Night is always more honest than day.
In the daytime, people can pretend.
Pretend to be strong.
Pretend not to care.
Pretend they are not broken.
But night—
does not give space for lies.
And that night,
Xavier L'Amour finally stopped lying to himself.
---
The dormitory was silent.
The crystal lamps in the hallway were already dim.
Most of the students were asleep.
Their bodies tired.
Their minds satisfied.
They had fought.
Won.
Lost.
But still—
they were Arcanum users.
They had something.
Unlike Xavier.
---
He stood in the academy's back courtyard.
Alone.
The night sky stretched wide above him.
The stars were silent.
Uncaring.
Just like the world.
Xavier raised his hand.
He stared at his palm.
The same hand.
The same body.
Nothing had changed.
"…Damn it."
He clenched his fist.
Hard.
Darius's shadow appeared in his mind.
The punches.
The kicks.
That disappointed gaze.
Not hatred.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
As if Xavier was not even worth hating.
That—
hurt more.
---
He stepped forward.
Inhaled.
And—
punched.
An empty punch.
Striking the air.
No power.
No technique.
No Arcanum.
Just—
a boy—
who did not want to be weak.
He punched again.
And again.
And again.
The skin on his hands began to sting.
But he did not stop.
For the first time—
he was not waiting for luck.
He moved—
on his own.
---
"You're doing it badly."
That voice.
Calm.
Cold.
From behind him.
Xavier stopped.
He did not need to turn around.
He already knew.
"…Yeah."
he said.
Honestly.
Caelum Argentis stood there.
As always.
Calm.
Perfect.
Untouchable.
He looked at Xavier.
Not with mockery.
Not with pity.
But—
analysis.
"You are wasting energy."
he said.
"Your movements are inefficient."
Xavier let out a small chuckle.
"Heh. Not everyone is a genius."
Silence.
Caelum stepped closer.
"Why did you stand up again?"
The question—
was strange.
Xavier turned his head.
"What?"
"You lost."
Caelum said.
"Humiliating."
Direct.
Without emotion.
"You could stop."
He stared into Xavier's eyes.
Deep.
"No one expects anything from you."
That—
was true.
No one.
No one believed in him.
No one hoped for him.
He was just—
lucky trash.
Xavier gave a small smile.
Tired.
But real.
"…I know."
Silence.
The night wind blew.
Cold.
But not enough to freeze him.
"But."
He clenched his fist again.
"I don't like it."
he said.
Softly.
Honestly.
"I don't like how it feels."
Silence.
For the first time—
Caelum's gray eyes shifted slightly.
Not emotion.
But—
acknowledgment.
"…I see."
He turned around.
Started to walk away.
But before he left—
he said one thing.
"If so—"
He stopped.
Did not look back.
"Stand."
Not advice.
Not an order.
Just—
a statement.
Then he left.
---
Xavier stood alone again.
But—
not the same as before.
He inhaled.
Deeply.
And—
punched again.
Worse than before.
Weaker.
Slower.
But—
he did not stop.
---
Inside him—
something moved.
Clearer now.
Still small.
Still weak.
But—
awake.
For the first time—
that luck
did not move
to save him.
It moved—
as a response.
A response to a choice.
A response to—
desire.
And far inside something—
that did not even have a form—
that something
was still watching.
Not because of his luck.
But because—
for the first time—
Xavier L'Amour
did not wait for the world
to choose him.
He—
chose
to stand.