Asher frowned. His hand hovered over the door handle. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to secure his own future. But then he remembered the flash of the spear, the mimic dying, and the impossible escape from the train.
"No," Asher sighed, letting his hand drop. He crossed his arms, his foot tapping a rapid, nervous rhythm on the floor. "I'll wait. But please... be faster."
Time ticked away.
Five minutes.
Four minutes.
Asher felt like his soul was slowly leaving his body.
Finally, with only two minutes remaining on the timer, Ryn zipped up his jacket and picked up his bag.
"Done."
"Finally!" Asher spun toward the door, adrenaline surging. "If we sprint now, and I mean full Arcana-boosted sprint, we might just make it before the seals lock!"
But Ryn didn't move toward the door.
Instead, he slung his bag over one shoulder and walked calmly to the window. He unlatched the lock and slid the glass pane open, letting the high-altitude wind rush into the sterile room.
"Ryn?" Asher froze mid-step. "The door is that way."
Ryn leaned out, looking down. "Come here."
Asher walked over slowly, dread pooling in his stomach. He looked past Ryn's shoulder.
They were high up. At least the seventh floor. The pavement below looked like a thin gray ribbon, and the students walking on it were mere dots.
Asher's eyes widened. He looked from the dizzying drop back to Ryn's calm face.
"You..." Asher stammered, gripping the windowsill. He almost forgot what Ryn's ability was. "You aren't thinking of teleporting from this high... right?"
Ryn only offered a faint, inscrutable smile.
"Wanna try?"
Asher gulped inwardly, glancing below again.
They were Arcanists. Their bodies were far stronger than ordinary humans, reinforced by Arcana. But a fall from this height? Without a proper levitation spell or a landing artifact? It would mean shattered legs at best. At worst... they would be a stain on the pavement.
"Ryn, wait, this is—"
But before he could finish the thought, a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.
He heard Ryn's voice, calm as a breeze.
"Let's go."
The next moment, the world spun.
Asher instinctively squeezed his eyes shut as a sickening sensation of weightlessness washed over him, like stepping off a cliff in the dark.
He didn't even have the breath to scream.
When he snapped his eyes open a heartbeat later, his heart nearly stopped.
They weren't in the ground
They were in mid-air!
Ryn hadn't teleported them to the ground. He had just warped them out of the window!
Gravity took hold instantly. The wind roared in his ears, whipping his fresh uniform against his skin. The gray ribbon of pavement rushed up to meet them at terrifying speed.
'Crazy! He's crazy!'
The ground was mere feet away.
Asher squeezed his eyes shut once more, his mind going blank with terror, his body bracing for the inevitable crunch of bone and concrete.
Whoosh.
The impact never came.
Instead, the roaring wind vanished in a split second. A strange, rubbery sensation wrapped around his body, absorbing all the kinetic energy of the fall instantly.
Tap.
Asher felt his boots make contact with solid ground with a gentle, controlled landing, as if he had just stepped off a low curb.
He stood there for a second, knees trembling, waiting for the pain that wasn't there.
"It's done."
He heard a low chuckle right beside his ear.
"Let's hurry."
Asher snapped his eyes open.
They were standing on the lawn, safely on the ground. Ryn was already walking away, adjusting his bag as if nothing unusual had happened.
"Come on," Ryn threw over his shoulder. "We have a minute forty-four seconds."
Asher shook off the shock, gritted his teeth, and channeled his energy.
[Arcana Boost!]
A faint blue aura wrapped around his legs, reinforcing his muscles. He kicked off the ground, tearing up clumps of grass as he sprinted after Ryn.
They became blurs, racing across the campus grounds. The wind whipped past their ears as they weaved through trees and statues, heading toward the massive domed building at the center of the sector.
The Grand Hall.
Ahead, the colossal double doors—made of star-steel and etched with glowing runes—were already groaning into motion.
Creak...
They were closing.
"Faster!" Asher yelled, pushing his core to the limit.
But even with the boost, the distance was too great. The gap between the doors was shrinking rapidly. Ten feet. Five feet. Two feet.
"We're not going to make it!" Asher cried out, despair rising in his chest.
Ryn didn't slow down.
Just as the gap narrowed to a mere sliver, Ryn reached out and grabbed Asher's forearm.
"Don't bite your tongue," Ryn warned.
Zwoop.
The world folded again.
Asher's vision blurred into a streak of colors.
In an instant, the hundred meters between them and the doors vanished. They reappeared directly in front of the closing threshold, momentum still carrying them forward.
"Go!"
Ryn shoved Asher.
They both slipped sideways through the final, narrow gap between the massive doors.
BOOM.
A split second later, the doors slammed shut behind them with a sound like a thunderclap, sealing the Grand Hall completely.
They were inside.
"Told you we wouldn't be late," Ryn muttered, already sliding into a nearby empty seat in the dim back row.
Asher collapsed into the seat beside him, clutching his chest as he tried to calm his frantic heart.
Haa... Haa...
He took deep, ragged breaths, trying to shake off the lingering nausea. He had used standard Warp Gates and Teleportation Arrays before; of course, everyone had done that at least once in their lives. But this was different.
Standard gates felt like walking through a veil of water; a smooth, regulated transition.
Ryn's ability felt like being grabbed by the scruff of the neck and yanked violently through a keyhole. It was raw, unrefined, and dizzying.
"Ugh..." Asher pressed a hand to his mouth, suppressing the urge to retch.
However, the commotion of their last-second entry hadn't gone unnoticed.
Hundreds of heads in the vast, amphitheater-style hall turned toward the back row. Eyes narrowed. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd like a contagious disease.
"Hey, isn't that...?"
"Golden hair... red eyes... Yeah, it's him."
"Asher Leonhart."
The whispers grew louder, sharp with disdain.
"The 'Fail-Son' of the Duke?"
"I heard he only awakened a Green Core."
"The trash of the family. Why is he even here? Doesn't he know he's going to get crushed in the ranking?"
"Who's that with him? Some lackey?"
"..."
Asher didn't flinch. He didn't stiffen, and his expression remained unchanged.
He just adjusted his collar, his face impassive.
He had heard these words a thousand times before.
In those nightmares.
In reality.
At banquets, at family gatherings, even from his own servants. They were nothing but background noise to him now, as meaningless as the wind.
He was numb to their scorn.
Instead, his only concern was the boy sitting next to him.
'Does he know?' Asher wondered.
He turned his head to the left, genuinely curious.
Ryn had treated him like a normal person this whole time, which meant he didn't know who he really was. But now that the crowd was practically screaming his identity and his reputation as a "failure," surely Ryn would have some reaction? Surprise? Disappointment? A change in attitude?
Asher braced himself for the inevitable question.
'..!'
He froze.
Ryn wasn't listening.
He wasn't judging.
Heck, he wasn't even looking.
'This guy...'
Ryn was slumped back in his seat, arms crossed comfortably over his chest, head tilted to the side. His breathing was slow and rhythmic.
He was already fast asleep.
'...is definitely crazy!'