The moment I stepped into my room, exhaustion hit like a wave.
I barely managed to strip down before stumbling into the shower. Hot water hammered my shoulders while my thoughts ran laps.
Training was getting brutal.
The original Dreyden hadn't exactly been an athlete—at least not at the level I was forcing this body to operate now.
When I finished, I dried off and fell onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
There was still time before the next class.
Perfect.
Time to test my new skill.
The biggest concern wasn't what it could do.
It was the side effects.
In the novel, people with Super Intelligence had IQs so high they couldn't be measured properly. The lowest rough estimate ever mentioned was 220.
That was the minimum.
"Ability," I murmured.
A familiar interface unfolded in front of me.
[Absolute Intelligence: Super Intelligence {9}]
A direct offshoot of the Original skill Absolute Intelligence. Possessors of this ability are abnormally more intelligent than others of their species, with reasoning capacity far beyond the natural level. They can surpass experts who have spent years studying and training.
Warning: May extract harmful amounts of energy/calories/nutrient reserves from the body, causing various physical problems.
"Haaaa…"
Short description. A lot of missing warnings.
Like the way users started struggling to interact with "normal" people whose minds couldn't keep up.
Or the sudden god complex many of them developed.
Members of the Star family had died because of that exact syndrome—convinced they were superior beings because they were smarter.
(Author's note in my head: yes, Super Intelligence is above enhanced intelligence or peak human. Remember that.)
I waved a hand and let the screen fade, then forced myself up and headed for class.
What better place to test an intelligence-based skill than a lecture?
Exactly.
No better place.
Class started late.
Professor Leon had been wrestling with the point-testing machine the Triangle used for monthly evaluations. By the time he gave up and turned back to us, he looked oddly energized—like failure had put him in a mood to prove something.
"Today," he said, "we're going to talk about magical energy noons. These are tiny particles only visible to people with special eye-related abilities—and they're the main reason for the huge discrepancies between certain abilities."
Most students actually paid attention.
Including me.
Normally, I'd be circulating my magic control during lectures, half-listening.
Today, I activated my new skill instead—quietly, carefully, like pulling a pin I wasn't sure belonged to a grenade.
Professor Leon's theory class had always been the one I struggled with most.
Which was exactly why he liked to call on me.
Annoying man.
"Magical energy noons," he continued, "are responsible for the materialization of metaphysical energy. By transforming and combining noons in varying quantities, you create what researchers call new energy."
A faint pressure began behind my eyes.
Not sharp.
More like something tightening.
But my perception of the room started to change anyway.
Everything looked… simpler.
Cleaner.
"New energy is magical energy transformed into pure, clean power," Leon said. "No noons. No pollution. But this new energy is different and mysterious—it requires what we call the Language of Gaia to manipulate."
He stretched out his hand.
Tiny glowing dots appeared in the air around his fingers.
I felt an urge to activate Eyes of Truth so strong it bordered on reflex.
My body moved before I consciously decided.
The skill flared.
Noons.
Patterns.
Flows.
Numbers.
The dots gathered, forming a thin glowing thread.
Unlike normal magical energy, which looked blue in my perception, this new thread was pure white—straight, rigid, hovering above the professor's hand.
No matter how the ambient mana shifted, the white strand didn't wobble.
"The issue," Leon continued, "is that thanks to our new partnership with the Green Alliance, the goblin tribe has revealed a single word of Gaia's language. Just one. That's all we have."
He lowered his hand.
The surrounding blue energy faded.
The white thread remained suspended, unmoving, like it belonged to a different set of rules.
I clenched my hands on my knees hard enough to hurt.
Didn't care.
This branch of theory was completely new to me. I'd always struggled with magic equations, and now my brain was ripping through them effortlessly.
Logic lines.
Proportions of noons.
Transformation ratios.
Everything snapped into place one after another—
but that wasn't the problem.
The problem was that Super Intelligence wasn't satisfied.
It wasn't content with understanding new energy.
It wanted to explain why the noons formed the way they did.
It wanted to solve them.
Shit…
I couldn't keep up with my own thoughts.
My mind dragged in math, physics, chemistry—random school memories from my old world—until every discipline fed into the same spiraling obsession:
Explain the noons. Explain the energy. Explain the gap.
The curiosity I usually had toward magic?
Super Intelligence grabbed it and amplified it into something closer to compulsion.
Like in the novel—when Alice first started dabbling in artificial intelligence and spent days half-deranged, just thinking—because her brain wouldn't let go of an unsolved pattern.
"As you can see," Leon said, gesturing toward the white strand, "this new energy seems unaffected by the material world—except by sound waves."
His gaze swept the room casually.
Then stopped on me.
"Dreyden," he said slowly, "are you alright?"
Every head turned toward me.
"Aaaargh—!"
The pain spiked.
It felt like my brain caught fire.
I lurched to my feet as the room tilted.
Memories from my old life—my previous world, past relationships, my time as a reader—flashed through me in broken frames.
And over it all, the same questions slammed down again and again:
Why am I here?
Who is doing this to me?
I was afraid.
Super Intelligence didn't have a will of its own, but it magnified the unknown. It forced you to stare into questions you weren't equipped to answer yet.
My vision darkened at the edges.
"Shit…!"
The burning intensified—
and everything went black.
Darkness again.
But this time, something moved inside it.
A red interface glowed in the void.
[Danger!]
[User does not meet the requirements to activate 'Super Intelligence'.]
[User is violating Rule 6.32 of Gaia's System.]
[A judgment will be held regarding Boundary Break Case #2.]
[Trial in progress…]
My senses flickered on and off. I couldn't move, but the messages kept coming.
[Warning!]
[An anomaly has been detected.]
[Skill 'Celestial Library' does not operate under Gaia's jurisdiction.]
[Trial has been halted.]
The darkness thinned.
Reality returned in pieces.
White ceiling.
Neutral lighting.
A familiar sterile smell.
The infirmary.
My head throbbed—stabbing pulses whenever I moved too much.
"Stupid skill," I muttered.
Even speaking hurt.
I circulated magic gently and pulled up my status without saying the command out loud.
STATUS
[Name]: Dreyden Stella
[Race]: Human
[Strength]: 19
[Toughness]: 23
[Agility]: 22
[Intelligence]: 30
[Perception]: 30
[Magic Energy]: 483
Skills
[Celestial Library {0}]
A great library that stores books.
Stored:
• Eyes of Truth {1}
• Fire Fists {7}
• Action and Reaction {0}
• Super Intelligence {Sealed}
New Version: Improved Intelligence {7}
"…Huh."
That was new.
Even though I created the concept of Celestial Library, it was still mostly an unknown. I'd built it at surface level. Rules, limits, deeper functions—vague even to me.
Now something had shifted.
I circulated magic again, focusing on the new entry.
A window appeared.
[Improved Intelligence {7}]
Enhanced Intelligence is the ability to possess a level of intellect above the norm for your species. It is a lesser form of Super Intelligence.
The user possesses higher-than-average intellectual capacity, with improved reasoning speed and learning ability while remaining within natural limits.
"…So that's it."
Super Intelligence had been forcibly sealed.
And in its place, something more manageable had formed.
I didn't know whether that was Celestial Library protecting me—
or Super Intelligence protecting itself.
More questions.
No answers.
"Great," I sighed.
The curtain around my bed was yanked open.
"You're awake!"
Maya's red eyes widened as she leaned in. She stared for a second, then threw her arms around me in a tight hug.
"Do you know how scared you made me?" she demanded, voice trembling. "What happened to you?"
She pulled back, face tightening into seriousness.
If this were earlier, I might've told her everything.
But now… something held me back.
Like a warning I couldn't name.
Some truths needed to stay buried a little longer.
"I just had a bad headache," I said with a small smile. "Sorry for worrying you."
Maya searched my face for a long moment before nodding reluctantly. She wiped at the corners of her eyes like she hated that they were there.
Guilt twisted in my chest.
I knew I was being naïve with her. I wanted to trust someone—really trust them—and share the weight of everything I was planning.
And for a lot of reasons, Maya felt like the kind of partner who could carry it.
I didn't want to hide things from her.
But there were parts I couldn't touch.
Not yet.
I couldn't tell her this world came from a novel. That I'd read her story before living it.
"Maya," I said quietly, "I trust you."
Her expression softened. A small smile appeared.
"Me too," she said.
"No. I mean it," I said, tightening my grip around her hand. "In this entire world… you're the person I trust the most."
It wasn't exaggeration.
Surviving alone here was hard. Knowing there was someone beside me—someone with the same goal, someone I could rely on—changed everything.
She blinked rapidly, then smiled wider.
"You're the only person I have right now," she said. "I feel the same way."
We held each other's gaze for a moment longer—
then a new voice cut in.
"How cute," a woman said dryly. "But now isn't the time."
A hand caught Maya's wrist and gently pulled her back.
The school nurse stepped into full view—calm eyes, practiced smile, radiating that strange mix of strictness and warmth.
"Your friend is not well," she said. "Unless you'd like me to start distrusting his condition, please leave."
Maya glanced at me.
I nodded.
Reluctantly, she let go of my hand, gave me a last small wave, and followed the nurse out.
Once she was gone, I lay back against the pillow.
With a healer like this—someone with a level 7 healing skill—I'd recover quickly.
In this world, that kind of healing was underrated.
And if I ever got the chance…
I'd definitely try to recruit her into Black Heavens.