Alice woke up feeling groggy. Her sleep had not been very restful, plagued by uneasy thoughts and worse dreams. She rubbed her eyes, arching slightly to work the stiffness out of her back. The bed at the Muramasa house was no worse than the one in her room in the Wolvenheim home, but she had slept uncomfortably, tossing and turning, and this was the inevitable result. Noting sarcastically that this was a fantastic start to the day, she got up and decided to begin her morning routine: she had absolutely no intention of finding out what Ms. Muramasa might do to those who arrived late for her homeroom. Each of the bedrooms in the house had its own attached bathroom, complete with a washer for clothes. She brushed and showered, then put on her uniform, hoping she looked more presentable than she felt. Checking her appearance in the mirror showed that her eyes were slightly red, and her normally flawless ringlets messy. But there was nothing she could do about that. Sighing, she decided to head to the dining room and get breakfast.

It was as she stepped out of the room that she felt the floor shake under her feet.

An earthquake?

No, it stopped too suddenly for that. A moment later, it happened again: her ears picked up a dull thud, and once more, the ground shook. Puzzled and alarmed, she wondered for a second if the house would collapse, before reminding herself that it was more than likely reinforced with Magic. She walked down the corridor, cautiously searching for the source of the tremors. Her path led her to a place she had only learned about last night.

The Dojo.

The door was open, and she stopped there, looking in. Across the wooden floor, on the other side of the hall, was a heavy iron bar, loaded with plates, each of them more than a foot in diameter, and at least an inch thick. Standing in front of the bar, gripping it firmly with both hands, was Sura. As Alice looked on, the Flawed youth adjusted his posture. His knees were bent, his hips back, and his torso straight, almost horizontal. Taking a deep breath, he pushed with his legs, and stood tall, lifting the bar off the ground as he did so. At the top, he paused for a second, before he lowered himself, putting the bar down again. As it landed, the sound of metal on stone reverberated, and the ground shook.

Just how much weight is that?

The Flawed youth continued to repeat the movement, lowering the weight, then standing up again, lifting the bar from the floor. He did this eight more times before he finally released his grip, exhaling a sigh. It was at this point that he looked at Alice, and nodded slightly.

“Morning,” he greeted.

“What are you doing?” she answered, with a question.

“These,” replied Sura, “are called deadlifts. Excellent exercise for full body strength. Also a great way to keep one’s core and back healthy.”

“They’ll break the floor if you keep them up,” said Alice, looking with no small amount of awe at the bar.

“Hey, the equipment wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t meant to be used.”

“And how much weight is that?” she asked, unable to stop herself. The bar and plates seemed to be made of iron, and Alice was certain there was some kind of Magic Cast on them to make them heavier.

In answer, Sura pointed towards the far wall of the Dojo, where a chart was hanging.

“According to that, this should be twenty two tonnes.”

Alice blinked a few times. She was still a little groggy, and thus, she needed to be sure she hadn’t misheard him. Once she was certain of that, and realized what he had said, her face paled, while her eyebrows twitched.

“So you’re just… casually lifting more than Level Three Mages, huh?”

She laughed nervously.

“I’m starting to get my strength back,” he replied, stretching his shoulders. “Been neglecting my training for the past few months, to be honest. But now it’s back to work. I’ve got to get stronger.”

The Wolvenheim maiden’s eyes widened.

It really was amazing. Her annoyance at him for chasing a goal he could not possibly achieve, her irritation at how he refused to be dissuaded from that goal, and even her own stubborn pride, which deep inside, resented him for being what she wasn’t: in that moment, all of that was put aside as she fully acknowledged it. He truly was incredible. Without a single drop of Magic in him, with his own body and will, through sheer effort, he had made himself superhuman. He was living proof of what the human spirit was capable of. Somewhere within, she once more felt a part of her resonate with that. A part that wanted to be like him: to strive, to fight bravely, and never back down. And as she watched him towel himself dry, a chill went down her spine as she realized fully what his decision meant. He wasn’t done. Not even close. Having come this far, he wasn’t satisfied. He would continue to climb higher and higher.

Alice hadn’t been able to rest, sleep haunted by repeated visions of the fight between her brother and Sura. She couldn’t rest easy, knowing that he would continue to go up against Mages, continue to go against all logic. Yet, by the looks of things, Sura himself had had no trouble sleeping. He looked well rested and fresh, and his strength spoke for itself. There was no air of defeat about him. Indeed, even after what had transpired in that fateful encounter, she was surprised to find that she did not see him as a loser.

Hesitating slightly, she spoke her next words.

“Sura… you’ll do it again, won’t you? You’ll fight Alphonse again.”

The Flawed boy grinned.

“One hundred percent.”

She realized that for some reason, she was still calm after hearing that affirmation. She didn’t quite know why that was, but somehow, the idea of him going against the world didn’t bother her so much anymore.

“I see. Well, I can’t stop you. So do your best!”

This time, it was Sura who blinked a few times in surprise.

“Hey, are you okay? I think you might be sick: it almost sounded for a while like you were being reasonable.”

Alice glared at him, on the verge of uttering a furious retort, when she realized he wasn’t being dense. It was hard to see, but there was a tiny hint of a smile on his face, a glint of amusement in his eye.

“Hmph.”

She turned up her nose, looking away, causing him to break out laughing. After a while, she found herself smiling too. A brief moment of silence followed. Sura was already doing pull-ups, and Alice was deciding if she should even bring up what she was about to.

“... Hey. Aren’t you going to ask me about my brother?”

Sura continued doing his pull-ups, not saying a word. Alice waited, uncharacteristically nervous. It wasn’t as if she had done anything wrong: the four members of 3F had barely met. They knew almost nothing about each other. It wasn’t as though she was obligated to tell them anything about her family. About Alphonse. Even so, she wondered if he resented that she hadn’t said anything about it.

For a while, Alice thought he wouldn’t answer, until he dropped from the bar, landing lightly on his feet.

“Nope,” he said shortly. “Far as I’m concerned, your family’s none of my business.”

Alice wasn’t even sure how to reply to that. No one had ever made light of the Wolvenheims before. It was such a remarkably stupid thing to do, she’d never run into anyone foolish enough to do it. She didn’t even know if she should be offended. After all, she’d spend years trying to live up to the Wolvenheim name. And she knew the pains she had put herself through for it.

“Besides,” said Sura, breaking into her thoughts. “I don’t care if he is your brother. I’m still going to beat that pretty face into the ground.”

For a moment, the blonde stared at him, completely dumbstruck. Then, she began to laugh. She laughed so hard, tears rolled down her face.

“Hey! You think I’m joking here?!”

She shook her head.

“Not at all,” she managed to choke out between laughs. It took her a while to get herself under control.

“You’re looking down on me,” said Sura, annoyed.

Once more, she shook her head.

“Nope. Not at all. I don’t think you’ll ever beat my brother, but that wasn’t why I was laughing.”

“Then why-?”

“Hmm, that’s a secret.”

In contrast to her mocking tone, however, the smile on her face was completely genuine.

----------------------------------------

Fiona idly chewed buttered toast, tapping the table with her free hand. It was unlike her to think too much while eating; her firm belief was that the thinking should be saved for after you had eaten, and had a full fuel tank to run your brain with. But this wasn’t just any other day. Her mind kept wandering back to the events of the previous afternoon. The fight in the Primary Building’s dining hall, between that blonde bastard and Sura.

She had been rooting for the Flawed boy. She really had. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done that for anyone other than herself. The world was, in a word, shit. Bad things happened; it was inevitable. Fiona’s way of dealing with it was to minimize the damage. She expected the worst, and thus, she was never disappointed. So it had been for the longest time, ever since she was a child. Coming to Elysium… was optimistic. It was the sort of choice a dreamer would make. Fiona had a dream, but she wouldn’t call herself optimistic. Not by a long shot. The way she saw it, there were two different kinds of pain. The pain of struggling to get what one wanted, and along with it, the possible pain of failure. This could be avoided, but that brought its own kind of pain: the pain of living every day knowing one could have tried, but didn’t. And thus, she had chosen the former: she’d rather die knowing she’d given it her best shot. And to be certain, she never deluded herself. Never thought for a second that Elysium would be a pleasant place. She’d come prepared to be kicked, spat on, treated like trash. All for the sake of her dream.

And of course, on her very first day, those expectations were proven to be spot on. When she had felt the invisible force of the Telekinesis Skill hoist her into the air, she’d felt all fear, disgust, anger. Those were all there. But it didn’t break her, because she’d come prepared for it. For the Mages to treat her like they always had, as less than a human being. What she hadn’t been prepared for was what happened next.

It wasn’t every day that she saw a Mage get knocked out. And as for a Mage getting knocked out by a Flawed, of all people? She had never in her life seen it. Until that day. The indifference that she had cultivated, that she wore as an armour, was broken. Not by the Mages, but the Flawed boy who laid them out on the floor. It was as though every bit of the anger she’d ever felt was focused in those massive fists. That was the first time she saw Sura. Of course, she had seen him before. Earlier that very same morning, in 3F. But that when he beat down three Mages… that was when she really saw him. What had happened next was natural. The moment passed, and Fiona returned to her regular self. It turned out that 3F’s students would be living together. So she got a chance to talk to him. And, to her surprise, he was easy to talk to. They could go back and forth, as easily and naturally as though they had known each other for years.

Sura had been able to break through her shell. Fiona always expected the worst. But when Sura was around, she believed things could be better. That for once, they wouldn’t turn out bad. And so, she had rooted for him. It was unlike her: unlike her to think about winning. Even more unlike her to care that someone else won. And very unlike her to think that any victory was possible against Mages. But somehow, notwithstanding that smug, blonde bastard that everyone treated like hot shit, she had believed Sura could win.

And boy had he fought.

Everything he had done seemed like something out of a dream: matching that damned Mage blow for blow, leaping around like he was walking on air, and even cracking the Enhanced floor of the Primary Building. It was the fight of a lifetime, and being able to do what he had done would already have been a dream come true for any Flawed.

But Sura had wanted victory. And Fiona had wanted him to win.

And so, when that desperate ceiling-diving attack had failed to bring the Mage down, when Sura had been suspended in the air, being struck by Magic Fiona couldn’t see, it had hurt. When he had somehow stood up after that beating, to mouth off because he could no longer fight, it had hurt. And when he finally passed out, and she’d caught him, it had hurt. When she’d had to carry him to the Infirmary, when the Nurse had told her to leave so that she could treat him, it had hurt.

She didn’t even know why it hurt so. But it did. He had fought so hard, and she knew he must have worked hard to be able to do so. The countless hours he must have sweat and bled and suffered, to get to the point where he was able to fight like that. To see him defeated… hurt.

Am I supposed to cheer him up?

She swallowed the toast she had been chewing on for what felt like an eternity.

How do I even do that?

As easy as it was to trade one-liners and quips with him, she had no idea how to even begin to say something that important. How to initiate a serious conversation with him. And even if she did somehow take that first step, what was she supposed to say?

You did well? Cheer up? Like fucking hell he wants to hear that. Nobody wants a fucking consolation prize. Thanks for playing, better luck next time. Yeah, right.

It would be like rubbing salt on his wounds.

But… just leaving him alone couldn’t be right either.

Sura hadn’t left them alone when they were in trouble. He had stood up for them. Fought for them. She wouldn’t just leave him to deal with things alone when he was the one who had it hard.

Across the table from her, Asuka glanced at her dejectedly. It had been like this since they had come back to the dorm last night. Nobody had said a word. Nobody wanted to admit what had happened, bring it up. Just as she was wondering if she should speak up, a pair of figures walked into the dining room.

“Yo. What’s with the long face? We out of eggs or something?”

Fiona’s eyes lit up. She turned around. Sura was already in his uniform, blazer missing as usual. And of course, he’d left the top buttons undone and ditched the tie. He looked the opposite of defeated. Immediately, Fiona felt a lot better. She should have realized: he wasn’t so fragile. Even so, she felt it would be wrong if she didn’t ask at least once.

“You doing okay?”

“Never better. Nothing like an ass-kicking to wake you up.”

Wow, he’s not afraid to call a spade a spade, is he?

“You don’t seem too put out about it.”

“I’m not.”

That was good enough for her. She smiled slightly.

“All right, that’s enough chit-chat,” said Alice. “How about we get down to business?”

“And there go the good feelings,” deadpanned Fiona and Sura at the same time.

Alice glared at them.

“In case you two don’t remember, we still have to choose our Specializations and hand in those forms. So I highly suggest you both go through that file and make your choices.”

“Actually, I already know what I’m going for,” said Fiona.

Alice stumbled slightly in her zest.

“Oh.”

Recovering quickly though, she looked at Asuka.

“And what about you?”

The very shy and quiet girl answered.

“There are a few different subjects I have in mind, and I want to give them all a try before I choose.”

“O-oh,” said Alice. It seemed her classmates had given this more thought than she had expected.

“But that’s enough about us, princess,” said Fiona. “What about you?”

“I’ve made my choice too.”

That left only one of them. Sura looked up from devouring boiled chicken, to see the three girls (even Asuka) looking at him curiously.

“Well? What about you then?” asked Fiona.

“I’m guessing he hasn’t even read the file yet”, said Alice.

“I have, actually,” said Sura. “And after considerable thought, I made a decision. I chose the class where I could make the best use of my time, and add some much needed enrichment to my school life.”

“Wow, you whipped out the long words for that one,” said Fiona drily.

“Hey, that’s hurtful,” replied the delinquent without missing a beat. “But regardless of what the naysayers think, I’ve made my choice.”

“Huh. Well that’s that then. Guess we’ll all be attending Specializations today.”

----------------------------------------

Fiona looked up from the paper in her hand. A sign above the door in front of her told her that she was in the right place. As if to confirm this, the door itself slid open upwards as she approached.

Well, here we go.

She walked into the room, not paying any mind to the fact that her arrival had immediately caused every pair of eyes present to lock on to her. Ignoring their gazes, she instead took in the sight of the room itself. It was slightly larger than the average lecture hall. Instead of their amphitheater-like design, this place was built for the most part on a single level. The desks were replaced by longer, sturdier tables of many different kinds. Each of these had equipment attached to it: mechanical saws, automated hammers, sinks and water tubes. In addition, a plethora of tools lay next to each of these setups, most likely intended for each student. The desks only occupied a part of the room; the rest was taken up by a wide variety of heavy machinery: engines, anvils, pneumatic presses and more. There were even metallurgical furnaces, each of them connected to a tunnel laced with Crystals, evidently for controlling and safely dispersing heat.

It was like stepping into a dream. Everything Fiona had ever wanted, all in one place. She wanted to run around, examine every last piece of equipment. She wanted to use them. She wanted to create.

“Ahem.”

She was pulled out of her rapture by an annoyed and raspy voice. Turning to the blackboard, she saw a short, slightly stocky man who was probably in his forties. His combed back hair and trimmed moustache had flecks of grey in them. Like everyone else in the room, he wore a protective apron over his clothes. His skin was naturally light, but darkened, most likely from constant heat.

“You seem to be in the wrong place,” he said, his eyebrows narrowed. Unlike most of the teachers at Elysium, he didn’t seem to be feigning indifference: he wasn’t even trying to hide his distaste.

Fiona, who had seen it all a thousand times before, merely held up the paper in her hand.

“Nope. Magic Augmented Engineering is what I signed up for. This is definitely the right place.”

The man’s eyes narrowed even further.

“It seems I wasn’t clear enough in my meaning. You are in the wrong place, regardless of what your name on some paper might say. This is Magical Engineering. Magical. Must I be more blunt? You don’t belong here.”

The dark-haired girl took in these words through one ear, and let them out the other. They were nothing new to her. Instead, her eyes travelled to the blackboard, where a detailed schematic was drawn. In addition, specifications were written down. Building the device they described seemed to be the assignment for the day.

He’s not going to let me attend this class unless I show him what I’ve got.

She wanted to avoid this, but there seemed to be no choice, no way to attend unless she made an undeniable impression.

“That design’s a little faulty,” she said, gesturing to the blackboard. “Given what you’re trying to build, that’s a pretty subpar way of going about things.”

The man’s eyes bulged. He was visibly shaking with outrage and indignation.

“Oh?” He addressed the class, pointing at Fiona. “It seems the Flawed has an opinion on Magic. How interesting, wouldn’t you all agree?”

A burst of laughter followed his words. Fiona grinned. He was playing right into her hands.

“All right then. How about this: let me build my own version of that device. Give me the same amount of time you’re giving everyone else. When the time’s up, we’ll test both. If mine performs worse, I’ll leave. Won’t attend this class. No questions asked. But if mine does better, I get to stay. How does that sound?”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The class had gone silent.

For a student, much less a Flawed, to lay down a challenge to a teacher… it was unheard of. The sheer audacity of even making such a challenge had shocked everyone, stolen their speech.

“You’ve got quite some nerve for a filthy lowborn piece of trash such as yourself,” said the teacher.

“Take it or leave it,” said Fiona. “But it makes me wonder: what kind of engineer isn’t willing to test their creations? How do you know if they’re good or bad? How do you have any kind of pride without knowing?”

“!”

“Ah, also, if we’re doing this, we’ll do this fair and square, huh? I mean, you could all zap me with your Magic and what not. But if that happens, I’ll just assume you lot were afraid of losing. So: what’s it going to be?”

The teacher bared his teeth, anger plastered all over his smile as his eyes glinted dangerously.

“You talk a big game. All you Flawed, talking words you cannot live up to. Fine, I’ll accept your challenge. On one condition: if your build cannot out-perform ours, you will leave Elysium. Immediately.”

A dangerous light appeared in Fiona’s eyes as she grinned, answering without a moment’s hesitation.

“You’re on.”

By this time, the other students were leaning back. They had never seen their teacher with that light in his eye, and they had certainly never expected to see the same from a Flawed girl. They recognized madness when they saw it, and they wanted no part of it.

“Pick a workbench and get started. Time limit is one hour. Is that enough for you?” the teacher asked.

Fiona was already walking towards a table.

“Plenty,” she answered.

“Use whatever tools you need.” He looked at the rest of the students. “If any of you hinder her in any way, I’ll break you into so many pieces, they’ll need a vacuum cleaner to pick them all up.”

Fiona wasn’t listening anymore. Grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil, she quickly sketched out an alternate schematic.

A large part of Magic Augmented Engineering revolved around the use of naturally occurring Elemental Crystals. These were composed of certain kinds of atoms, unique in nature, which contained vast quantities of inherent Magic Energy. This Energy was in a different form from that running through the special cells in a Mage’s body, but it could still be sensed by anyone with an affinity for Magic. In addition, the Magic stored in the Crystals could be manipulated indirectly. That meant that while Mages couldn’t shape it and direct it at will with their minds, as they could with the Magic in their own bodies, they could still do so, by manipulating the structure of the Crystals themselves. The molecules of the Crystals were arranged to form natural pathways within each Crystal. The Energy circulated along these pathways, and a Crystal, in its natural state, was neutral, though various external influences could cause them to respond.

Magic Engineering required the reshaping of these natural pathways into circuits. The shape of the circuit determined how the Energy would flow, and what the Crystal would do. It was the programming. Once programmed, a Crystal could be used either by itself, as in the case of weapons like those Alice carried with her, or it could be used to power and drive a machine. Shaping these circuits was work that took place on a micro-level: precision on the order of millimeters was needed. Most Mages performed it with the aid of their Perception: they sensed the Magic pathways within the Crystal, then used their Telekinesis Skill to rearrange sections as needed.

Fiona, of course, could not sense Magic directly. Needless to say, she couldn’t use Telekinesis either.

All around, the students watching her commented on that very fact.

“How’s she even going to shape that Crystal?”

“Can she even see the circuitry?”

“Maybe it’ll blow up in her face.”

The truth was, Magic Engineering was more than just Magic.

While the circuits were difficult to see, with the right microscopes, they were visible. While a natural ability to sense the amount of Energy was helpful, there were already volumes of recorded information on the potency of various Crystals, and how the width of a circuit affected the amount of Energy flowing through it at any time, and even tools to measure that quantity in real time. While Telekinesis allowed one to work with precision, it was entirely possible that someone with a good eye, steady hands, and the patience to put in countless hours of work, could do the same without it.

While being able to use Magic from childhood gave one a good sense for what certain circuit arrangements might do, it was possible for one to know this even without that experience. Through study of the properties of Magic, the way it functioned, the laws of physics, and the nature of matter, one could gain the knowledge needed to build circuits without being able to sense Magic at all. Indeed, this precise knowledge was the reason behind the growth of technology driven by Magic.

Humanity had not relied only on the talent of Mages.

It had developed a system, a hard-won framework of knowledge and methods, to compensate for their own imperfect abilities.

The objective was to transform the Crystal into a variable-power cell. It would need to be compatible with a wide range of everyday appliances, with the power output manually changeable by the user. The task, then, was to build circuitry that would allow the safe and stable flow of power with minimal unwanted dispersion, while also creating a method to regulate that flow.

Fiona, who was already done with her schematic for the circuitry, had put the Lightning Crystal under the scope. Using a cutter, she had sliced through the external cortex, and was now using delicate tools to rearrange the inner pathways, which were not rigid, but had limited mobility, almost like a puzzle. Her hands moved with practiced ease.

Forty minutes later, she straightened up, putting away her tools.

“I’m done.”

The teacher, who had also finished his own version of the variable power cell, looked up.

“Then it’s time to test.”

The students gathered around as the man walked over to the metallurgical furnace. He opened a panel at its base. This was where the power source for the forge was to be inserted. Unlike a conventional forge, this did not derive heat from fossil fuels. Instead, a Crystal was inserted, and its Magic Energy was converted to the required form by the furnace’s own mechanism.

Building a power cell that could run appliances with a lower power requirement fairly stably was something most Engineering students could do.

This was the real test of skill.

Building a power cell that could run an entire furnace without interruptions, without the Crystal itself overheating, cracking or otherwise failing.

The teacher went first, putting his Crystal into the core slot. His power cell was gold in colour, which was normal for a Lightning Crystal. While a Fire Crystal was the more natural choice for a furnace, this was to be an all-purpose cell, and electricity was the energy of choice for most appliances.

Sure enough, the furnace came to life, glowing with heat.

He looked at Fiona smugly.

“1600 degrees Celsius. Think you can manage half that?”

The students gasped in admiration and amazement. To be able to build a cell that powerful in less than an hour showed just how skilled their teacher was.

The Mage turned off the Furnace, its mechanisms radically reducing its internal temperature to allow him to remove the Cell.

“Your turn,” he said.

Fiona stepped forward.

The other students were whispering skeptically.

In contrast to the deep gold colour of the teacher’s Crystal, hers was a brilliant, near-white blue.

“Is that even a Lightning Crystal anymore? It looks more like Water…”

“She must have messed up somewhere along the way…”

None of them noticed that the teacher’s eyes had widened in recognition when he saw the colour of Fiona’s power cell. The dark-haired girl inserted it in the core slot, closed the panel, then backed away.

It was too late to not go through with it now, so the Mage pressed the button to activate the Forge.

Within seconds, it glowed red, radiating heat.

The students standing closest to it felt beads of sweat roll down their face, and quite possibly, it had nothing to do with that heat itself.

“1600 degrees Celsius,” someone read off the furnace’s display panel. “Cell capacity usage… 70 percent.”

The teacher was staring at Fiona as though he had seen a ghost.

“How… how did you do that… you built that… a damned Faust Cell.’

While his words meant nothing to most of the students, a few of them now stared at Fiona, faces pale. Furious whispers were heard.

“Hey, what’s a Faust Cell?”

“Dunno, never heard of it…”

“A Faust Cell is a special kind of power cell invented one thousand years ago. Almost no one makes it these days…”

The speaker, a shaggy-haired boy, was muttering quickly, looking at Fiona with fear in his eyes.

“How come no one makes it anymore?” his neighbour asked.

The boy gulped.

“A Faust Cell is a near-perfect Lightning Crystal. It’s a Lightning Crystal that can make use of nearly all its inherent Magic Energy, without any unwanted loss of power or damage to the Crystal itself. A Faust Cell can perform approximately twenty percent better than generic power cells on the market.”

“Then how come no one makes it anymore?” the neighbour asked, with a shade more insistence.

The boy’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Because a single error in the process turns the Crystal into a deathtrap. All of the stored Energy is released at once.”

He gulped.

“There wouldn’t even be ashes left of your bones. Doctor Faust… the one who invented it… they used to say he made a deal with an Old One. This is… something that shouldn’t exist. People have died trying to make this in the past...”

Fiona scoffed.

“You all don’t get it, do you?”

There was a gleam in her eyes as she approached the furnace, turned it off, and removed the Faust Cell from it. She held it up, and everyone, teacher included, took several steps backwards.

“Magic Engineering ain’t magecraft. It’s science.”

As if to drive her point home, she let the Faust Cell fall from her hand.

Everyone dove for cover, throwing up their strongest Barriers.

A moment later, when nothing happened, they raised their heads.

“Didn’t ya all know? A proper Faust Cell’s stable. It doesn’t blow up from getting thrown around a bit.”

By now, the teacher was staring at Fiona in awe. First, she wagered her place at Elysium. Then, she dropped a Faust Cell, wagering her life.

Just how much faith does she have in her science? Then again, considering her abilities…

Fiona was already walking out of the lab.

“I’ll be here again tomorrow, same time. There’s a lot I plan to learn. And you’re going to teach me.”

----------------------------------------

“Magical Artifacts. Throughout the ages, they have been some of the most prized possessions of Mages. And why not? There is good reason to value them so highly.”

The speaker stopped, surveying his class. He was quite tall, with silver hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. His outfit consisted of a pair of beige trousers and a matching waistcoat, along with a white long-sleeved shirt. In front of one eye, a monocle glinted in the candle light.

Like most of the rooms in the Primary Building, this one too was altered with Magic so that despite being made of metal and glass, it resembled grainy stone. There were no windows to let sunlight in; the only light in the room was from torches that hung on the walls. The place resembled an underground study, often used by Mages studying Artifacts in earlier ages.

The teacher's gaze wandered over his students one by one, until they landed on one with bright gold hair and eyes. The telltale signs of a certain famous family line. One he would ordinarily have been honoured to be an instructor to. Unfortunately, the one in front of him was not the sibling he wanted in his class. He had heard about her, of course. It was quite the scandalous rumour eighteen years ago. A child from one of the Noble families being born Flawed. But the disgrace of that was washed out to a large extent by the younger child, who some claimed was a prodigy. Last year, there had been rumours of an incident surrounding the elder sister: something about her trying to hide her true nature, and failing, being discovered.

That same girl was now in front of him, here to attend his class.

“There are those who believe that Artifacts can be used to compensate for one’s own innate lack of proficiency and power. Nothing could be further from the truth. An Artifact is only as good as the one using it.”

Some murmuring followed his words. The fact that he had been referencing Alice hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Ms. Wolvenheim. If I were to give a Legendary Artifact to a Mage who was only at Level Two, what level of Magic would they be able to Cast?”

“It depends. The Artifact could be one that provides either the Power and Energy for Casting, or one which provides the structure of a Skill. In both cases, the Mage must provide that which is absent: either the power, or the understanding.”

The silver haired Mage’s face remained impassive as he asked his next question.

“Then tell me this. What could one such as yourself, who possesses neither, do with an Artifact?”

Alice’s jaw tightened, but this was the only sign of emotion she gave. Once upon a time, being asked a question like this in front of an entire class would have been humiliating, leaving her silent, unable to say a word. But recent times had shown her those made of sterner stuff.

“I may not possess Magic, but I am not without understanding,” she answered simply.

“Aren’t you? How could one who has never even felt Magic understand how to direct it? How could you draw upon the power of an Artifact, and control it, without being able to sense it?”

It was a question Alice herself had asked, once upon a time. However…

“Artifacts that provide Magic power do not require their user to consciously direct that power. All they require is a concrete image of what the user wishes to achieve with it. If the user’s visualization is firm, the Magic will achieve the intended effect.”

The teacher’s gaze darkened. It was clear he hadn’t expected her to be aware of that fact. The rumours he had heard said that she was good at using Crystals and low-level Artifacts, which responded to physical stimuli by releasing pre-shaped Magic. It seemed that even though she didn’t possess the power, she knew about it.

He would tolerate her presence… for now.

----------------------------------------

Asuka looked up from taking notes. Much to her surprise, she hadn’t run into any trouble at all. While it was normal for students to hold back from their targeting of 3F in front of the teachers, she didn’t think that was the case here. No, most of the people in the room seemed… completely uninterested. Not indifferent. Uninterested. They were all walking around with massive tomes, many of those not part of the main course at all, in other words, supplementary material. They listened attentively to the lecture, answered questions if asked, and took notes throughout.

So this is the History Class.

Asuka knew her own strengths well, as well as her limitations. What she was good at was consistent, diligent work. As for her goal, she needed to graduate with high grades. The Mandatory Subjects already covered the core theoretical knowledge she’d need. So for her Specialization, she needed to choose something that was not only relevant, but also something she could excel at. After all, high school results were one of the things heavily considered in the field she was aiming for. Of course, there was an examination too: a highly competitive one that people from all over the Kingdom took part in. She’d need to ace that to even stand a chance.

But a degree from Elysium, and high grades to back it up, would go a long way towards increasing her chances.

And besides all that, she did find this class calming. People weren’t running around, flashing their Magic, which was scary, or glaring at her with malice, which was even worse. History was also fascinating to study. Asuka was a good reader, able to absorb most texts in the first reading itself, and she had good memory too. Thus, she was able to focus on simply taking in what the text was saying rather than memorizing it. It was interesting to learn about events that had taken place hundreds and even thousands of years ago. Events that had shaped the world as it was today.

Someday in the future, will we be in History books too?

She didn’t know the answer to that.

Certainly, there were many things about 3F that were special.

While Asuka was quiet, very rarely talking about herself, she was a good listener, and both Alice and Fiona tended to talk to her, for that very reason. She knew, for instance, that Alice intended to further her study of Artifacts. She also knew that Fiona dreamed of building her own Magic augmented machines. And seeing the two girls, the fire in their eyes, made her think that maybe they could do it. They were… special. Brave. Throughout history, the ones who did incredible things were those who didn’t listen to “common sense”. Those who didn’t let the world tell them what was and what wasn’t possible. And if that was the case, then those two fiery spirits could very well one day change the course of history, make their own place in the books.

And then, there was Sura.

He was, at first, intimidating. But from the moment he had stepped in to defend the three of them against those Mages, on their very first day, she knew. Asuka had seen plenty of cruel people in her life. People who enjoyed inflicting pain for the sake of inflicting pain. People who enjoyed humiliating others and imposing their own will on them. She had known what it was like to live in fear of such people. And Sura wasn’t one of them. He was the opposite. She didn’t fully understand him yet, but for some reason, she felt safer when he was around. One day, long after they were all dead and gone? What would the History books say about him? That at Elysium, there was a Flawed boy, who dared to take on Mages with nothing but his bare hands? Would they call him a rebel? A fool? A violent delinquent?

She didn’t know.

But none of those words fully captured who he was.

That was the gulf of time.

One could read records of the past, and know the events that transpired. But it wasn’t the same as living them. What she knew, from being in 3F, here and now, was something only the four of them would know.

The class came to an end without any untoward incidents happening. As Asuka was leaving, she heard a voice call out to her.

“Ms. Suzuki, a moment if you please.”

She made her way over to the History teacher, an elderly, bespectacled man with sparse grey hair. He had a slight hunch, most likely from age, and carried a walking stick. Despite this, he was quite energetic and alert.

“Yes, Mr. Maynard?”

He adjusted his glasses slightly as he looked her over. She wondered if this was the moment where her status as a Flawed would be brought up. To her surprise, however, nothing of the sort happened.

“You’re one of Mizuki’s students, aren’t you?”

“A-ah yes. Ms. Muramasa is our homeroom teacher,” she confirmed.

“Yes, yes. Good woman. I’ve been recommending she be given a homeroom class for years now. Glad the Board finally listened.”

That took Asuka aback.

Mr. Maynard hadn’t slighted 3F for being Flawed. On the other hand, he sounded genuinely happy for Ms. Muramasa having a homeroom class of her own.

“Well, it was good seeing you here. Few enough take an interest in History these days. Doomed to repeat it, as they say. I do hope to see you here again.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”

She bowed slightly before leaving, and he inclined his head in return, once more surprising her.

----------------------------------------

Sura stood in front of the large oak doors.

He stretched his neck to both sides, and rolled his shoulders, grinning.

“Here we go.”

Without any further ado, he entered his Specialization Class.