"This concludes our lecture," Gabriel Mustiel raised his hand, "And now, an announcement." The Count glanced at our small group, "Your curriculum will be reviewed this week due to a new assignment I've undertaken. It's a task I can't morally refuse. Consequently, my teaching duties will be somewhat reduced, but rest assured it will minimally impact the quality of your education." Spotting Claire's raised hand, the young Duke shook his head, "No comments! This week's schedule will be erratic; you'll be informed via mobile messages about the status of my planned lectures. However, within five to seven days, an approved new curriculum will be delivered. Dismissed!"
His last word left no room for interpretation, and our group exited the classroom.
"And the day started off so well," Christian stretched as we stepped outside, "But now... We have to figure out how the boss's words will affect us."
"The Count assured us that our education won't be compromised," Jan Larson glanced at Christian with an annoyed expression, "I see no use in pointless discussions and debates. See you after lunch." With that, he sprinted down the stairs and vanished around the bend of the path.
"I wouldn't worry about it either," Maya chimed in before disappearing into the Break.
"Let's go have lunch and discuss everything there!" Claire suggested impatiently, "I overslept and skipped breakfast, and now my stomach is grumbling like 'Woo-oo-oo-oo!!' or even 'Byr-byr-byr!'"
It was one in the afternoon, making it an ideal time for lunch, especially since we had a long break between lectures. Claire led us to the closest cafe. Her hunger was so intense that she didn't mind ending up in one of the most expensive establishments on the island. While waiting for our orders, we discussed Gabriel's news. Christian and Claire's theories about the Count's new assignment were wilder than the next. I had my own guess, but I chose to keep it to myself.
"Are you my friends?" Christian asked abruptly after finishing his first dish.
"After that question, I'm starting to question it myself," Claire replied with a grin.
"Let's skip the preamble," I chimed in.
"There's a thing..." Christian rubbed his neck, "Mary's birthday is next week..."
"Do you need advice on what gift to give her?" Claire asked, leaning back and clasping her hands behind her head.
"Ah?" Christian stiffened, "No! That's not it."
"Don't beat around the bush," I urged him as he began to mumble.
"Mary is from New Lyon," he started, referring to a city in the east of the country, "And three of her friends were supposed to come for her celebration. But they can't make it. And Mary has already prepared everything. She rented a country house for the day, away from popular spots, with a clearing for a picnic; she had already paid for it. So, I suggested she celebrate her birthday with us instead."
"What?" Claire was confused. "How are we involved in this? We barely know this Mary of yours."
"Exactly," I agreed with the redhead. "What aren't you telling us?"
"Well..." Christian began hesitantly, his cheeks flushing.
"Spit it out!" Claire urged him.
"I, um, told Mary that you two are a couple, and it would be a great double date..." He didn't finish his sentence, as he was promptly hit in the face with the remnants of a cake by the redhead.
"What?!" Claire roared, her face turning purple with rage.
At this point, Christian should have taken the opportunity to make a quick escape, but instead, he wiped the cake off his face and said one word: "Please."
I was about to step in to prevent an imminent murder when, surprisingly, the redhead calmed down and sat back in her chair.
"So, a country house," Claire said in a calm voice that took me by surprise. "Away from prying eyes. Rented for just one day. Is that correct?"
"Yes..." Christian whispered.
"So, an overnight stay," Claire concluded. "And just the four of us."
"Yes..." Christian confirmed.
"Izao," Claire turned to me, her body fully facing mine. "Shall we help this hopeless case?"
"Um, well..." I hesitated.
"A house, nature, a 'double date'," Claire began listing. "An overnight stay. It seems like our friend here may gain something from this," she chuckled. "If we agree, of course."
"Well... Please..." Christian repeated, indirectly confirming Claire's assumption. "You don't even have to kiss! I told her that you just started dating and things are still a bit complicated between you."
"Out of male solidarity..." I began but was cut off by Christian who pulled me into a hug.
"Thank you!!!" he yelled so loudly that the entire café could hear him.
"There's no need to hug me!" Claire squealed, recoiling from the excited classmate. More calmly, she then added, "You're going to owe me one."
After dinner, Christian promised to discuss things with Mary and provide us with more information either tomorrow or the day after. We parted ways thereafter, each of us heading to our own planned lectures. Reviewing my schedule for the day, I decided that I would only attend the astrophysics lecture and skip the rest. Maya was also present at this lecture for the third year students, which was unusual, as I hadn't seen her at the astrophysics lectures before. It seemed her schedule had already undergone some changes.
As I sat through another lecture, it occurred to me that if I were the instructor, I could present the material in a way that was not only more engaging but also more accurate. In this world, they have yet to understand Dark Matter and Dark Energy, and debates about the nature of Black Holes are still ongoing. I had to attend these classes; otherwise, I might inadvertently reveal knowledge that local science hasn't yet discovered.
After the lecture, I didn't hang around. There was nothing I wanted to ask the teacher, so I exited the classroom and left the academic building, bounding cheerfully down the stairs. My plan for the day was to pass by all the possible doors on the island and monitor the reaction of the artifact Halley had given me. The idea to inspect the island first came when I considered that, according to the Creators, I was the one who could locate the enigmatic Door. As such, it made sense to start searching in my immediate vicinity. I briefly mulled over the optimal route to avoid covering the same area multiple times. However, before I could settle on a plan, Maya approached me. She walked up in reality rather than materializing from the Break right before my eyes.
"Lady Maya," I greeted with a slight bow. We had already exchanged pleasantries that morning, but such was the custom here.
"I gather you didn't find the lecture very engaging," she observed.
"I listened attentively," I assured her, without uttering a single untruth.
"I didn't notice," Maya retorted with a shrug.
I was somewhat perturbed that she kept scrutinizing my T-shirt instead of making eye contact. Was there something wrong with my attire? It was a classic Izao look - a giant robot set against an explosive backdrop. I'd worn this exact shirt four times in the past fortnight without it attracting undue attention.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"This morning, I was sent a piece of work to review," Maya began, crossing her arms over her chest. "Lately, we Break Knights have had to censor new fantasy and horror releases. It's related to the Breakthroughs, but you don't need to know the specifics. Anyway," she let out a heavy sigh, "the review took up a lot of my time, which is why I missed the first lecture today."
A sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was aware of the censorship and had been prepared for it. But this coincidence?
"Monstrous, yet in a way, beautiful in their perfection robots. War. Injustice. The dreams of youth. All underpinned by a solid, even classic plot," Maya's smile spelled trouble for me. "I knew you could draw!" She pointed at my chest. "But I had no idea you were this good. Honestly, I'm not a big fan of comics, but while reading The Legend of the Jade Falcon[1] for the first time, I got so engrossed I forgot I was supposed to be censoring it."
Hearing this was certainly pleasant, but it also made me a bit apprehensive about my next question. Regardless, I had to ask:
"The censorship... Did 'Falcon' pass it?"
"Your comic's mechs..." Maya began, her words slow and deliberate. "They're excessively high-tech. Their power in combat is phenomenal. I have no doubt that the thirty or so squads of machines you've described could reduce any Earth army to dust." A lump formed in my throat. "But despite their terrifying power and overall superiority, these giant robots have some critical weaknesses. Their size and enormity make them ill-equipped to fend off and defeat small, ultra-agile targets that could cause irreversible damage in close combat..."
I thought to myself, 'Or, simply put, raigs,' but of course, I didn't voice it out loud. These weaknesses were deliberately incorporated by me and were vividly described in several battle scenes.
"I subscribe to the theory that Breakthroughs are a manifestation of the collective unconscious, instilled in society by mass media culture." Such a theory does exist and is actively debated, so I wasn't taking any risks and, at the same time, I wasn't lying.
"I see," Maya chuckled. "I was wondering about this, but it turns out everything is simple." She paused, lost in thought. "I asked you before how it is that nobody around you is indifferent to you."
"I remember," I answered, treading carefully to avoid stepping on an invisible mine.
"That's because you're too smart for your own good," She snorted defiantly. "Especially for your age. It's frustrating. Really frustrating!"
"Censorship..." I reminded her, surprising myself with my audacity to interrupt her while in Izao's form.
"'Falcon' has been approved and will be published the day after tomorrow," she finally put me out of my misery, not prolonging the uncertainty.
The news made my vision blur and my head spin a bit, and in my excitement, I attempted to hug her. Not out of emotional impulse, but a calculated move. How could I miss such an opportunity, masking my actions under the pretense of overwhelming emotions! It was worth it! Admiring Maya was aesthetically pleasing, but hugging her was... For that, I'd willingly take a beating!
Caught off guard by my audacity, she was stunned for a good ten seconds. No, I didn't cross any boundaries, didn't grope her. I simply hugged her and held her close. Ten of the most delightful seconds in my new life, after which a piercing sound filled my ears: "Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!"
And I fell forward, arms wrapped around nothing, nearly sprawling on the ground. Then again: "Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!"
Maya reappeared a couple of steps ahead of me.
"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" She extended her right hand forward. "I get it – emotions and all, but..." The Knight maiden turned as red as a tomato. "Izao! Keep it together!"
"I...," I glanced up at her, "I was disrespectful. But I'm not sorry!"
"Do not continue!" The girl gestured a warning.
Taking a step forward, she pulled out a standard sheet from her study folder.
"About a month ago, I forbade you from wearing T-shirts with my image," Her voice was as cold as a gust of arctic wind.
"Milady," I nodded in acknowledgment, "such things are not easily forgotten."
"This..." She pressed a folded piece of paper against my chest, "I'm allowing you to wear it."
"Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-g!"
I snatched the falling sheet from the air. It was a fragment from my comic book: a snow-white mech in a swift attack, the visible cockpit, and a princess at the helm of a powerful and deadly machine. The princess who bore an uncanny resemblance to Maya Grimm.
"Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-g!"
"But I am just an ordinary girl from the neighboring yard, not a princess!"
"Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-g!"
It took me nearly half a minute to regain my composure and exhale.
I suppose I felt something akin to the relief of a bomb disposal expert who had just defused a complex explosive device. With difficulty, I made my way to the nearest bench and collapsed onto it. Maya's projection wasn't around, and I could afford to let my emotions play across my face.
What just happened? How did my audacious hug even pass?
Well, it was quite pleasant! And surprisingly, I didn't even get punched in the face. Plus, this permission to wear a T-shirt with, essentially, her image. What's the meaning behind that? I pondered this question for several minutes until the obvious answer hit me. She simply liked my comic. She liked it a lot!
Simple joys: publication, permission to wear her image, hugs... They pushed all the tension from the impending End of the World to the back of my mind, allowing me to breathe deeply. A timid hope stirred within me: could something possibly work out between me and Maya? But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Firstly, there's no use in indulging in false hopes. When they shatter, it hurts a lot. Secondly, why ponder about relationships now, when the End of the World is practically at the doorstep?!
Door! Damn!
Springing up from the bench, I placed the sheet in my folder and set off along what seemed to me the optimal route. I circled each building, and if there was no guard, I went in and examined it, listening to the artifact in the watch. It was challenging, as my focus kept slipping back to the sensations I experienced while hugging Maya. Perhaps, I should have slid into the Break and calmed my raging emotions. But I just didn't want to dull the sharpness of those feelings so soon.
Selfishness? Yes, but I felt no shame.
I spent almost an entire day and evening without finding a hint of the elusive Door. A couple of times, I thought I sensed something, but upon closer attention, I couldn't confirm it. The artifact lay dormant the entire time, stashed away in a hidden compartment like an ordinary postage stamp. After dinner, I visited a few more buildings, returning to my room an hour before midnight, earning a reproachful shake of the head from Mr. Redtliff.
Changing clothes, I spread out a map of the university island on the table, analyzing the route I'd taken that day. At this rate, I wouldn't even cover one percent of Wilflaes in the remaining month, given that I'd only managed to navigate a third of the island today. However, the whole idea to inspect the buildings had been a stretch from the start. I had only pursued it to avoid sitting idle. Maybe it was worth continuing the search on the island for the Door, but it definitely wasn't worth wasting time on the capital. If the Door was there, it would be found purely by chance.
At half-past eleven, I remembered I had an appointment with Crixus precisely at midnight! Slipping into the Break right in my room, I passed through the ceiling and onto the roof, then darted to the coast, zig-zagging like a wild hare. For a moment, I considered not putting on Metatron, and instead attending the meeting in civilian clothes. However, another wave of paranoia made me visit the secret cave and don the First Angel. After that, I used Sliding to rush to Wilflaes' cargo port. Despite pushing my speed to its limits, I was almost late, arriving just a minute before the agreed time. Crixus was already there, sitting in the Break with his legs dangling from a railway crane's boom.
"Oh! Hello!" The Corsican waved to me as he jumped to the ground.
"Hello to you too," I returned the greeting, quickly getting down to business. "Where's the meeting with Mersk going to be?"
"Right here!" The new head of BKDW chuckled. "He was content with this place. He'll be here in about twenty minutes."
"Convenient." I was relieved to hear Crixus's words, preferring not to have to rush off somewhere else.
"Shall we discuss the negotiation strategy?" the Corsican suggested.
Unlike him, I knew these negotiations were merely a smokescreen, a game by Mersk to make his consent appear as the result of tough deliberation to the rest of the Masks. But that was clear to me, and it was unlikely that Crixus knew Mersk was an agent of the Heir, so I agreed and even approved the Corsican's proposals.
"So we're in agreement?" Crixus summarized, seemingly finalizing his plan.
"If that's what you want," I replied, struggling to suppress a grin.
The leader of the "Masks of Novilter" showed up just a minute after the Corsican and I wrapped up our conversation.
"Maestro, Crixus," he greeted us.
"Hey!" The Corsican responded, playfully waving his sword at him.
As Crixus and I had arranged, I stepped forward and extended my hand:
"Greetings."
Mersk's handshake was firm and self-assured. However, I wondered if the Break was distorting the sensation somewhat.
"Maestro..." Mersk muttered under his breath in a resentful tone, tightening his grip on my hand. "Shapeshifters' lackey!"
Seriously? Was he overdoing it? Before I could even complete this thought, the world exploded into a web of red lines. Instinctively, I tried to dodge to the side but didn't react fast enough...
A searing pain shot through my back, and I watched in disbelief as the tip of the gross messer punctured my chest. It sliced through my projection, resulting in my prana dropping by a staggering fifty percent.
Crixus??!
What on earth?!
I made a hasty move to the left, but wasted a precious moment trying to free my hand from Mersk's treacherous grip. Mersk's bastard sword lunged at me. The only thing I could do was continue moving left.
The opponent's blade, gleaming with gold, pierced the area just below my collarbone.
[1] AN: "The Legend of the Jade Falcon" exists in reality; it's the title of the first chapter of the "Way of the Clans" series inspired by the Battletech universe, and it served as the source of inspiration for Izao's comic. Izao deliberately preserved the original story's name as a show of respect.