Michael woke up with a start. Though, ‘woke up’ might not be the correct term for it. He felt like someone slammed his head into a brick wall. It was that kind of a migraine. What he saw after looking around was dire. He couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds, judging by the number of bodies on the floor. People were still trying to move, but more and more were falling every second.

He saw why. That adventurer… Alric. The toxic fumes he was giving out were a little lighter than air. They had filled the room, but not from the floor to the ceiling. If one stayed down, one could breathe. He guessed that’s why he saw that those on the floor still had moving chests or were even waking up, like him.

That’s a gas? This is… smog. Toxic smog!

Then again, who knows with what that potion interacted in the adventurer’s stomach. He could hear the others, but it seemed like the fog also had a sound dampening effect, since the shouts he heard were like the ones in a bad horror movie. Distant and distorted.

Still, he had to think fast. He gave it a few looks, but what he saw every time confirmed his thoughts. The fog level was lowering. And if it reached the floor, he was out. His shield Spell might have kept it back, but it wasn’t airtight. Nor did he know any other Spells.

What to do, what to do.

He knew the general area of the exit… but enough benches had been overturned and bodies had fallen that he wasn’t sure he could drag himself to it before the fog fell completely. And to make things worse…

“|Spherical Shield|!” the professor croaked, coughing.

Michael saw what he had done. Finally, after coming to his senses, the man had managed to envelop Alric’s head. The adventurer would probably die, but at least no more fog would be expelled. The lowering of the clouds above had already slowed. But too many students weren’t waking up.

And on top of that, professor Gerald dropped like a rug on the floor, not ten feet away from him.

Great.

Michael had to decide. Save himself or try and save the man too. But he was only one life.

But… he is a professor. A member of Gnosis. If I take him to safety and wake him up… Could he help the others?

Damn it.

Mind made up and hoping it wouldn’t come back to bite him, Michael trudged over to the professor. It took a hot minute, but he finally made it.

“Sir.” He said. “Sir, wake up.”

Nothing. The man was out like a light.

“Please don’t be too hurt from this.” He muttered and gave him the mother of all slaps.

“Ouch! Wh- Just what do you think you’re doing?!” the man exclaimed.

“Sir. You had fainted. I needed to wake you.”

“What… Oh. Yes, I remember. Michael, is it?”

“Yes, sir. We need to get out of here. And we need to help the others.” Gesturing at the ones on the floor.

“I’m afraid we need to look out for ourselves.” The man sadly said. “I know of no spell to remove this gas. I stopped its source, but… what had that fool eaten?”

“Sir. Can’t you at least drag the students to safety?”

“All of them?! I- I’m afraid that was never among my specialties.”

“A communication Spell? Michael tried. “Anything?”

The man shook his head sadly.

“I sent one. If anyone heard, they’re already coming. But I imagine even if they have arrived and have already started to drag students outside the classroom, we would have no idea. This gas is quite obstructive. And I know Spells to direct byproducts. But this fog… perhaps I could move it with an air Spell. But where would I move it to?”

“Outside.” Michael gasped. “Sir, there are windows! Are they warded?”

“No, but-“

“Then we could break one! Make a whole and direct the gas through it, as best we can.”

“And where are the windows, Michael?” the old men asked.

“Where? They’re right… there…”

The classroom had two sets of windows. Both high up, both nowhere to be seen. The fog was all obstructing. Maybe he could have aimed randomly until he found them, but…

“You’d run out of magic.” Gerald said, guessing his thoughts. “I’d run out of magic. Perhaps if one of those martials were here… never thought I’d want them here. Alas, they are not. And we cannot guess our aim either, Michael. The ceiling is curved and angled. One missed Spell could come back and hurt the very ones we are trying to save. Or worse yet, break Alric’s containment.”

“Then… we run?” Michael asked, dejected.

“We must.” The old man nodded.

They dragged themselves, on their stomachs, to where they thought the exit was. They had to navigate around bodies, walls of fog limiting their visibility. They dragged themselves, but to Michael it felt like running. He couldn’t get the thought of those windows outside his head. He didn’t have a wide-ranging attack Spell. Just his fire Spells. His shielding Spells wouldn’t work. He needed a way to break those windows regardless of where he attacked. Yet he had nothing.

If only Sinestra managed to teach him something useful instead of flirting.

Wait. That’s it!

The gorgon hadn’t managed to teach something useful. Not yet. But she was in the process of! |Heat Vision|. It wouldn’t make his attacks wider ranging, but it would help him see where to attack. Those windows faced the sunlight. Or whatever light Gnosis produced. But he knew it from experience, the light from outside was warm. Warm enough to heat windows!

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“Michael. Why have you stopped?” the professor asked from behind him, making him startle.

He hadn’t even realized he had stopped advancing.

“Just a second, sir. I remembered something.”

“Remembered what?”

“I think I know how to break those windows.”

“Michael.” The man said, sounding stern. “I regret not helping as much as you do, but we help no one by endangering ourselves.”

“Please, sir! Just… allow me one moment. Please.”

“Very well. I’ll keep watch on the fog level. But once it drops to a certain point, we’re moving.”

“Yes, sir.”

Michael focused like crazy. Had he focused on learning the Spell before? With Sinestra? In his room? No, he didn’t. Not like this. Now he had a damn reason for learning it.

Come on. Maybe they’ll live, but I can’t take that chance. Come on. Learn. How can you feel heat? How can you see it?

The concept was as alien as before. But Michael was pushing. Brute-forcing the answer. Magical learning cannot come by will and will alone, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to use the most direct approach possible.

I haven’t seen Micah. Nor Bob. They might have gotten out, but I can’t be sure!

It wasn’t alright that the thought of his friends made him push harder than the one of his colleagues, but it did. Unfair, but it was what it was. So he pushed. And thought. How could you see heat? He knew what it felt like on his body. How the sun felt on his skin. He tried to imagine the same feeling on his eyes. He almost felt it, but not enough. How could you see, not feel?

Damn it! I got transported to a magical world. Me! From Earth! I got the greatest magical test in hundreds of years. I got the big chief elf to be my backer. I started a conspiracy to game the greatest factions in Gnosis.

If I’m not the hero of this story, then who is?! I need to have a special talent. To learn magic like no other. And if I don’t, then I need to fucking be better!

He focused, barely hearing the pleas from the professor who he was currently blocking his way. He thought of heat… and cursed it. How does a snake see? Think of Sinestra! Now her body, her eyes. How does a snake see heat? He remembered… they didn’t use eyes. But Sinestra could probably see heat. How did she do it? She just… she just had to open her eyes… and SEE!

|Spell Received: Serpentine Senses|

“I got it…” he muttered, before shouting. “I got it!”

“Got what?” Gerald shouted himself.

“|Serpentine Senses|!”

What he felt… was very much disorienting. He could feel the ground like he had never felt it before. The air too. Every tremor, every vibration. He thought he could almost tell where people were running to and from, where they were gathered…

And the smell! He could almost taste it. Every smell. So. Many. Smells. They were nauseating.

Have to focus. Just see. Nothing else. Just sight.

Yet… his sight sucked. Maybe it was because of a different way of looking at things, but the things he saw were blurry and distorted. The image was also zooming in and out, like he had problems controlling his own pupils. He could see the professor looking at him in alarm, but after that…

“Michael.” The man gasped. “Michael, your eyes. That Spell, what was that Spell?”

“The answer to our problems, sir.” He said.

And focused once again. He had finally done it. But he could feel the Spell chipping away at his mana reserves, now that he looked for it. It wasn’t disastrous, but neither was it something he could keep active non-stop. So, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to decompress. Sight was bad, taste and smell were too powerful, touch was wide reaching and hearing was normal… yet he had a feeling he could stretch out this sense.

But it wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was that extra sense. That new thing. Heat. He knew he had it, he just had to activate it. He allowed himself to feel heat on his skin, minute as it was. Let the sensation travel up his body. Hone in on his eyes.

He felt it click as he opened his eyes. And finally saw it.

It was… underwhelming. It was like a game layer interface interposed on his normal sight. One that stayed there even when he closed his actual eyes. He could see heat, yes. It was fizzy, but he could focus on the details if he wanted to. Useful, surely, but…

I guess I kind of expected a little more. Oh well, if it gets the job done.

He turned his eyes to the place where the ceiling and the far wall met and, squinting, finally saw it. Two shapes. Blurry. But visible. Warmer than the surrounding wall by a touch. The windows.

“Sir.” Michael said, smiling. “Is there any chance this gas is flammable?”

“No.” the man snorted. “Not unless that fool also ate an incendiary potion. But he’d have been dead long before he’d have had the chance to doom us, if that was the case. Do you see them, Michael?”

“I do, sir.”

“Good. Blast them away.”

“|Fire Bolt|!” he said and was rewarded with the glorious sound of glass shattering. “|Fire Bolt|!”

The windows broke apart, but Michael kept his Spell on.

“Do you need me point the-“

“No need, Michael. I saw where they went off. Now it’s my turn.” The man said, lifting both hands. “|Double Casting|. |Focused Spell|. |Twin Gales|!”

The force of the wind emanating from professor Gerald pushed him back into Michael. But it was working. It cleared out part of the fog, creating a vortex that sucked out the major part of it that remained inside the room. The professor kept his Spell up until they could actually see the ceiling, albeit blurrily.

They heard footsteps not long after that, as their rescuers came and dragged them out of the classroom. Outside, in the hallway, a rescue operation had been mounted. They had actually managed to clear a third of the room, before Michael and Gerald blasted off the haze. On makeshift stretchers, different students lay, receiving care from an army of healers.

“Michael!” Micah shouted, from a nearby group.

He bounded over, Bob in tow, who almost crushed professor Gerald, before he noticed who the man was.

“I thought you were dead! Dude, I am so sorry for making fun of you. Never again. Promise.”

“It’s ok. Really.” Michael breathed.

“Michael.” Bob said, voice worried. “What happened to your eyes?”

A healer heard that and approached, before exclaiming and fussing all over him.

“Oh, would you stop that?” the professor addressed the healer. “Can’t you tell it’s a Spell?”

Before Michael could stop him, the professor stood up, addressing the crowd.

“Keep it up just a second longer, Michael.” He said, before raising his voice. “See his eyes? That is the product of a Spell. A Spell learned on the spot. A Spell learned because this student refused to let his colleagues be put in harm’s way. You think I saved you? I was saved by him! Look at him. He is everything Gnosis stands for. Remember that. Remember this for all your time here at Gnosis.”

Michael couldn’t really fault the professor for using him as an example, but he would have preferred not being put on the spot like that. It’s not like he needed even more attention on himself.

“Way to go, dude. Looks like it runs in couples. Your girlfriend was playing the hero too.” Micah said, before he noticed the look Michael gave him. “Not like you, though.”

“Micah, what did you just promised?” Bob warned.

“No, it’s not that.” Michael said. “I can tell he’s talking about Erea. But what did you mean about playing the hero?”

“He meant that Erea has been going in to pull out those that have fallen. I have too… but didn’t last long. I didn’t have the Spells for it.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t either.” Micah exclaimed. “She was just burning through mana, moving so fast. And hacking out her lungs every time came out. Must have drunk like four Healing Potions.”

“Oh. Wow. She must have been on a rapid relief mission.”

The lycan and gaindel shared a look which resulted in Micah partly losing his smile and Bob looking like he was trying to be diplomatic.

That can’t be good.

“With respect, Michael, I think she was trying to find you.”

“Me? Wait, is this about what happened? Because we’re not together. I swear.”

“That… may be so. I do not question you. But I still believe she was only that determined because she thought your life was in danger.”

“I… see.” Michael said, thinking back on Alex words.

“No, dude…” Micah said, actually managing to be serious. “I think it’s the only reason.”

“Right. Why?”

“Well, she was here when they pulled you out.” Bob said. “Not far from us. When she saw you were alright, she stepped forward, but stopped… I guess that’s when she got a look at your eyes. She said…”

“…’Nice Spell’.” Micah continued. “’I wonder who he learned that from’.”

Michael looked at his two friends and realized what the elf must have thought of the Spell, given the way his eyes looked.

I just can’t win, can’t I?