insane person talking to nothing. "It's not like I was a timid person, but I always have disliked too much attention. This is... disorienting."

The Academy grounds spread before Amy as she walked, an impossible landscape of floating gardens, gravity-defying architecture, and ornate spires that seemed to pierce the very sky. Students streamed around her like schools of fish.

"It's not just the attention," Amy continued, keeping her voice low enough that passersby wouldn't notice she was talking to thin air. "It's this kind of attention. Back home, if someone looked at me twice, it was usually because I had food on my face or something."

[Your current form aligns better with narrative expectations, don’t you think?]

"Narrative expectations," Amy muttered, rolling her eyes. "Because that's what matters when the world is at stake, to join Crow's harem…”

[Isn't that exactly what you wanted yesterday?]

"I want to be part of the story," Amy clarified, "not the main character. And definitely not the center of some ridiculous love polygon."

She thought about the reader comments she'd seen. The shipping wars. The theories about her powers. The predictions about her disrupting Class S dynamics.

"I need to find a balance," she said, more to herself than to the book. "If the story starts pushing some romance subplot between us, I'll have half the shippers hating me within chapters. I need allies, not enemies."

[Ah. Politics.]

"Exactly. I'll keep my distance from Crow and his group, but not too much. I need to be connected to the main plot without becoming the main plot."

[I see. Then, it might be a good idea for me to start being more discreet.] The book floated into her leather satchel.

Amy glanced down at her bag with a frown. "Hey, are you sure you're comfortable in there? You can float instead if you want."

The book didn't respond immediately. After some seconds of silence, it finally spoke.

[You don't need to be concerned about my comfort,] it replied, in the same robotic voice from their somewhat awkward moment earlier. [I am perfectly capable of existing in any state or location.]

"Right..." Amy said, adjusting her satchel. "I just thought—"

[Walk faster. The inauguration ceremony is about to begin, and you don't want to be late on your first day.]

Amy rolled her eyes, “Yes Mom.” She said while quickening her pace, following the stream of students toward the grand hall where plumes of colorful smoke occasionally erupted from its spires.

-————-　■　-————-

The Academy's main hall was even more impressive from the inside. Vaulted ceilings stretched impossibly high, supported by columns of shifting energy. Hundreds of students had already gathered, separated into distinct sections based on their year and classification.

Amy stood at the entrance, momentarily paralyzed by the spectacle. Students filed past her on either side, many giving her subtle glances, because they obviously had nothing better to do.

At the front of the hall stood a raised dais where a row of distinguished-looking instructors sat watching as students filed in. Amy scanned their faces, wondering which ones would be teaching her class.

"Everyone please, find your respective class designations and stand with your groups." A voice called out, and she actually recognized the person. It was Magistra Lyrien, the same officer who had overseen her inscription. She looked busy.

Amy watched her for a few more seconds before her attention returned with the task at hand. She scanned the area, identifying the sections for each class. Most students were gathered in their respective areas—Classes A through F forming the bulk of the assembly. But at the very front, closest to the elevated platform where instructors stood, was a small, elite group.

Class S.

Only about twenty students stood in this section, their uniforms marked with a gold emblem on their chest. They stood slightly apart from each other, as if each were maintaining their own space.

She scanned the faces, immediately recognizing Crow standing with the now-familiar trio—the blonde boy Ash, the redhead Lyra, and the pale-haired Lain. Several yards away from them stood a thin, dark-haired boy she recognized from the manga as Zayd, the other Seer, and many other side characters such as Iris.

"They're all here," Amy whispered to the book, which was now disguised as a normal leather-bound tome. "The whole cast."

[Indeed. All thirteen from last year plus the six new students from this year.]

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and walked toward the Class S section, trying to project confidence she absolutely did not feel. As she approached, several heads turned her way.

A tall instructor standing near the Class S section consulted a clipboard and then raised an eyebrow at Amy's approach.

"Your identification, please," he asked crisply.

Amy took the card from her satchel and gave it to him. He inspected it for a moment before nodding and giving it back.

Amy felt the weight of curious stares as the instructor directed her to stand with the Class S students, specifically with a small group of six who stood slightly apart from the rest.

"The other new additions to Class S," the instructor explained briefly before walking away.

Amy nodded politely to her fellow newcomers—three young men and three other women, all looking as nervous and out-of-place as she felt. None returned her greeting, too busy sizing each other up with wary expressions.

From across the Class S section, Amy could feel Crow's eyes on her. She risked a glance in his direction and found him indeed watching her, a slight furrow between his brows.

Amy hesitated only briefly before offering a small wave. Ignoring him would be awkward, especially after their interaction yesterday, and might draw even more attention than a simple greeting.

Crow gave a nod in return, his expression thoughtful. Beside him, the auburn-haired girl—Lyra—noticed the exchange and immediately frowned, leaning closer to Crow and whispering something in his ear. The tall, elegant girl with silver hair—Lain—merely observed with cool detachment, while the broad-shouldered young man—Ash—grinned widely and nudged Crow with his elbow.

Amy quickly looked away, focusing instead on the platform at the front of the hall where a tall, regal-looking old woman was approaching a podium made of what appeared to be living wood. The ambient chatter in the hall immediately died down as she raised her hand.

"Welcome, students of the Royal Academy of Mystical Arts," the woman's voice carried effortlessly throughout the massive space without any apparent magical amplification. "I am Headmistress of this institution and Archmage Elyndra. To our returning students, welcome back. To our new students—" her eyes turned towards the Class S section, "—congratulations on passing the trials. Your journey begins today."

Amy stood perfectly still, trying to absorb every detail. The Headmistress was even more imposing in person than she'd imagined from the manga's depictions—tall, with silver-streaked black hair pulled into an elaborate updo, and eyes that seemed to shift between green and gold depending on the light. In the books, her special ability was never revealed, which added mystery to her identity.

"For centuries, this Academy has trained the greatest ability users of our realm," Elyndra continued. "You stand in a tradition of excellence and duty. The knowledge you learn here is not merely for your personal advancement but for the protection and betterment of our world against the evil forces who might want to destroy it."

The Archmage's gaze swept across the assembly, and Amy could have sworn her eyes paused momentarily on her.

For the love of god, please be my imagination…!

[Uh, I think she was staring at you for a second.]

Ughhhh…!!! Why did she glance at me with a smile during “the evil forces who might want to destroy it”!? Ughhhh…!

"This year is unlike any other," the Headmistress said, her tone growing more serious. "The signs are clear to those who can read them. The ancient patterns shift. The stars speak of change."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Amy felt a chill run down her spine, knowing exactly what these ominous words referenced—the coming catastrophe, the event that started this year and only got worse, the big thing she was here to prevent.

[Subtle,] the book commented dryly from her satchel.

"Your instructors this year have been chosen with particular care," Elyndra continued. "They will push you beyond what you believe possible because what was sufficient yesterday will not be enough for tomorrow."

The Headmistress gestured to the row of instructors seated behind her, each nodding as their name was called. Amy recognized several from the manga—not their names but she did remember their faces.

Kinda surprised I remember so much, even though not only this arc was a while ago but also I skipped so many chapters… The manga is still shit, though…

"And finally," Elyndra said, "I am pleased to announce that Class S will have a change of instructor for Prophetic Arts this year. Magister Kaelen has returned from his expedition to the Outer Reaches."

A tall man with stark white hair, despite his apparently young age, stood and gave a slight bow. His eyes were completely black, without visible pupils or irises, and when he smiled, something about it made Amy's skin crawl.

I don’t remember this guy…

[Interesting. He wasn't in the original story.]

WHAT!???

Amy tensed. A new character—already significant changes to the timeline she knew. She had only been here for a day! What the fuck was this scam.

“...I want my money back…”

[What are you even talking about…?]

After a lot of blah, blah, about valours and rules, the Archmage concluded the ceremony with a series of announcements about scheduling and Academy regulations before dismissing the assembly with a final statement: "Remember, you have been chosen not for who you are, but for who you might become. Do not waste this opportunity."

As the ceremony ended, second-year students were permitted to leave while first-years were instructed to remain for an orientation tour. The Headmistress approached the Class S section personally.

"Second-years, you may proceed to your advanced classes," she said to the thirteen returning students. "First-years, you will join me for a special orientation before meeting your seniors for afternoon instruction."

As the second-years began to file out, Amy noticed Crow hesitating, his eyes finding hers in the crowd. After a brief moment of indecision, he broke away from his group and approached her.

[So popular.]

Omg…right now really isn’t the moment…

Unaware of her inner thoughts, Crow approached regardless, and stopped just a few steps away, his expression unreadable.

"You’re not surprised to see me here, are you?" Amy asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Crow’s gaze flicked over her, assessing. "Not particularly. But I am curious."

Amy tilted her head, schooling her expression into one of knowing fake amusement. "Curious about what?"

Crow didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, like he was trying to puzzle something out. Finally, he said, "I want to make a deal."

Amy blinked. "A deal?"

"I’ll explain later.”

Amy raised an eyebrow, but before she could press for details, the Headmistress turned her gaze on them.

"Miss Stake." The voice of the Headmaster prompted in Amy a barely resistible urge to bow her head. It felt like she was gazing at that random police officer whom she had, without wanting to, dropped hot coffee on his face.

Bad memories.

Amy gave a nod to Crow, which he returned, and then turned away, leaving with the first years.

Once Elyndra's eyes finally left her, Amy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

The Headmistress was now gesturing for the first years to follow. The other six new Class S students hesitated, exchanging wary glances before stepping forward.

Amy followed alongside them, keeping her posture relaxed, her expression unreadable. At this point, she was starting to get used to acting all the time.

They walked through the vast, twisting halls of the Academy, led by the Headmistress herself. Students and instructors alike parted as they passed, some whispering in hushed tones. She supposed it wasn’t every day that somebody got a personal tour from the Archmage Elyndra.

Amy barely paid attention.

Instead, her mind wandered to the past.

To herself, one month before the goddess decided to punish her for the horrific crime of trashing a manga online.

To the moment she quit school at sixteen, walking out of the dreary classroom for the last time.

To that brief, burning flicker of freedom, yet also desolate period.

Only a month since I left…and yet here I am.

Here she was, stuck in another prison, just one with prettier chains.

She flexed her fingers, exhaling through her nose. No use thinking about it. The past was the past. The only thing she could do now was move forward—and figure out how the hell she was supposed to stop this world from falling apart.

If only things could be easier…