Brook completely unaware of the impending disaster, pushing even more flow.
The circuit screamed.
Blinding light concentrated in the center.
Three seconds to explosion.
Maria was nailed to the bench.
The Master's order was absolute: "Just observe."
If she moved, she would be expelled.
What's it to me? Let them blow up. They mocked me anyway.
But Maria's body—a body forged by years of muscle memory to 'protect'—bypassed her logic entirely.
She leaped.
Like an arrow released from a bow, she sprinted the distance from the bench to the center of the field.
"EVERYONE BACK!"
Her scream was so loud and sudden that a few students froze in sheer terror.
Brook and his group turned in surprise, but it was too late. Maria was already there.
She breached the magic circle. The oppressive pressure of the unstable mana scorched her skin, but she didn't flinch.
She didn't have the mana capacity to cast a counter-spell. But she didn't need to. She understood the physics of magic.
She threw herself to the ground, right next to the circuit's main connection node.
There was no time for safety protocols. Without protective gloves or tools, she reached directly for the blinding lines of light on the earth.
Two points... I have to short-circuit the loop.
With a brutal, precise stomp, she drove her boot's heel directly onto the input flow line. Simultaneously, her bare hand clamped around the stabilizer crystal.
It was searing hot from the mana overload. The blistering heat sizzled against her palm, burning her skin, but she ignored the agonizing pain. With a sharp grunt, she violently ripped the crystal from its socket.
The mana connection snapped.
Vooooom—
The gathered energy, milliseconds away from a lethal detonation, suddenly lost its anchor. Instead of a destructive explosion, the trapped pressure harmlessly dispersed into a massive wave of light and wind that only ruffled the students' hair before dying out completely.
The defensive shield shattered into harmless glittering dust.
Absolute silence.
Maria, panting, was kneeling on the ground. The hot stabilizer crystal was still in her hand, steaming.
A little dust settled.
Brook, white as chalk, looked at the empty place of the shield and his own trembling hands.
One of the girls in his group, who was closest to the center, said with a trembling voice:
"It... it was turning red. If it exploded... my face..."
Everyone understood. Even Brook realized how close they were to disaster.
The Master arrived with long, quick strides. Her face was flushed.
"What happened?! Maria!"
She looked at Maria, who was rising from the ground, blood dripping from her palms. Then her gaze fell on the dislodged stone and the burn mark on the ground, indicating the terrifying mana pressure.
The Master, a skilled mage herself, understood at once what had happened. Her eyes widened.
A heavy silence hung between Master and student.
Maria fixed her gaze on the ground, bracing for a reprimand.
"I... I'm sorry, Master. I interfered."
The Master stared at Maria for a few seconds. Her frown didn't unfurrow, but her look changed. From anger to something like "forced respect."
She exhaled audibly.
"I told you to just observe, Maria Alessandra."
She paused. Glanced at the unharmed students of the group.
"But you did the right thing. You reacted at the right moment."
It was like water poured over flames.
No one clapped. No one cheered. The looks were still heavy.
But in the eyes of Brook and his groupmates, the usual mockery was gone. It was replaced by "fear" and a kind of "uncomfortable gratitude."
Maria placed the crystal gently on the ground and, without a word, turned to return to the bench where she'd been sent to sit out.
Master Minerva put her hand on Maria's shoulder and stopped her.
"Where are you going?"
And looking at Maria's hands, she continued:
"Go to the infirmary immediately."
Maria changed her path toward the infirmary. This wasn't a great victory. There were no medals.
But at least today, no one got hurt. And for Maria, that was enough.
The sun had almost set. Sarah, worried about Maria, had come to the infirmary after class ended. Both were sitting on the edge of the bed. Sarah stared at Maria's bandaged hands, silent, as if processing what had just happened.
She saw how Maria, without a moment's hesitation, threw herself into danger to save those who were mocking her just minutes before.
Maria stood up slowly.
"Shall we go to the dorm?"
Sarah stood up too.
"Maria..."
"Hmm?"
Sarah looked into Maria's tired eyes.
"Do you know the difference between now and before?"
Maria shrugged.
"The difference is now everyone thinks I'm a walking disaster."
"No. That's not the difference."
Sarah stepped closer.
"Before... it was you who distanced yourself from everyone. You built walls because you thought you didn't need anyone."
She paused. Her look became sad.
"But now... now they are distancing themselves from you. Because they are afraid."
Maria didn't answer. She stole her gaze away and stared at the view of the training field visible from the infirmary window.
Sarah's words were like a scalpel dissecting the truth.
Before, Maria's loneliness was "chosen"; a defensive shield. But now... her loneliness was "forced." A cage.
Maria took a deep breath.
"Maybe it's better this way, Sarah. If no one gets close to me, no one gets hurt."
She turned and went toward the infirmary exit, but the weight of Sarah's words remained on her shoulders.
***
Delicate ice patterns, like crystal flowers, had grown on the tall hallway windows, blurring the view outside. The white, matte light of the snow outside bathed the hallway in a cold, pearly glow.
Julian Vane sat on the wooden bench by the window. Legs crossed, he was flipping through and jotting notes in an old leather notebook with unusual precision.
The sound of quiet footsteps broke the rhythm of the flipping.
Julian held his pen. He didn't lift his head, just raised his eyes.
Maria stood before him.
The silvery window light illuminated half her face and kept the other half in shadow. Just like her life.
A few seconds of silence. Only the tick-tock of the wall clock at the end of the hall could be heard.
Julian finally broke the silence. He gave a crooked smile.
"Lost? Or looking for a new trouble to blow up the building?"
Maria didn't react to his joke. She clasped her hands behind her back and squeezed her fingers. This was hard for her. Admitting need was admitting weakness.
"I came... to say thank you."
Julian's eyebrows went up. He closed his notebook gently on his lap.
"Oh? Thanks? From Maria Alessandra? I thought that word wasn't defined in your dictionary."
Maria stepped closer. Her shadow fell on Julian.
"I'm serious, Julian. In the court... those documents... that defense."
Her chest rose once, steadying and she stared into the boy's honey eyes.
"If you hadn't arrived that day... if you hadn't interfered... I probably wouldn't be here now. Either expelled or in prison."
Julian looked at her for a few moments. Her seriousness left no room for jokes.
He shrugged and leaned back against the bench.
"Well... it would have been a pity for the Academy to lose one of its smartest troublemakers. It would be very boring here without you."
Maria gave a half-smile. Bitter but real.
"Just that? Entertainment?"
She paused. Asked the question that had been in her mind for a long time:
"Why did you help me? You could have stepped aside. It was dangerous. Varon is not someone to take lightly."
Julian picked up his notebook and stood up. Now he was the one looking down at Maria. His face became serious, his mask of indifference slipping for a moment.
"Because smart and stubborn people like you usually have two destinies..."
He took a step toward the window and looked out.
"Either they rise high enough to change history... or they fall very hard and get crushed underfoot."
He turned and stared straight into Maria's eyes.
"I prefer to watch and see which one you become. Not to see you knocked out before the game even begins. That way... isn't fair."
He walked past Maria.
When he reached the end of the hall, without turning back, he raised his hand and waved:
"Next time, before you decide to blow up the world, let me know. Maybe I can reserve a front-row ticket."
Julian disappeared around the corner of the hallway.
Maria remained alone in the empty corridor.
She let out her held breath.
The corridor was empty, yet the silence no longer bit. A thin invisible thread had connected her to this world.
***
The sun had sunk behind the western mountains, and the twilight was rapidly giving way to darkness. Fresh snowflakes had begun to fall.
Maria walked alone along the cobblestone path toward the dormitory.
Her shoulders ached. With a tired, practiced motion, she shifted the weight of her backpack.
Even though a few days had passed, the burn on her palm—a blistering reminder of the overloaded mana crystal—still throbbed with a dull heat. She paid it no mind.
In a snowy corner of the Academy grounds, a group of students were playing, blissfully oblivious to the darker realities of the world. The crisp air was filled with their bright laughter, joyful shrieks, and their clumsy attempts to build a crooked snowman.
Maria hesitated mid-step. She stood in the freezing evening air and just watched them.
Their world was bathed in light, laughter, and an illusion of safety.
Maria's world was a battlefield of burnt circuits, wounded monsters, and enemies lurking in the shadows.
Maybe I can never belong in their world... but I can make sure their laughter continues.
She lowered her head, buried her burnt hand in her pocket, and continued her walk.
Meanwhile...
At the dark, neglected edge of the path, slipping between the frozen boxwood bushes, a shadow shifted.
No one noticed. Not the laughing students, nor the vigilant guards in the watchtowers.
But deep within the heart of that darkness, two shining red points opened.
Ruby eyes.
The shadow creature was there. Silent. Invisible.
It tore its gaze away from the noisy students and locked onto Maria's small, receding figure.
Then, moving as fluidly as smoke on the wind, it began to drift through the shadows, keeping pace with her.
A hidden protector, watching over a girl who thought she was entirely alone.