"...Repeat?"
Hearing this unfamiliar word, Izaya fell into deep thought. He'd known he was one of Kayneth's most troublesome students, but he hadn't expected Kayneth to actually decide to make him repeat a year.
"You still don't get it, do you?"
Waver suddenly looked around nervously, then lowered his voice.
"I heard the professor is preparing to go to the Japan, so he's making arrangements for students about to graduate."
"Japan?"
Izaya muttered, then blurted out, "He's going to Fuyuki?"
"Right, the Holy Grail War—a ritual of ultimate magecraft in Fuyuki—only happens every sixty years... It's about to start, isn't it? If things go as they did in the original timeline, Kayneth will die in this War... But do I still have to write a graduation thesis?"
Waver, watching Izaya's silence, thought his friend was simply afraid of the Grail War's cruelty, and a hint of superiority appeared on his face. But he still continued to warn him:
"And besides, this isn't just about Professor El-Melloi... I heard that next week, a very important guest will be visiting the Academy. Several Lords are making special preparations for this distinguished visitor."
"An important guest?"
Hearing this, Izaya's curiosity was piqued. The Clock Tower was the holiest site of magecraft. What kind of big shot could make even the Lords take things so seriously?
"No one knows. We shouldn't worry about the big shots above. Just focus on your own studies."
Waver sighed.
"I don't even know how to get the professor's approval."
Just like Izaya, Waver was another unremarkable student at the Clock Tower—not taken seriously. Though he had outstanding talent and insight in magic theory, his circuits were too few and too weak for practical magecraft.
You could say Izaya and Waver were at the bottom of the Clock Tower's pyramid.
At that moment, Izaya suddenly patted Waver's shoulder.
"Don't hesitate, Waver. We don't need the professor's approval. One day, we'll both stand at the pinnacle of all magi. Believe in yourself."
Waver looked at him in surprise, mumbling,
"I never thought I'd hear such words from you... This is really strange."
As they spoke, cautious footsteps sounded from the end of the corridor. A young student in Clock Tower uniform approached, looking a little nervous but hurrying over. He glanced at Waver, then quickly fixed his gaze on Izaya.
"Excuse me, are you Izaya?"
Izaya looked at him in surprise and nodded.
"...And you are?"
The student seemed relieved, speaking in a sympathetic tone:
"Lord El-Melloi would like to see you in his office right away."
…
The Clock Tower, Mineral Department
Kayneth tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of his chair, sitting expressionless in his office. On his desk were documents that gave him a headache—about none other than "Izaya Sajyou."
After a moment, he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. As one of the Clock Tower's Twelve Lords, all his students were elite nobles of fine blood and talent. If it weren't for the Sajyou family pulling strings for generations, he wouldn't have bothered with this boy at all.
But by some luck, the boy had become his student... and spent every day goofing off. At this rate, whether Izaya could even graduate was in question.
Thinking this, Kayneth glanced over Izaya's info again.
[Magic Circuits: Quality B, Quantity B]
B-grade circuits aren't up to the A-rank of ancient noble houses, but they're definitely "excellent." That is, Izaya has the "talent" to become a first-rate magus.
He's not trash—if anything, he's a fine "rough stone."
—And that's the problem.
Kayneth's gaze moved down to the next column.
[Attribute: Average]
Average...
At a glance, it might seem harmless, but to this Lord, "average" meant "miscellaneous and unrefined." A true magus should spend his life honing his attribute to the utmost, striving for the Root's pinnacle.
"Average" meant mediocrity.
On the last page of the file was a note from another instructor:
[Note: During the summoning simulation, this student displayed an ability to "calm" out-of-control familiars as an assistant. The exact principle is unclear, but it's suspected to be an extremely rare form of mental interference talent.]
Calming...?
Seeing this, the Lord of the Clock Tower could no longer suppress his irritation.
Mage battles are contests of tactics and personal ability—what's the point of a talent for "calming" others? To waste such precious talent, with B-class circuits, on this "side skill"... It was nothing but ignorance!
He snapped the file shut with a crisp sound.
Knock knock.
At that moment, the office door was knocked.
"Come in," Kayneth said in a low voice.
Izaya pushed open the door and entered, meeting the Lord of the Clock Tower face to face.
Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald was indisputably a prodigy in magecraft—his reputation was known to all at the Mage's Association. Students both revered and complained about him; he was notoriously arrogant and ruthlessly critical, often questioning whether his students even qualified as "mages."
"You've heard, I assume, Izaya Sajyou,"
Kayneth said coldly from behind his grand desk, fingers interlaced, sharp blue eyes staring down at his nominal student.
Izaya nodded slightly, hesitantly asking,
"Does this mean you'll have me stay at the Clock Tower another year?"
"Not a bad guess."
The Lord of the Mineral Department leaned back, his tone irritable.
"Allowing you to repeat isn't a punishment, but a leniency—so you can barely meet the minimum standards for graduation.
If you don't want this mercy, that's fine too."
He tapped the desk again.
"I'll be going to the Japan on 'personal business.' If, by the time I return, you hand me a graduation thesis that I find satisfactory, I'll let you graduate."
After hearing this, Izaya remained silent, glancing at Kayneth.
If he returns, I'll submit my thesis... The real problem is whether he'll even come back.
Izaya grumbled in his heart, but outwardly kept quiet.
Knowing Kayneth's personality, saying "If you go to Fuyuki, you'll never come back" would only enrage him, not convince him.
Bowing lightly, Izaya said,
"Understood. I'll think it over, professor."
…
The rain streamed down the dorm window, turning London's gray sky into a blurred painting. Back in his room, Izaya sat at his desk and opened his heavy old laptop—cutting-edge tech in 1994.
With the boot-up sound, the screen lit up with a faint green glow. He started a new document, typing out the graduation thesis title that had just come to him:
[The Combination and Structure of Magecraft in the Age of Gods and Modern Magecraft]
...Thinking about it, even if Kayneth never comes back, there'd be other tutors at the Clock Tower to oversee his thesis.
If this were before, Izaya wouldn't have known how to write such a paper—but Koyanskaya had already taught him so many theoretical and practical methods from the Age of Gods.
The thesis wouldn't be difficult.
As he thought of this, that always-charming, dangerous smile involuntarily flashed through his mind. The patter of rain outside seemed to return his thoughts to the frozen land of Tunguska...
...I wonder, what is she doing now?
At this moment—
Ding!
A translucent blue system interface suddenly appeared in front of him. The cold mechanical prompt rang in his mind:
[Top Priority Threat Target... Retrieving]
[New simulation loaded—]
[Alias: "Sleeping Mother"]
[Current Mission: Soothe the "Mother" and keep her asleep.]
"—?!"
Izaya's eyes widened in shock, momentarily unable to react.
"Mother"? What does that mean...?
Before he could react, the world of the old student dorm faded to blank nothingness—colorless, formless.
Weightless.
No sense of direction.
An oppressive force, as if sinking ten thousand meters under the sea, pressed down on him.
When his "vision" returned, he found himself floating in a place without sky or earth. No light, no sound, no other living things.
But when he looked up, his pupils shrank and his heart pounded.
Floating silently in the dead void before him was a presence too vast for words.
A sleeping woman.
Her face was loving, full of maternal affection, yet her body overflowed with corrupt temptation.
At least in Izaya's limited experience, he'd never seen a woman with such an ample chest.
Her voluptuous figure, the symbol of motherhood, was perfectly balanced with a slender waist, full hips, and long, graceful legs. She radiated a mature allure that could only be described as breathtaking.
Her long blue hair, like a galaxy, drifted gently through the void, its length unfathomable.
Yet atop this ultimate "motherhood" and "beauty" sat an element of "strangeness" and "terror" that chilled the soul.
A pair of enormous crescent-shaped horns grew from the sides of her head, each glinting with an ominous, star-like light.
Her body, though human in shape, was colossal—Izaya felt he wasn't even the size of one of her fingers.
And what she wore wasn't clothing, but a special spiritual fabric fused to her body.
Her eyes remained closed, her breaths slow and long. With each breath, the surrounding imaginary space surged like tides.
It was overwhelming.
Unlike Koyanskaya or the Alien God, this was a completely different "pressure," unconsciously radiating from her sleeping form.
It wasn't killing intent, nor malice.
It was... "love."
A "maternal love" that wished to embrace all life and return it to unity, like a warm and primordial sea.
Under this "love," Izaya felt his "personal consciousness" rapidly "melting" away. His soul yearned to fall into her arms, to return to the warm, worry-free "sea of life."
For a long time, he stared at the woman before him, and countless clues flashed through his mind.
The simulator called this quest "Sleeping Mother." In the Type-Moon universe, there was only one being known as "Mother" across countless worlds... the oldest, called the "Origin of Life," the one who controls the power of return...
Realizing the truth, Izaya's eyes widened, and goosebumps broke out.
"...Tiamat?!"