[Location: Drifter's Bedroom – Verm Evocaier Academy]

  Damn... it......

  Each breath felt heavy in Drifter's lungs, as if pulling an invisible weight. His eyes remained wide open, refusing to close despite his muscles screaming with exhaustion.

  Whenever his eyelids grew heavy, the images came crashing back: Luna lying amidst the rubble, her skin bckened and blistered; Friedrich, colpsed, his body unrecognizable; Alma, once so cheerful, now a charred figure among the ruins. Familiar faces twisted into masks of pain, their eyes wide in their final moments of agony.

  His heart pounded against his ribs, sweat dripping from his temple. His hands gripped the bedsheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white, desperate for an anchor to reality that felt increasingly distant. The air in the room grew suffocating, as though the walls were slowly closing in, driving the horrifying visions closer.

  "Just a dream," he whispered shakily, trying to reassure himself. "Just... a dream..."

  Sharp nails dug into his palms, creating pinpricks of pain. The sting served as an anchor, pulling his mind back from the abyss that threatened to consume it. But the shadows lingered, dancing at the edge of his vision, mocking his efforts to stay awake.

  He rolled onto his side, staring bnkly at the shadows that seemed to shift on their own in the corners of the room. The darkness there felt thicker, deeper—like something lurking within, watching with unseen eyes.

  With trembling hands, his fingers brushed against his Lumina Core, activating the Arcane Network screen. A soft blue light spread across the room, pushing back the oppressive darkness. Cheerful ughter from a comedy show filled the silence—familiar sounds meant to ease sleepless nights.

  Slowly, his tense muscles began to rex. The absurd gestures and simple jokes on the screen created a fragile illusion of safety.

  Then the screen froze.

  The ughter cut off mid-sentence—at the same time, the world around him twisted.

  Colors bled into one another, the walls stretched and distorted, reality unraveling before his eyes. His spine stiffened, instincts fring to life. The air itself felt wrong—too heavy, too still.

  His battle instincts fred to life as adrenaline rushed through him. "...Who's there?!" he said firmly.

  The shadow swirled, twisting like dark smoke dancing through the air. Slowly, it took shape—a figure both familiar and alien. Its face shifted constantly, like a reflection on rippling water. One moment, it bore the features of someone he knew; the next, it was something unrecognizable, incomprehensible.

  The figure spoke, light and almost pyful—yet distorted, reverberating as if spoken by many mouths at once. "Oh, my dear Drifter... always so tense."

  A chill shot down his spine. The voice, though teasing, carried an undercurrent that made his blood run cold. It was familiar—deeply, terribly wrong.

  He tried to materialize his sword… or even cast a spell, running through the sigil sequence in his mind. Nothing came. His eyes widened then the figure stepped closer, its shadow gliding across the floor like dark mist. Its smile was a mockery of warmth—gentle, yet digging into something primal.

  "Don’t be so startled, my dear. I’m just here to talk."

  Drifter wanted to move, but something held him in pce. The sheer weight of the figure’s presence locked his muscles. He forced his voice out. "What... do you want? Who are you?"

  The figure didn’t answer immediately. It simply stared, its ever-shifting face breaking into a faint, enigmatic smile.

  "Oh, what I want… that doesn’t matter." A zy wave of its hand brushed off Drifter’s question like an afterthought. "But who I am?" Its face paused, eyes glinting sharply, like a freshly honed bde. "Does that really matter to you?"

  Lei’s warning. The Bck Cube. Was this creature connected to it?

  "The Cube, you say?" The figure’s voice slithered through the air, its tone ced with amusement. "An interesting topic… but no, tonight isn’t about that."

  He clenched his fist. This thing… it can read my thoughts. Damn it…

  The figure smiled again, stepping closer, gliding over the cold floor.

  "Tonight is about you… and what lies ahead."

  The words struck like a blow. Drifter's body tensed, his breath hitched, his stomach twisting with unbearable nausea. The images from his nightmares surged back—fmes consuming everything, his friends lost to silence, the academy reduced to ash and ruin. A cold bead of sweat slid down his neck.

  "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" His voice cracked, fear spilling through.

  "Those visions, my dear. You've seen them, haven't you?" The figure tilted its head, its face shifting again. "The academy in fmes… your friends, silenced forever. Tell me..."

  It leaned forward. "How does it feel to witness all that?"

  Drifter gasped, his breath catching. The images returned with startling crity—faces he desperately tried to forget, burned and broken in the ruins. The pain was so vivid, it felt as though the figure had pulled the memories straight from his mind.

  "It's... just a dream!" he shouted.

  The figure let out a low, mocking ugh. "Oh, my dear. Do you truly believe it’s just a dream? What if… it isn’t?"

  Drifter’s chest tightened, his breaths growing shallow. The words pierced through his thoughts like icy needles, unraveling every shred of logic. What if the dreams weren’t just dreams? What if they were a warning?

  He staggered back, face pale, body trembling. "If you're threatening me—" His voice was hoarse, ced with rage—

  The figure cut him off with a dismissive chuckle.

  "Oh no, no. No threats here. Just... a new perspective."

  Its voice was a gentle whisper, yet it filled every corner of Drifter’s mind, echoing relentlessly. "Think carefully. What if you're not strong enough to stop it?"

  The words struck like an icy storm. Doubt cwed at him, his confidence wavering. The nightmare images were too vivid, too real. His heart pounded, struggling against the creeping uncertainty, but the figure’s words had already taken root.

  Then, suddenly, it stepped back. Its form unraveled like smoke scattered by the wind, the suffocating pressure in the room lifting. The air warmed.

  "Just something to consider, my dear... until we meet again."

  The voice faded, dissolving into silence.

  The room returned to normal. The holographic screen of his Lumina Core flickered back to life as if nothing had happened.

  Drifter stared at the empty corner, his breath unsteady. "What... just happened?"

  The room was the same. The Lumina Core’s screen flickered, pying the same frozen frame as before. Yet the weight of the encounter still pressed on his chest.

  He exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. But sleep was impossible.

  With a flicker of energy, his armor materialized around him, his sword firm in his grip. Even as the night dragged on, he didn’t let go.

  [Next Morning - Location: Verm Evocaier Academy – Morning – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

  Drifter walked briskly through the corridors, his gaze vacant and unfocused. The sound of footsteps and the warm morning sunlight barely registered in his mind, as if they existed in a different reality from the one he inhabited.

  As he turned into the main courtyard, he spotted familiar faces: Lorcan Grindelwald, Sloane Gast, and Reine Lindt, who were getting ready to enter the main building. Their presence was like a distant echo, barely penetrating the fog that surrounded his thoughts.

  "Morning, Drifter," said Reine, giving a polite nod that Drifter barely registered.

  Lorcan, fshing his usual grin, waved casually in Drifter's direction. "Yo, old man! What's the rush? Where're you off to?" he teased. "Pulled an all-nighter again? Or..."

  "Got dumped, maybe?" added Sloane, smirking.

  But Drifter barely acknowledged them with a faint nod, his steps never faltering as he continued forward, lost in the byrinth of his own thoughts.

  Lorcan, lowering his voice as Drifter passed, frowned with concern. "What's with him?"

  Sloane, now crossing his arms, exhaled sharply. "No idea. But, seriously... I've never seen him this out of it."

  Reine's gaze lingered on the corridor where Drifter had vanished. "He's... not himself. It's like he's bearing the weight of something too heavy to share."

  Lorcan shout to Drifter. "Hey! Drifter! You know we're here for you, right? Whatever's going on, you don't have to do this alone."

  Drifter paused mid-step, the words penetrating the fog surrounding him. His shoulders sckened slightly, but his expression remained distant, caught between worlds. Turning his head just enough to respond, he muttered, "Thanks."

  Without another word, he continued on his way, the brief connection already fading.

  Sloane ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. "'Thanks'? That's it? He's hiding something. Bet it's about that damn Bck Cube."

  "He never asks for help. Seeing him like that... how are we even supposed to help?" Lorcan said.

  Reine looked down, biting his lip before speaking softly. "If it's about the Bck Cube... what can we even do? Even the Grandmasters don't seem to have any answers."

  The three stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the empty corridor Drifter had disappeared into. The morning air, usually warm and inviting, felt cold and heavy, as though Drifter's lingering shadow had left a weight behind, echoing without sound.

  [Location: Verm Evocaier Academy – Arbiter Hall – Late Morning – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

  Drifter stopped at the doorway to Arbiter Hall, his breath catching in his throat. Near the grand window, Luna Sabriel stood tall, calm as the shadow of twilight, while Alina Walsh's hands moved lightly, tracing the rhythm of their discussion. The sight of Luna triggered something in him—a desperate need for stability in a world that seemed to be unraveling.

  His footsteps echoed as he approached, his eyes locked solely on Luna. Alina noticed him first, her sharp gaze assessing his haggard appearance before giving a slight nod. She walked away with a faint smile, leaving the two alone in the vast hall.

  Luna turned slowly, her piercing blue eyes meeting Drifter's unsettled gaze. "What's wrong?" she asked softly, her voice like a stream attempting to calm a raging fire.

  Drifter hesitated, swallowing hard against the tightness in his throat. "Luna... Sometimes, I'm not even sure if I'm awake." His voice cracked, low and weighted with fear. "I keep... seeing things. Hearing things that aren't there. It's like—"

  The sentence caught in his throat, and he couldn't bring himself to say what he feared most—that he might be losing himself to something beyond his control.

  Luna remained silent, but as she observed him closer. The light in the hall seemed to dim suddenly, as if responding to the darkness within him. Drifter turned abruptly, his gaze darting around the room, wild and searching, as though something invisible lurked in the corners.

  "He's here..." he whispered, so faintly it was almost inaudible.

  But nothing was there. Only the ordinary shadows. Only the faint steps of instructors and students in the background. The moment passed, leaving him disoriented.

  "Go on," urged Luna.

  Drifter drew a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. "Last night, I was watching a broadcast on the Arcane Network. But... everything froze. It was like time stopped. And then, he appeared."

  His eyes locked onto Luna's, filled with raw fear. "He... called out to me," he said quietly. "'My dear Drifter,' he said. But his face..."

  He bit his lip. "It kept changing. I couldn't... define it."

  Luna's expression hardened slightly, her brows furrowing, but she remained silent, allowing him to continue.

  "I asked him about the Bck Cube, but he didn't answer me directly. He just stared."

  His breathing grew uneven, his fists clenching tighter at his sides. "Then he showed me... something. This academy. Ruins. Everything destroyed. All of you were..."

  Luna tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. "Are you sure it was real? Not just a dream?"

  Drifter nodded weakly. "It was too real. I could smell the blood. I could hear the screams. It was real."

  Luna's eyes narrowed. "If he can manipute time and your perception... this isn't just a dream. He might be toying with reality itself, making you doubt everything around you. Don't let him control you," she said, her tone soft but resolute. "That's what he wants. To make you doubt. To make you weak."

  With a heavy breath, Drifter nodded. "Thanks, Luna."

  Drifter gave a faint smile—at least he felt slightly relieved as he talked with her.

  In the distance, he noticed Alina standing by the doorway, observing him. Politely, he said goodbye to Luna and left.

  He returned to the simution room, where he fought Cataclysmaris simutions with Alma, Nadia, and Vaeloria. Once again, they looked at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

  Drifter gave the same answer as before. "Nothing."

  He went back to his quarters, but sleep wouldn’t come. His mind was restless.

  Determined, he decided he would see Friedrich the next day.

  [Location: Verm Evocaier Academy – Friedrich's Office – Afternoon – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

  As Drifter left his quarters, he moved with purpose, heading straight to Friedrich's office with quick strides. He knocked on the door.

  "Come in, Drifter. Is there something important you wish to discuss?" Friedrich asked, seated behind his desk.

  "It's about the Cube. I've been thinking about what Madam Lyriel said about her husband. Do you remember? His research, all those years ago."

  Friedrich nodded. "Yes, I remember. It's been on my mind as well. But why bring it up now?"

  "Have we made any progress? Do we know who's behind these attacks? Or why they're so fixated on the Cube?" Drifter pressed.

  Friedrich sighed, his gaze drifting over the scattered papers on his desk.

  "We've pieced together fragments, but nothing concrete yet. Our investigation spans multiple groups—Eldoria, the Empire, even the Republic. But none of their tech reports, official or from our spies, match what we’re seeing. Even Celestial Forge, our own R&D division, has no record of anything like it."

  "Whoever's behind this... they've already vioted international treaties. Military automatons are banned—if they're exposed, every nation could retaliate, and a full-scale conflict would be inevitable."

  He paused, rubbing his temples. "According to Eldoria’s government, Kalevi—Caelus’s father—vanished from their research division a few years ago. No trail, no clues. Whatever he was working on... disappeared with him."

  Drifter’s expression hardened. "Someone is behind this. Whether it’s an underground faction or something even bigger."

  "You’re not about to bme the Cult of Shadronis again, are you?" Friedrich narrowed his eyes. "Come on, that’s a stretch. No one in their right mind would back them—especially not with tech that could rival ours."

  Drifter leaned forward, his eyes sharp with determination. "What about the academy’s defenses? We can’t just sit back and wait for them to make the next move. They’re already too close. Has the academy ever dealt with anything like this before?"

  Friedrich frowned. "Never. The Order’s influence is too strong. Even the Empire, with all its military power, wouldn’t risk provoking us directly."

  "But things are different now," Drifter insisted. "The Cube makes us a target."

  Friedrich held his gaze, steadying his breath. "We’ve already reinforced security since the Cube arrived. That should be enough."

  Drifter didn’t back down, his voice steady. "I’m sorry, Professor, but that’s not enough. Ever since the Cube arrived, we’ve seen too many strange events—the Grakling attack led by that girl, the mysterious Skyship, the Azistile incident, the Eternal Keeper, and that masked figure with the skeletal visage… It’s too much. Too many factions could be after the Cube."

  Taking a deep breath, he locked eyes with Friedrich. "My suggestion: Activate Condition II."

  Friedrich’s brows shot up, and hesitation flickered across his face. "You know what you’re asking, Drifter. Condition II is no ordinary measure—it’s a full-scale war readiness protocol."

  Drifter didn’t flinch. His silence was more resolute than any argument.

  Friedrich lowered his head in thought. After a moment, he looked back at Drifter, decision settling in his expression. "Alright. I trust you, Drifter."

  Drifter gave a small, deliberate nod. "Thank you, Professor. I have one more request—let me oversee the Cube directly at the research center."

  Friedrich’s features softened slightly, understanding the gravity of the request. Slowly, he nodded. "Very well. I’ll assign extra security. You won’t be alone."

  Drifter stood, offering one final nod before turning to leave. The door closed behind him, and silence filled the office.

  Friedrich remained still, his fingers drummed softly on the desk as thoughts churned in his mind. Slowly, he gathered the scattered papers, a renewed determination in his eyes.

  Activating the Lumina Core on his wrist, he projected an image of Luna.

  "Luna," Friedrich began, his voice steady but ced with concern, "what’s been going on with Drifter tely? Something feels... off."

  Luna’s gaze held his, unwavering. "He came to me yesterday. He said there was a figure… something that appeared to him. It called out to him, as if it already knew him."

  "He said the figure wasn’t of any known species. It was like it came from somewhere entirely... other. It showed him visions—this academy in ruins, engulfed in fmes, everyone gone," Luna added.

  Friedrich’s jaw tightened as the unease solidified into something more tangible, something more dangerous.

  "He believes it’s connected to the Cube, though he’s not certain yet. This isn’t just a nightmare—it feels… too real," Luna continued.

  "I’ve already increased security at the academy. But if this is more than just a vision, we’ll have to keep a closer eye on him. Let me know if anything changes," Friedrich said.

  Luna nodded. "Understood. I’ll watch over him. If anything shifts, you’ll know immediately."

  The projection faded, leaving Friedrich alone once more. His gaze lingered where Luna’s image had been, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him.

  The Cube had brought them to this precipice, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were standing at the edge of something vast—something catastrophic.