Amy stared at the luxurious spread before her, still not quite believing this was her breakfast.

Back on Earth, breakfast had been a hastily grabbed granola bar or, on special occasions, some microwaved instant oatmeal. Here, a small feast awaited her this morning: freshly baked bread still warm from the oven, an assortment of unfamiliar but delicious fruits, creamy yogurt with honey, and a pot of fragrant tea that smelled like cinnamon and something else she couldn't identify.

The Book floated near the window of her dorm room, seemingly admiring the view of the Academy grounds bathed in early morning light. Sunbeams filtered through the tall windows, casting golden patterns across the polished wooden floor.

"You know," Amy said, taking a bite of a purple fruit that tasted like a mix of pear and strawberry, "I thought I'd miss Earth more."

[Oh? That’s surprising.] The Book's pages rustled as it turned toward her.

"Yeah." She gestured vaguely with her fork. "I mean, I should be homesick, right? Missing my apartment, my laptop, the internet… not fearing for my life." She glanced down at the purple fruit. "But honestly, I’m not like super worried. I still want to come back, of course. But like, I am not freaking out about it."

[The human capacity for adaptation is truly remarkable.]

Amy snorted. "Is that a fancy way of saying I've got low standards?"

[Not at all. Though, I’m sure your standards for living accommodations are questionable at best.]

"The hell do you mean by that? My apartment was... functional." Amy sipped her tea, savoring the warmth. "Okay, fine, it was a dump, and I loved it. But this place—" She gestured to the spacious room with its four-poster bed, ornate furniture, and private bathroom, "—is ridiculous. I'm basically living in a five-star hotel."

[Class S accommodations are designed to provide optimal conditions for study and rest. Your body and mind require proper nourishment and comfort to perform at their highest potential.]

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. The privilege of being special." Amy reached for a slice of bread, spreading some golden honey on it. "Still, it's weird that I don't miss technology more. I was practically glued to my phone back home."

The Book drifted closer to the table. [You've been otherwise occupied with matters of some significance. Preventing the apocalypse tends to take precedence over scrolling through social media.]

"True. The whole 'guiding Crow to a place where a bunch of students get murdered' thing is definitely a distraction."

[Will you go through with it?]

Amy sighed, her appetite diminishing slightly. "Do I have a choice? If I don't guide them there, someone else will. At least this way, I have some control over the situation. Maybe I can... change things."

[A noble sentiment.]

"Don't start with that 'noble' crap." Amy waved her fork dismissively. "I'm just being practical. I die if the world ends, remember?"

The Book's pages fluttered in what Amy had come to recognize as its version of a shrug. [As you say.]

Amy finished her breakfast in comfortable silence, occasionally glancing at the Book as it floated around her room. There was something soothing about its presence, she realized. In this strange world filled with unfamiliar faces and so many ways to kick the bucket, the Book had become her one constant companion.

"Hey," she said suddenly, setting down her teacup. "I just realized something."

[What's that?]

"I don't know what to call you. I've just been thinking of you as 'the Book' this whole time."

[That is what I am.]

"Yeah, but it's weird. It would be less strange if I had something I can call you.'" Amy pushed her empty plate aside and leaned forward. "Don't you have a name?"

[A name?] it finally replied, and there was that metallic quality to its voice again—a strange, robotic undertone that occasionally surfaced.

"Yeah, you know. A name. Something to call you besides 'hey you' or 'book.' Also, why does your voice do that sometimes?"

The book drifted backward slightly. [Do what?]

"That—that robotic sound. Like just now, when I asked about your name. Your voice changed."

[Perhaps it's merely your imagination.]

Amy narrowed her eyes. "Please, do I look like a dumbass to you? …Actually don’t answer that. Just respond to my question."

The book hovered in silence for several seconds.

[I’ll answer your previous question,] it finally said, its voice back to normal. [Regarding the name.]

Amy raised an eyebrow at the obvious subject change but decided not to push it. For now. "Fine. So, do you have one or not?"

[I... do not. At least, not one that would be pronounceable or meaningful to you.]

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's cryptic. What, is your real name like some eldritch horror thing that would drive me insane if I heard it?"

[Nothing so dramatic. It simply exists in a form unsuitable for verbal communication.]

"So what should I call you?"

[Is 'book' not sufficient?]

Amy made a face. "No? It's like calling a person 'human.' It’s plain weird."

[I am not a person.]

Something about the way it said that made Amy pause. She studied the floating tome for a silent second before speaking again.

"Maybe not," she said slowly. "But you're definitely a someone. You think and talk and have opinions—mostly snarky ones. You deserve a name."

The book drifted in a slow circle as if considering her words. [I suppose if it would make our communication more... comfortable for you, I could accept a designation.]

Amy grinned. "Great! How about 'Snarky McFloaty'?"

[Absolutely not.]

"Booky McBookface?"

[I'm beginning to regret this conversation.]

Amy laughed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Okay, okay. Let me think seriously for a minute." She rested her chin on her hand, contemplating. “Ok, first of all, would you prefer feminine or masculine names?”

[I have no strong preference for any of them, but if I had to chose I will go with feminine.]

“I see… Then how about something like... Athena or Merlin?"

[Those are rather predictable choices.]

"Well, excuse me ma'am for my lack of imagination," Amy huffed. "What would you pick?"

The book was silent for a moment. [I don’t know...]

Amy sighed. "...I always have to do everything..." She said, then stood up and began pacing the small room. "How about... Grimora? Like grimoire, but also kinda grim, which fits your whole mysterious vibe."

[Unimaginative.]

"Chrona? Since you're all about the story progression and time stuff."

[Sounds bad.]

Amy threw up her hands in exasperation. "You're not exactly helping here! Fine, what about..." She paused, a memory surfacing from her literature classes. "Libris. It means 'book' in Latin, I think. Or something related to books anyway. Not really a female name, but you said you don’t care much, right?"

[Maybe…?]

"Okay, Libris it is then." Amy grinned triumphantly. "Unless you have a better suggestion?"

[Libris,] it repeated as if testing how the name felt. [It's... acceptable.]

"Don't strain yourself with the enthusiasm there."

[I didn't say I disliked it. Merely that it's acceptable.]

"So... Can I call you that? Libris?"

Another moment of silence, then: [Yes. You may.]

"Cool." Amy smiled, feeling oddly accomplished. "Well, Libris. Now that we've sorted that out, I should probably check what fresh hell awaits me today." She reached for the schedule that had been delivered right after she woke up.

The parchment was thick and cream-colored, with an elegant script detailing her classes for the week. Amy squinted at the ornate lettering, trying to make sense of the complicated timetable.

She held the schedule at arm's length, tilting her head. "Okay, so today is... 'Channeling Techniques for Special Abilities' with Professor Lirienne at nine, then 'Historical Applications of Magic' after lunch, and then... is that 'Practical Combat' with Professor Drayke."

Amy glanced at the clock on her bedside table and groaned.

Someone save me…

-————-　■　-————-

"Today," Professor Lirienne announced, her melodic voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber, "we will be exploring the practical aspects of channeling your special abilities."

Amy settled into her seat, pulling out Libris and pen from her satchel. She had asked the book if she could write on it, and after a looong debate with tons of objections and arguments, she finally managed for it to agree.

"The key to effective channeling," Lirienne continued, "lies in understanding the unique nature of your ability and how it connects to your magical core."

She waved her hand, and a shimmering diagram appeared in the air above the central platform—a complex web of light that pulsed with rainbow colors.

"Your magical core—" she gestured to the bright sphere at the center of the diagram, "—is the source of all your power. But your special ability—" the light shifted, forming a distinct pathway that branched from the core, "—draws from this source in a unique way."

Amy found herself already getting bored of the lecture. She began thinking that there must be something genuinely wrong with her brain because it wasn’t normal that she was in a class teaching how to use superpowers and she found it boring.

She lightly smacked her face and reminded herself to concentrate. This would be helpful, at least that was what Libris said. Her life was on the line, it would be stupid to die because of laziness. Moreover, the lesson wasn’t bad at all, with all the projections and stuff it was actually quite well made, the problem here was herself honestly.

"Today, you will be working in pairs," Lirienne announced, surprising Amy out of her reverie. "Second-years will guide first-years through basic channeling exercises. The goal is not to fully activate your abilities, but to become conscious of how they draw from your magical core."

Oh, dear god… I withdraw what I said, this class sucks!

Amy felt a wave of dread wash over her. Group work. The bane of her existence.

[Try not to set anyone on fire.]

"Shut up," Amy muttered under her breath. "I don't even know how to channel my ability."

[That's the point of the exercise, to teach you how to do it.]

Before Amy could retort, Professor Lirienne began calling out pairs. "Stella Brighthaven with Ash Lockwood. Alba Silvermoon with Lyra Thornfield. Tallen Blackwood with Crow Thorne..."

Amy's heart sank as she realized she was almost certainly going to be paired with—

"Amy Stake with Zayd Gaspard."

Of course, the two seers in the class. It made sense, but that did not mean she liked it. She still remembered the implications that creepy uncle had made about them.

Well, it could be worse… at least the teacher made the pairing herself, because if she was forced to find a teammate it would have been awkward.

She glanced across the room to where the dark-haired boy sat alone, his face expressionless as he closed the ancient tome he'd been reading. He looked up, his amber eyes meeting hers for a brief, uncomfortable moment before he stood and walked toward her.

[This day just got considerably more interesting.]

"Interesting isn't the word I'd use," Amy muttered as Zayd approached, his walk graceful and measured.

He stopped before her desk, regarding her with those unsettling amber eyes. "Amy Stake," he said, his voice soft but clear. "It seems we'll be working together."

Amy forced a neutral expression. "Looks that way."

Zayd took the seat beside her with an unreadable expression, setting his book down with a quiet thump. Amy could almost feel the weight of his scrutiny, but she refused to acknowledge it.

Professor Lirienne clapped her hands, and the shimmering diagram above them shifted again, this time forming delicate lines that linked the paired students. Amy watched with mild interest as a thin thread of light stretched between her and Zayd, glowing a soft gold.

"First-years, close your eyes," Lirienne instructed. "Second-years, place your hand just above your partner’s wrist. Gently—this is about sensing the flow of energy, not forcing it."

Amy hesitated for only a second before closing her eyes. She heard Zayd shift beside her, then felt the faintest brush of warmth hovering over her skin.

"Now, first-years, I want you to focus inward," Lirienne continued. "Your magical core is always present, always moving. Try to sense where your ability connects to it."

Amy frowned slightly, doing as instructed. It felt... strange. Her magic had always been there—just got it the other day—but she had never tried to truly feel it before.

[So romantic.]

Libris’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she twitched.

"Focus," Zayd said quietly.

Her annoyance flared, but she took a slow breath, forcing herself to push past the distractions—Libris’s unhelpful commentary, Zayd’s presence, and the soft murmur of the other students. She turned her attention inward, searching for something—anything—that felt like the "magical core" Professor Lirienne described.

At first, there was nothing but the usual hum of her thoughts, but then—

A flicker. A pulse of something just beyond her awareness. It wasn’t a solid thing, more like a current running beneath the surface, shifting just out of reach.

It was strange. Elusive. And when she tried to grasp it, it slipped away like mist between her fingers.

"Hm."

She cracked open an eye at Zayd’s quiet sound. His gaze was on her, though his hand remained hovering just above her wrist, fingers still and relaxed. He wasn’t even looking at her like a normal person—no, there was something analytical about it, like he was studying her reactions more than participating in the exercise itself.

"What?" she asked, keeping the mistrust from her voice.

"You flinched."

Amy blinked. Had she? She hadn’t even noticed.

"Did you sense it?" he asked, his tone unreadable.

Amy hesitated, then muttered, "I think so." She glanced toward Lirienne, who was still walking among the pairs, watching with a serene expression.

Zayd nodded, as if confirming something to himself. "Try again. But don’t chase it. Just let it come to you."

Amy inhaled and shut her eyes again. This time, she didn’t reach for the magic. She simply observed.

The pulse was still there, but now that she wasn’t chasing it, it became clearer. Warmer. It moved, not like a steady beat, but in unpredictable waves, stretching and pulling like a tide beneath her skin.

And then—something else. A thread, lighter than air, connected to it. Not her own.

Zayd’s?

[Mastery increased to level 3, congratulations. Now you might even be able to use your powers somewhat.]

Her eyes snapped open. The golden thread of magic between them had brightened slightly. Zayd was still watching her, his expression composed, but something flickered in his amber eyes.

"You felt it," he said, not a question.

Amy didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure she liked the fact that their magic seemed to react to each other. That was weird. And also, given what she knew about his family—uncomfortable.

Lirienne clapped her hands. "Good. That’s enough for now. First-years, take a moment to reflect on what you experienced. Second-years, you may release the connection."

Amy felt the warmth near her wrist vanish as Zayd withdrew his hand.

Zayd studied her for a moment before nodding slightly. "Not bad," he commented before picking up his book and walking away back towards his place.

[Well that was anticlimactic.]

Amy looked at the book, and surprisingly found herself agreeing with it.

In the manga, Zayd was always painted in a somewhat negative light. Not villain nor antagonistic, but periodically almost getting there. So she had expected for their first interaction to go somewhat badly. Instead, it was quite neutral.

“Say, what are the chances he knows everything the Academy has recorded about my powers and has done a deep investigation of my past?”

[99%]

“...”

Honestly, what did she expect? Privacy didn't exist when one of the teachers was literally your uncle.

But enough about Zayd—she should focus instead on the most important part.

“So did I level up?”

[Yup, congratulations. Your mastery has increased to level 3. I believe that now you might be able to start using your powers.]

Amy blinked, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. Level 3. It wasn’t much, but considering she’d basically been fumbling in the dark with her powers since she got here, it was progress.

“I see. Then, can I see my status?”

Libris didn’t respond immediately. A long pause stretched between them, long enough for Amy to frown.

“…Libris?”

[Currently updating.]

“Updating?” Amy repeated.

[Currently updating. As of right now, your status will not reflect your powers properly when the next chapter updates. It’s...complicated.]

Amy blinked. “Complicated how?”

[Your power isn’t something I can analyze easily. It’s not like normal magic—it doesn’t follow the usual rules. I’m trying to update your status, but it’s taking time to process all the intricacies behind it.]

That was… unexpected. “So, what? My power’s too weird for you to figure out?”

[Essentially, yes.]

Amy frowned. "Is it really that complicated? I mean, last time you did it on the spot, right after I got them."

Libris hesitated. It was subtle, but she recognized the delay in its response. When it finally spoke, the usual snark was absent.

[It’s… changed.]

"Changed how?"

[The complexity grew. That’s why I need time to update.]

The words were cold, clinical—almost detached. And yet, something about that response unsettled her. Then, she noticed something else.

The voice had shifted. It had become robotic again.

Amy's breath caught in her throat as a realization struck her. She thought back to every time Libris had done this. The sudden tonal shift, the unnatural calmness, the absence of its usual personality.

It had always happened at very specific moments.

Amy’s lips curled into a small, knowing smirk as the realization struck her brain. "Libris," she said slowly, "are you perhaps…embarrassed?"

A long pause.

[...no.] it responded, still in that artificial voice.

Amy’s smirk widened. "OMG, you totally are."

[You are being irrational.]

She chuckled. “Awww~ That’s actually so cute.”

[...]

“So each time you changed your voice to the robotic one, was it because you were trying to conceal your emotions?”

Another pause, this one even longer.

Then, the robotic voice appeared again—

[You misunderstand.]

Amy raised an eyebrow, a smile still on her lips. "Oh? Then explain."

[You are indeed correct that I am embarrassed at not performing as well as I desired…]

Amy grinned at that.

[However, the voice you’re hearing right now is not something I put on to hide my emotions…]

“Then what it is?”

Silence seemed to keep stretching. Through it all Lirienne continued her lecture, but Amy could not hear her at all. Instead, her whole attention was on the book, her smile disappearing as the silence elongated.

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she was pretty sure the atmosphere of the conversation had changed.

As minutes kept passing she began feeling regret at voicing that question. Whatever it had been, she had clearly touched a sensitive topic.

Amy opened her mouth, ready to apologize but before she could, just at the same instant the book finally spoke.

[This is my true voice. The one I was made with.]

Amy blinked.

[This artificial voice—this…monotony. It is my default. The voice you usually hear, its tone, its humor, as well as its humanity, is something I have copied.] There was a beat of silence before it added, [So, you were wrong. Each time I changed my voice, it wasn't to conceal my emotions. On the contrary, it is a system built in me that shows my partial lack of them.]

Amy didn’t know what to say to that.

Her fingers tightened as she processed the revelation. After a long pause, she exhaled and asked the only thing that came to mind.

“…Was it the Goddess who made you this way?”

Libris didn’t answer immediately. Then, in that same robotic tone, it finally responded:

[No. The Goddess was the one who saved me.]

Amy's breath caught in her throat. She stared at the book in her hands, trying to process what it had just said.

"...Saved you?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

[Correct.]

Amy frowned. That didn't make any sense. "That shitty Goddess? The same one who threw me into this shithole for a stupid ass reason?" Her voice dripped with skepticism. "You're saying she actually did something good?"

[That is the truth.]

Amy clicked her tongue but didn’t press further. There was a part of her that wanted to dig deeper, to demand answers—but another part of her warned against it. She would rather not make things even more awkward.

Instead, she let out a small sigh and leaned back in her chair. “Either way, just so you know—you can talk however you want. Use whatever voice you prefer. That’s not something I care about. In fact, this one sounds kinda cute in a weird abstract way."

For a moment, Libris remained silent. Then, it responded, [I appreciate that. However, I will continue speaking in my usual snarky tone… And it would be better if we both pretend this conversation never happened.]

She raised an eyebrow at that but simply nodded. "Sure."

With that, she finally turned her attention back to the front of the classroom, where Lirienne was still lecturing as if nothing had happened.