“Hey, Zero.”

The night was late. Prota was fast asleep, exhausted from the day’s events, but John was far more active at night. Perhaps his habits from his days in reality carried over, or maybe it was just a dislike of sunlight, but his brain was always worked best at night.

“Why did she react like that?”

“Like that?”

John’s soul didn’t come out, but his voice was audible.

“When people feel helpless, they recover, or they don’t. Right?”

“Your point?”

“I thought Prota would push herself. I thought she’d get stronger. But she didn’t. She just… fell over and died, basically. Why? She’s a [Character], Zero. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?”

Zero sighed. “John. You know, it’s only been a bit more than a year since you first met Prota. Something like this isn’t a realization of weakness; it was a relapse.”

“A relapse?”

“Prota was helpless for most of her life. What did you expect? She’s still a child, John, no matter how mature she might have been forced to be. It’s easy for her to get discouraged, to give up.”

“...that doesn’t counter my point. That’s the behaviour of a ‘real person.’ A [Character] like that isn’t supposed to give up so easily.”

“Just because characters are expected to act a certain way doesn’t mean they will.”

John fell back on his bed and closed his eyes. It was better to just avoid things like this altogether.

~~~

The scene felt like the setup for some kind of joke. The protagonist, a Mystic, a manaless man and a small girl stood in the centre of a clearing in the forest. Unfortunately, there was no punchline.

“So you’re gonna train her how?”

“The same way I trained our little boy over here,” Kit grinned. “However, it’s not like we can just start right away.”

Prota froze up as Kit walked towards her. No matter how much her brain told her that this woman wasn’t going to hurt her, the irrational fears left in her body remained.

“I’m just gonna ask you a few questions, ok?”

Prota couldn’t respond.

“...is she mute or something?” Kit frowned, turning to John.

“I’ll- I’ll answer for her. She’s, um, a little shy.”

Kit raised an eyebrow at that but left it alone.

“Ok then, question one! You know soul siphoning, don’t you?”

“...!”

Prota’s eyes shot wide open as she instinctively jumped back, hiding behind John.

“Soul siphoning? Never heard of it,” John shrugged.

“Then I can’t teach her,” Kit sighed. “Oh, well. Such a shame.”

The sarcasm was obvious. John considered playing along for about two seconds before deciding to take the easier route. Without hesitation, he pulled out his revolver and pulled the hammer down with an audible click.

“So what. You baited us out? I’m not gonna lie, you got me good. One to you, I guess.”

“So she does know soul siphoning,” Kit said. “Please, I noticed it the moment she used the ability during her fight with that elf. Although, I’m rather curious. I can’t sense any demonic energy from her, and I can’t sense any energy at all from you.”

“Maybe because she’s not a demon? Hold on, demonic energy? Why would she have demonic-”

Kit frowned. “She’s really human?”

John hesitated. Was this some kind of bait? In all honesty, he knew absolutely nothing about soul siphon. Prota had told him everything Jinae knew about it, but that wasn’t enough. Was it a type of magic? A skill? An attribute? And what was this about her being a demon? Prota had been called a demon before, but those had been very different circumstances. Kit was genuinely classifying her as a demon based on her ability.

“...yeah, she’s human. What else would she be?”

“Ooh, how interesting.”

Kit stared at Prota as if she’d discovered a rare specimen.

“Hey. What is Soul Siphon, exactly?”

“...huh? You don’t know?”

Kit threw her head back and laughed.

“That’s hilarious! You’re standing next to a girl who could level the entire continent, and you don’t even know it!”

“Level… the continent?” John frowned.

“Do you even know what your sister’s ability does?”

“Um. It, ah… From what I know, it can absorb the mana of other people. Even souls, from what I’ve heard, although I’m not too sure how that one works. From there, she can copy the magic related to the mana she stole, although it’s only at a primitive level.”

“Primitive? You mean she can’t copy someone’s full abilities? But- that’s not…”

Kit frowned.

“Just what are you?”

She stared at Prota like the girl was some kind of creature, which only caused Prota to shrink down even further. John could feel her trembling. This was probably bringing up bad memories.

“Hey, you’re talking with me, not her. What did you mean about levelling the country?”

“You know about dragons, right?”

“...sort of.” It was probably better to not look like a total fool at this point.

“The reason dragons are so powerful is because of certain abilities unique to their nature: Draconic Speech, which has the ability to command living beings, and Soul Siphon. The ability to take the mana of others and make it entirely their own.”

“...entirely?”

“That’s right. They master someone else’s magic as soon as they take it. Honestly, I always thought that was stupid idea. Why would they need magic? They can just take someone else’s soul. With how large a dragon’s mana reserve is, they can store infinite amounts of mana. They don’t need to eat. They feast on the souls and mana of living beings when they need it.”

Kit shrugged. “Mystics and dragons have a bit of a strained relationship, you see, since Mystics are supposed to be gods of sorts. They don’t like it when there are beings stronger than them.”

“...you, a god? You don’t act like one,” John pointed out.

“That’s neither here nor there,” Kit said. “Don’t tell me what to do. Anyways, yeah, Soul Siphon.”

John nodded, absorbing the new information. If that was right, then Prota was… was she a dragon or something?

“Can baby dragons use soul siphon perfectly, immediately?”

“Well, duh. Otherwise, other races would kill dragons before they grow,” Kit said. “There’s not that many of them. They’re near immortal, and they don’t procreate all that often.”

“...wait a minute. You said they just absorb souls. If you and dragons are clashing with each other, then why aren’t you Mystics all dead?”

“Huh?” Kit frowned. “Oh, you didn’t know?”

“Soul Siphon can be blocked.”

“Ah, of course. There had to be a catch.”

“Well, obviously. Nature wouldn’t allow such a thing to exist. It just requires the right mental fortitude. And, of course, you have to be aware that it’s happening. If an ability like that had no counter, everyone would be dead by now. The same goes for Draconic Speech, too. You just need to resist it. That is, if you can.”

John looked at Prota, who was still hiding behind his legs.

“So why did you think Prota was a demon instead of a dragon?”

Kit sighed. “You don’t know anything. Seriously, how have you survived this long?”

“Just get on with it.”

“There were rumours that the demons had figured out how to replicate Soul Siphon. There aren’t any details, since it’s not like anyone can confirm any of this, but unless your sister is a polymorphed dragon in disguise, she has to be the result of something demonic. At least, that’s what I thought. But there isn’t a hint of demonic energy coming out oof her.”

“...what if she’s a dragon?”

Kit burst out laughing. “Please. I would’ve noticed.”

She calmed down and pointed at Prota. “Well, that’s why I thought she was a demon. I thought those weaklings finally figured out how to replicate it, but… I guess not?”

John nodded. “Guess not.”

Kit leapt forwards and grabbed John’s hands with sparkling eyes.

“Well, that’s just going to make it more interesting to work with her.”

“Wha- huh?”

“Think! I can work with the magic of dragons! Something no Mystic has ever been able to do! Think of the possibilities, the strategies, the…”

“You’re a massive nerd, aren’t you?”

“No,” Kit winked. “Just a little fox.”

“Just a little fox, my ass,” Fate mumbled.

“...so you have no issues with Prota?”

“Of course not! Besides, just look at how cute she is. Ooh, her cheeks are so chubby…”

Prota felt a shiver run down her spine. Somehow, this side of Kit felt infinitely more dangerous than anything she’d faced before.

“Uh… yeah, maybe not,” John said awkwardly, looking at Prota.

“Well, in order to start, I’m gonna need to know more about her. What kinds of magic can she use? How long has she been using it? Stuff like that.”

John nodded and started explaining. He left out the details about resets and such and only vaguely explained her capabilities with her various spells.

“So she can only use the base element… and you say that the more proficient she becomes with magic, the more she’ll be able to copy other’s spells?”

John nodded. “Yeah.”

“Hm… interesting, very interesting!”

Kit snapped her fingers, and a fireball appeared in her hand. She turned to Prota with a malicious smile on her face.

“You’d better steel yourself, 'cause what’s coming next won’t be easy.”

~~~

Doctor picked up a scalpel and observed it with interest.

“Did you know? The soul is something we can extract.”

He slowly pushed the knife against her chest, the knife slowly digging into her flesh. He twisted a bit, and the woman screamed.

“It’s hard to get to, and it’s an extremely painful process.”

With a pair of tweezers, he poked here and there, and the woman’s cries grew stronger.

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“But…”

Doctor pulled his scalpel out and licked the blood on the blade.

“Isn’t that what makes it fun? Don’t you agree, my little toy?”

An hour continued where he continued to cut and pry at the flesh, despite the woman’s continuous pleas for death. She was no longer at the point where she wished to live. Death would’ve been a far greater blessing. Machines were hooked up to her one by one as the process continued, keeping her alive but only prolonging the pain. Every time she thought it was over, something new would come.

Some kind of needle in her eyes. The twisting of veins, fire to sear her muscles, acid to burn away flesh, then a machine plugged in to fix her… a never ending cycle of hell.

After an hour, the screams fell silent. The woman wasn’t dead. Had she been conscious, she would’ve wished she was. Her heart was still beating. The skin that had been initially cut was sown back up so well that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that it had been cut in the first place.

Doctor held a small blue marble in his hands, similar to the ones in the box.

“Ah, the soul… and the art that comes before it.”

He tossed it into the box and undid the restraints on the woman. Tentacles slithered out of his lab coat to pick her up, then carried her over to another room. In the darkness, he tied her to the ceiling by the feet, head hanging close to the ground.

As he left the room, the lights flickered momentarily, revealing dozens of bodies hanging just like hers.

“When shall I do the next one…?”

~~~

For two weeks, Prota did nothing but train in magic. It was to the point where Fate was concerned about her health, but John assured her that there was no issue.

“She’s been through worse.”

“Worse? Really?”

“Yeah, in a way. She can handle this, no problem.”

Kit was an excellent teacher, to be sure, but Prota was growing at a rate much faster than anyone else would’ve. It wasn’t because she was a genius or anything; in fact, she was slightly slower than average when it came to understanding things, which surprised John. She’d picked up the basic education he’d given her quite well.

What she did have was [Soul Siphon] and [Mana Recovery].

The technique Kit was trying to teach Prota was how to make spells more efficient.

“See, mana is the energy that allows us to redefine the world. However, how much energy you put into doing that can be changed. Just like anything, a process can be made more efficient.”

Kit lit two fires in her hands, and both looked exactly the same.

“The fire on the right was made with three times the mana of the one made on the left. And yet they have the same output.”

In short, the lessons were all about learning how to use mana in the most efficient method possible. It was a technique reserved for the Mystics, but Kit was sharing it freely for some reason. Of course, she didn’t explain how it worked, so it wasn’t like John could teach it to anyone else, but still.

Regardless of how it worked, it wasn’t something that was easy to understand. It was a skill that required practice and concentration, and that meant casting the same spells over and over again. Just like refining metal, mana, too, needed to be refined into an ideal form.

This was where Prota shone. With [Soul Siphon], Prota could continue to replenish her mana, while [Mana Recovery] allowed her to cast spells without growing tired. On top of this, her mental strength was absurdly strong as a side effect of all the [Resets] she’d been through, and with a combination of all three of these things, she was practically a machine.

It wasn’t that Prota was a natural talent in magic. She just worked hard. And she could work at practically quadruple the efficiency of anyone else.

“Wow… to think I’d see another monster,” Kit sighed as she rested her cheek in her hands.

Only two weeks later, Prota could cast ten fireballs at once.

The concentration of mana that it took to cast one fireball was now being used for two or three. With this, Prota could cast many more spells at a time than she could before, which was a massive benefit. Of course, the newly upgraded C class core was a massive bonus.

It was clear. Prota was improving.

“Good job, kiddo,” Kit said after watching the display of power. “You’ve mastered the basics.”

“B-basics?” Prota panted, exhausted from casting the spell.

“Well, duh. You’re just casting level one spells right now. You thought you were done?”

Prota’s heart started beating faster. There was more than this? She looked at her hands with shining eyes. Just this felt like a massive leap forward, a boost of strength she never could’ve imagined, but… this was just the start?

“I see you’re ready for more,” Kit grinned. “Then come on! Let’s keep going.”

Prota nodded energetically, then picked up her staff once more.

~~~

“Lesson two! Magic stems from someone’s imagination. There are tons of spells you can learn, but in order to truly master magic, you have to come up with magic of your own.”

Kit opened her hand to reveal a rose made of flames, then blew on it. As she did so, the petals shot out in every direction, beautiful petals of flames, then exploded as they hit the ground.

“Remember. Magic is just us harnessing the power to reshape the world. So while there are lots of good spells you can learn… why copy when you can create? This is the secret to chantless casting. This is the secret to true magic.”

Prota’s eyes opened wide. That flower. It was just like the one she’d made in the cave, when she’d fought against the fake John.

She remembered the message she’d seen back then.

Ten minutes, then thirty minutes, then an hour passed. No progress was being made. John was falling asleep while Kit was off tutoring Fate to the side. Prota was paying attention to none of that.

Her eyes squeezed as she concentrated, picturing a flower in her hand. A flower with hundreds of petals, all intertwined, condensed and packed. Take an icicle, shape it, mould it until the petals all fold onto each other, one by one…

“...hey. Are you sure she’s not a demon?” Kit said awkwardly as she poked John awake.

John rubbed his eyes, but the sight that greeted them made him think he was still dreaming.

Frost was gathering around Prota, making her white hair even whiter, and the snow was swirling into the center of her hands, slowly but surely forming something that was beginning to resemble a flower.

“I… that’s incredibly advanced magic. Have you been lying this whole time?”

“N-no, I swear, I’m just as surprised as you are…”

“Is Prota really not the [Protagonist]? What’s up with this level of talent? Can this even be called talent?”

Halfway to formation, Prota gasped as the flower shattered and broke, sending shards of ice flying everywhere. They embedded themselves into trunks, slicing branches off of trees and cutting anything nearby.

“Huff… huff…” Prota looked at her hands. “Oh…”

She failed. She’d run out of mana halfway, but she just had to-

“Who trained you?” Kit exclaimed, leaping forwards with shining eyes. She tried to grab Prota’s shoulders, but she stepped back and avoided her grasp. “Please, you have to introduce me!”

“...?” Prota’s eyebrows curved ever so slightly into a frown.

“The shape of that flower? Who taught you how to do that?”

“No one,” John said, answering for her. His voice was weak. “She just… did that for the first time.”

“Um… it wasn’t the first time,” Prota muttered.

She was looking at the message in her window.

[Attempt at activating passive: Creation, has begun]

The ability she’d used in the cave. She remembered the message she’d received as she left.

[Since the skill has been forcibly awakened, it will be cancelled after usage. In order to awaken it again, please train harder.]

She’d do it, no matter what.

“You did it? Where?”

“In the cave,” Prota said, making an oval with her arms.

“The… of course,” Kit laughed, shaking her head.

“You absolutely have to send Prota to this school. It’s called Scholaris.” Kit leapt over to John and grabbed his shoulders. “Promise me. Say you promise.”

“Hey, hey, I was planning on doing that already! Let go of me, you damn fox!”

“Aw, that’s no to talk to a pretty young lady,” Kit pouted.

“Pretty young lady? You’re an old hag,” John muttered, dusting himself off.

“Prota.” Kit turned to her with an almost greedy smile. “Practice just that, alright? Nothing else.”

Prota nodded energetically. However, to Kit, it looked like she’d just nodded twice.

“Is she… excited?” Kit asked.

“Yeah. That’s a big nod. Normally she kinda just bobs her head a little,” John shrugged. “She’s probably super excited for this one.”

~~~

Hours of training flew by, and seven days passed in the blink of an eye with Prota training in a hellish regiment. Practicing the refining of her mana, creating new spells, learning incantations… it was endless, but she was keeping up with it. It was obvious that she was tired, but she would always push through, no matter what.

She was getting stronger. She could feel it. It was just that every time she looked forward, every time she looked at those in front of her, they just felt so far away. Kit, a Mystic. Fate, a B class core capable of magic far beyond what she was capable of. John… well, John was John.

She was still lacking.

“Kh!” she gasped as the flower in her hand blew up again. She fell to her knees, exhausted. She’d done this once already, so why was it so hard?

“Take a break,” Kit said kindly. “You’re doing much more than I’ve ever seen anyone do. It’s alright to rest now and then.”

Prota gulped and shook her head, shakily getting back to her feet. One more time. She’d try it one more-

“No. No more,” Kit said sternly. “Not until you get a good rest.”

“...” Prota wanted to argue, but she was barely standing.

“Go. Shoo,” Kit said. “Go sit down.”

Prota tried to argue but was inevitably forced to rest against a tree. The wind blew through her hair as she activated mana recovery.

“Stronger…” she muttered as she looked at her hands. She was now capable of various fire and ice spells, each more powerful than ever before, and she was using wind and shadow magic to a weak extent as well.

Was she strong enough, though? She thought back to the demon king. Would she ever reach a level of strength like that? She looked up at the clear blue sky. Things were peaceful now, but how long would things last like that? If this was a story, then wasn’t something coming? She didn’t quite get it, but slowly she was beginning to understand how John made decisions.

It wouldn’t be long before they had to go up against someone strong. Before then, she needed to grow. To ensure she wouldn’t be left behind, she had to keep up-

“It doesn’t feel like enough, right?”

Prota looked over as Fate’s voice came from her right. The boy was leaning against the same tree as her, careful not to get too close.

“I understand that feeling. It feels like you’re not strong enough yet, right?”

“...” Prota just stared at him.

“I lost a lot of my comrades once,” Fate said. The mask was distorting his voice, but the words were bitter.

“I thought I was strong, once. But there are always bigger fish out there. And… well, I couldn’t protect everyone. Actually, I couldn’t protect anyone. Not even myself, in the end.”

A shallow laugh emerged from the mask.

“Now that I’m here, I pushed myself to get stronger again. I swore I would protect those around me. I swore that this life would be better. But… I was wrong again.”

“...?”

“Ha ha. Just ignore me,” Fate said. “You probably don’t understand most of what I said, but… Prota. You want to protect those around you, right? But you’re never going to be perfect. You’re never going to live a flawless life. And the more you try to live that flawless life, the more you’re going to destroy yourself. So sometimes… it’s better to focus on yourself.”

Prota thought about that. Focus on herself? What…. What did that mean?

“Well, you’re young. So don’t worry about it too much.”

It was strange to hear the words “you’re young” from a boy who looked to be about ten, but then again, ever since she’d met John, nothing had made sense.

“We’ve still got a long way to go. There’s a lot of things to do.”

John, who’d been sitting on the other side of the tree, closed his eyes and grit his teeth.

It bothered him.

“Why? Why are you trying so hard to protect others when you can’t even protect yourself?”

Where was the justice? Why did Prota have to suffer only to continue to suffer for others? He didn’t get it.

No, he did know why. It was good for the [Plot]. Angst and pain. Certain traits were required for growth, for an interesting character, something he was not. Everyone saw her pain as part of her journey, but he knew. It existed only for the [Plot].

“I’ll get out. Someday.”