As I walked to the first lecture early in the morning, journeying the island's paths, I found it challenging to suppress a broad smile. The successful closure of the Breakthrough the previous night had not only released the tension in the Break, but it had also seemingly influenced the physical world. Just yesterday, a sense of depression had been evident in the demeanor of many people. Today, however, almost all the students I crossed paths with seemed to be in high spirits. The morning news, which reported the containment of the Cascading Breakthrough, had evidently uplifted many. After all, it's difficult to go about your daily life with the shadow of an unknown threat looming over you.
Moreover, the new issue of Mirage Comics magazine, featuring my story, was due to be released today. Theoretically, the capital's bookstores would open their doors at nine in the morning. I could skip the first lecture to buy a copy immediately, but I dismissed that idea as impulsive childishness when I woke up. I resolved to purchase the magazine in the evening after classes, or at lunchtime if it was delivered to the university bookstore.
Much to my surprise, our small study group was all present for the first lecture. Even Maya attended, though when I left the BKDW headquarters at three in the morning, she was still working on a report that she most likely wouldn't have finished before five. She really should have taken the opportunity to rest, but instead, she showed up for a rather ordinary lecture on advanced mathematics. Perhaps the routine of studying is as comforting to her as it is to me? But then again, why am I surprised? Some measure of regularity and consistency can indeed have a positive impact on a person's mental health. That's a fact I learned in my previous world. Despite the circumstances, Maya didn't seem particularly worn out, and even the dark circles under her eyes weren't as prominent as usual.
After the lecture, Maya vanished into the Break, while Jan Larson, as was his habit, rushed off immediately to his next class. Claire caught Christian and me on the stairs.
"Did you guys notice?" she asked us, her voice a theatrical whisper.
"Notice what?" Christian responded, posing a counter-question on our behalf.
"Maya Grimm has started using makeup, of course!" Claire rolled her eyes.
"She has?" Christian questioned.
"Ugh!" Claire threw up her hands dramatically. "Why did I even bother asking you two? All men are as blind as moles!"
With that, she shot us a disdainful look and sauntered off towards her lecture.
"Hmm," Christian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Even if Maya is wearing makeup, so what? I don't get what our redhead is on about."
"Why are you looking at me?" I replied. "You think I understand her?"
"Yeah, she has a few loose marb...," Christian began, but then he halted his speech and looked around before continuing. "I mean, she's enigmatic and unpredictable!"
"She's gone, she's gone," I couldn't help but laugh.
"Surely, she's gone... Who knows! If I hadn't seen her medical records, I'd have thought she was a shapeshifter - her hearing is so sharp!"
"Have you seen her medical records?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah..." The guy brushed off my question as if it were trivial.
"But how? They're not exactly public, and it's not easy to gain access to them."
"Well..." He clearly didn't want to discuss it. "It wasn't easy, but I managed."
I suspected that if I probed further, he'd just lie, so I eased up a bit:
"So, what did you find there?" I asked. I felt a little guilty for my curiosity, but I asked anyway.
"She's not a shapeshifter and not a sensum, just an ordinary girl, almost perfectly healthy, albeit hyperactive. I didn't look closely, I just checked whether she had a Spark or an Inner Beast, and then closed the file almost immediately."
"I believe you. If I had the chance, I'd probably look into her personal file too." The operative word in this sentence is "probably," which is exactly what prevents my spiritual sword from deeming these words as a lie.
"Exactly!" Christian took my words a bit out of context. "I did it purely in self-defense!" He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear. "I'm certain she's stalking me! She knows too much about my relationship with Mary!"
"Pf-f-ft," I grinned. "What's there to know? It's written all over your face! If you two have a fight, it's immediately obvious that you're like a sulky mime, and if something good happens, you're radiant all day."
"Really?" The dark-haired lad was surprised.
"Really," I confirmed; this guy indeed wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to romantic affairs.
After two more lectures, the three of us regrouped at lunchtime, this time at an outdoor cafe situated almost in the center of the university island. This place was renowned for its pastries, and we were lured here by Claire, the infamous eclair aficionado. How she maintains her figure with such a sweet tooth is another mystery of this world's nature to me.
Before I had the chance to set the plates on the table and properly settle into a chair, the redhead, opening her slim business briefcase, pulled out a rather thick paperback magazine and, slapping it on the table, slid it towards me along with a ballpoint pen.
"Remember your promise? Sign it!" She declared, her tone unequivocal.
Damn! Where did she get the latest issue of Mirage Comics? I had literally just been to the local bookstore twenty minutes ago, and they told me the morning delivery hadn't arrived yet. Although, they were expecting a shipment of new items any minute now. Could it be that I missed Claire by ten minutes and she managed to snag the magazine before me?
Oddly enough, it felt like there was nothing to worry about, that everything was already done. Yet when my palm touched the magazine, my fingers trembled slightly from nervous tension. I had secretly hoped that after discussing with the editor, an illustration from my work would grace the cover. But reality proved more pragmatic. The publisher played it safe by sticking to time-tested titles for the cover, rather than the work of an unknown newcomer.
I could have teased Claire a bit, leisurely thumbing through the magazine from the start. Instead, I flipped open the table of contents, located the page number I needed, and swiftly turned to the spread I sought. The mass-printed illustrations had lost some of their brightness and color contrast, but I was prepared for that. Even so, "The Legend of the Jade Falcon" looked fantastic.
"Write! To the best friend and inspirer, Claire, the author's first autograph!" The redhead rubbed her hands together excitedly.
"Why are you the inspirer?" Christian asked, voicing his surprise before I could.
"Well, it could just be 'best friend,' or you can leave all that out. The important part is that it's the first autograph!" The girl waved it off.
Not wanting to disappoint her, I signed as she requested. The redhead immediately snatched the magazine back, but then Christian grabbed it and pulled it towards him.
"Let me read!" The dark-haired guy pleaded.
"Dream on!" Threatening him with a fork, Claire forced her classmate to relinquish the magazine. "I haven't read it yet. Buy your own copy."
"But you don't even like comics." Christian sounded slightly miffed.
"I wasn't interested before." The redhead nodded at him. "Now, I'm not so sure!"
However, instead of reading at the table, the girl stashed the magazine in her briefcase and slid a plate with an eclair towards her.
"Uru-ru-ru!" She purred in anticipation, then bit into the pastry.
'What a little rascal!' I could easily read the silent accusation in Christian's eyes. It was good that he had the sense not to voice his thoughts aloud. After demolishing half of the pastry in five seconds, the redhead pushed the plate away from her and asked:
"What about Mary's birthday party? What should we bring? What gifts should we give?"
Switching to any other topic wouldn't have lessened the dark-haired guy's irritation at being denied the chance to read the comic. But the topic of Mary's birthday was the only thing that could make Christian instantly forget about everything else. I wondered if the redhead had done that on purpose, or if it was just a coincidence?
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
In terms of packing, the task was rather straightforward as we were only going to be away for a single night, and not an entire week. Essentials such as hygiene products and a change of clothes were all that was needed; everything else was expected to be provided at the rental house. As for gifts, Mary proved herself to be a practical girl. Christian suggested that we contribute a monetary donation to help offset the cost of the trip. The proposed sum of one hundred francs seemed reasonable to both Claire and me, and we agreed. The only task left was to purchase envelopes to give the cash a semblance of a proper gift, which was effortlessly done.
Exhibiting a fair amount of self-discipline, I didn't let the excitement derail my day. I completed my studies as usual, attending all the scheduled lectures for the day before heading off to the bookstore. I must admit, it was a struggle to maintain a leisurely pace and not break into a run. It seemed ridiculous, considering I was on a mission to find the Door and prevent the End of the World, yet here I was, anxious about obtaining a magazine. But somehow, it did matter to me.
As it turned out, my anxiety was in vain. The local bookstore usually had two dozen copies of the latest issue of Mirage Comics, but by the time I got there, they had all been sold out. They assured me that another shipment would arrive by tomorrow.
Since all my classes for the day were over, I could have easily slipped into the Break and dashed off to the capital within minutes to secure a copy of the magazine. But doing so would've felt rather childish and impatient, and as an adult, I decided that I could afford to wait until tomorrow.
Next, I headed to the library and used one of the computers with internet access to place an order for custom-printed T-shirts. Naturally, I picked the illustration from my comic that had received Maya's seal of approval. It seemed unthinkable not to make use of her permission. The company processing my order assured me of their prompt service, and they promised to deliver the finished T-shirt within two days.
To make the most of my time, I found a secluded spot after placing the order, transitioned to the Break, and then sprinted to my secret cave by the coastline that had almost become a second home to me. There, I spent the entire evening attempting to master the projection technique. Despite Abel de Diaz having demonstrated the flow of energies and his method to me, replicating it in practice was no simple task. After several hours of strenuous effort, I was only able to sense something on three occasions, and even then, it was extremely fleeting. It was as though I was establishing a novel connection with Metatron. However, as soon as I tried to hold onto this thread, it would vanish, disintegrate as if it had never been. It was a minor achievement, but it gave me hope that I was on the right path and that I stood a chance of mastering this technique on my own.
I greeted midnight decked out in Metatron. There was a chance, despite our certainty, that a new tear in reality might occur, as it had for three consecutive days. Only when the clock ticked over to ten past midnight did I allow myself to unwind. We were correct; the Cascading Breakthrough was closed.
After doffing the First Angel, I reentered the Break, this time using the Affinity ability to do it silently. It was, on one hand, a fairly useless talent; on the other, it could occasionally prove useful. My paranoia quickly conjured up a dozen situations where it could come in handy. Yet, I doubted these scenarios would ever occur in my lifetime.
As I leaped from the cliff, balancing on the waves, I contemplated. I could have rushed to the capital to assist Halley, Maya, Rex, and Leonidas, who had promised to help with the reports. It would undeniably have been the right, responsible thing to do. However, instead, I spent around ten minutes cavorting with blades on the waves before heading to my dorm room. I chose to get a good night's sleep for the first time in these hectic few days rather than aiding others.
"Why are you so chipper?" Christian greeted me with this question before the first lecture.
The black-haired lad himself looked disheveled and kept yawning.
"I simply got a good night's sleep," I confessed openly.
"A good night's sleep?" Christian feigned astonishment, asking again.
"That's when people sleep," Claire interjected, approaching from behind. "They sleep, not engage in mysterious activities under the covers, imagining certain things about certain people." She then added, somewhat doubtfully, "Or maybe about people not so certain."
"I don't..." Christian began to defend himself but realized the redhead was baiting him and simply waved it off.
Their playful banter was interrupted by Jan Larson, who approached, indicating that the lecture was about to begin in a couple of minutes.
The first half of the day flew by unnoticed; engaging history and sociology lectures passed as if they had lasted mere minutes. Before lunch, I popped into the bookstore and bought three magazines. One for me, the second to autograph for Christian as promised, and the third to send to Melanie. Izao would undoubtedly send his mother the fruits of his labor, so I should do the same. I would have gotten a fourth as a token of gratitude to Ketsu Sugawara for helping me decide on the style of the drawings, but he hadn't shown up yet. I truly hope that the upcoming trip to the countryside will coax my half-brother out of hiding.
"Have you already read it?" Claire asked Christian as I handed him a signed copy of the magazine.
"Sure have!" He nodded, visibly impressed. Pointing a fork in my direction, he continued, "Our Izao is something else!"
"I'm not much of a comic book reader," the redhead admitted, stretching out in her chair. "But I quite enjoyed 'The Legend of the Jade Falcon'."
"Thank you." I found myself choking up unexpectedly.
"Have you checked out the online reviews?" The redhead's question caught me off guard.
"What reviews?" I was puzzled. "The magazine's digital version won't be up on the publisher's website for another month. I'll read them then."
"What does the publisher's official website have to do with it?" Claire dismissed my confusion with a wave of her hand. "There are countless forums for comic book fans. I'm sure they're already discussing the new release."
Knowing how people on these online platforms don't hold back in their comments and relish in bad-mouthing others under the cover of anonymity, I was somewhat apprehensive about going there myself to read the reviews.
"I think I'll wait until it's published on the official website," I answered hesitantly.
"I don't understand, are you naturally uncurious?" Claire scrutinized me over her tea cup after taking a sip. "Or do you have an iron will?"
"Ha!" Christian chimed in. "He's just scared."
"Really?" The redhead was taken aback.
"Yep!" My classmate nodded. "He's not exactly terrified, but look at him, he's practically green."
Christian was clearly exaggerating. I wasn't scared, but I was admittedly anxious.
"I suggest we go to the library after classes," Claire proposed, glancing around us. "In the evening, we can all check out the online chatter about the comic together."
"I'm in!" To my surprise, Christian backed her up.
The pair quickly overrode my protests. In truth, I was eager to know what readers thought of my work. Even though 'The Legend of the Jade Falcon' was partially plagiarized, half of it was my original creation.
So, after the day's final lecture, we ate dinner and made our way to the computer lab. Claire seemed to be well-prepared, typing website addresses into the browser without the need for a search engine. Perhaps I was overstating it, but the redhead did have an excellent memory; she could recall such details effortlessly.
Upon her first search, Claire quickly came across a thread dedicated to yesterday's new release, "Mirage Comics," and clicked on it. I almost wish she hadn't, as I found myself bombarded with an avalanche of harsh criticisms. Roughly eighteen commentators were all too eager to throw a barrage of insults at the "Legend." The critiques ranged from the primitive and shoddy plot to the outdated, out-of-fashion artwork. The "primitive" and "cliché" nature of the characters were also not spared. Each subsequent comment seemed to strive to outdo the previous one in terms of vitriol and criticism. And... I have to admit... many succeeded. After reading all five pages of the discussion, I was almost convinced of my utter mediocrity and began to question not only my decision to create the comic but also my very existence.
"Shall we continue?" Claire asked innocently.
As much as I loathed reading such disparaging remarks about my creation, I needed to confront the harsh truth, so I nodded in agreement.
"Eh..." Christian observed my reaction, shook his head, and handed a ten-franc note to Claire.
"We had a bet on whether you'd opt out of reading reviews on other sites or not," Claire explained. "As you can see, I won. This forum is essentially a haven for unrecognized 'geniuses.' The regulars here are people who have tried their hand at creating comics or manga themselves but failed to gain the acceptance of publishers or popularity even on the web. Hence, all the vitriolic comments. Here, the quantity of comments is the primary metric of success. Your 'Legend of the Jade Falcon' has set an annual record for this site in that regard."
If the original Izao were in my shoes, he would undoubtedly have been outraged and hurt. However, I merely shrugged and stated in an almost indifferent tone, devoid of malice but merely stating a fact:
"You're a bunch of jerks."
"Jerks or not..." Claire chuckled. "Ten francs is still ten francs!"
"Indeed, it's enough to buy two eclairs!" I couldn't help but retort.
"Exactly!" She flashed two fingers and licked her lips in a defiant manner. "As many as two!" She then turned her attention back to the screen. "Let's continue."
On the next website, a gathering place for comic fans, the topic of the "Legend" was one of the most prominent threads on the forum. There was criticism here too, but it was not as ruthless as on the previous site, and sometimes even constructive, complete with examples and explanations. Besides the critiques, there were also reviews from average readers. These turned out to be a soothing balm for my bruised ego. From what I gathered after going through the entire thread, almost three-quarters of the readers enjoyed my comic rather than despising it.
After Claire ensured both Christian and I had read everything, she navigated us to another forum. This site primarily catered to fans of science fiction, fantasy, and combat comics. From what I gathered, it was among the most frequented online platforms, boasting tens of thousands of unique visitors each day. We spent a significant amount of time on this site, given that the thread dedicated to my work spanned nearly thirty pages.
Having read through the comments, I felt a sense of accomplishment. My initial decision to focus on giant combat robots played out impeccably, captivating nearly every science fiction fan. While almost none of the readers sought profound meaning or philosophy in my work, the battles and artistry of the combat mechs resonated with most. I had not intended to draw explicit parallels or impart lessons; my hope was for readers to naturally form analogies to our world through reading my comic book. If even one in a hundred readers made these connections, I'd consider it a success. Interestingly, even on this forum, there were individuals who subtly and diplomatically expressed the parallels between the clan world of Battletech and our local realities.
Naturally, the audience didn't overlook the fact that the clan princess bore a striking resemblance to Maya Grimm. This aspect, which I feared might deter readers, was, in fact, positively received. I was lauded for being the first author bold enough to model characters after real-life heroes. And there was no doubt amongst readers that Maya was indeed a hero and a true Knight.
After nearly an hour of reading comments, my friends finally pulled me away from the computer. I was somewhat grateful as I had realized I was continually refreshing the page, even after reading the last comment.
We spent the remainder of the day roaming the island, reminiscing about the particularly interesting or amusing reviews. As night fell, we retired to our rooms.