Sunny looked at Asher with a slight frown, his gaze sharpening with suspicion.
"Did Jet tell you?"
Asher didn't answer.
He simply kept walking, hands in his pockets. The silence stretched just long enough to be irritating.
Sunny clicked his tongue under his breath and exhaled.
"…Whatever."
He hesitated for a moment, then finally gave in.
"I'd say four days. Maybe."
Asher's expression tightened immediately.
"That's not nearly enough time for me to move out."
Sunny shot him a flat look.
"And whose problem is that?"
There was no sympathy in his voice. If anything, he sounded mildly annoyed.
In truth, Sunny hadn't planned on telling anyone about Antarctica this early. The fewer people who knew, the better. It wasn't the kind of trip you casually talked about.
The bastard hadn't even asked if Sunny was going. He had asked when.
Sunny clicked his tongue again.
'How does he know so much about me...'
"Ah, Sunny. I actually need help."
Sunny glanced at him sideways. "What now?"
Asher scratched the back of his head, letting out a quiet, awkward chuckle.
"Well…" Asher avoided his gaze for half a second before answering. "Can you drop me off at therapy?"
**
"Fucking bitch…"
Asher muttered under his breath as he walked through the streets of NQSC, hands stuffed into his pockets, expression sour.
Sunny had refused to drop him off.
Bastard's excuse was that he had to 'get ready' for Antarctica.
'My ass!'
That guy was just a simp.
In the novel, he had dropped Nephis off without a second thought. No hesitation. No excuses! Meanwhile, Asher had a perfectly valid reason and still got shut down.
The favoritism was blatant.
"Ah…"
He exhaled slowly, forcing his senses inward, dulling the constant pressure gnawing at the edges of his mind.
'Stupid gates.'
Even here, in NQSC, the lingering presence of spatial distortions was enough to be irritating.
He really wanted to go to Antarctica too, but that amount of gates there would most likely fry his brain. It was bad as it was in NQSC it self.
Asher clicked his tongue softly and continued walking, but after a few steps, his expression shifted.
His eyes narrowed.
He glanced back, casual at first, almost absentminded.
Then more carefully.
Someone was following him.
For a brief second, his muscles tensed.
Then... It clicked.
"…Ah."
The tension melted instantly.
A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
'Of course.'
He knew Sunny wasn't heartless enough to abandon him! He even sent a shadow to look after him! 'I definitely arose his suspicion.'
He'd doubt anyone—friends included—if something didn't add up. And Asher had definitely given him reasons. Casually mentioning confidential information, bringing up Mordret like it was nothing…
Yeah.
There was no way Sunny would let that slide.
What did surprise him, though, was something else entirely.
Asher slowed his steps slightly, focusing.
When he suppressed his senses, he wasn't just dulling them—he was redistributing them. Compressing his awareness closer to himself, sharpening it in a tighter radius.
And because of that—
He could feel the weight of it.
Sunny's shadow.
'Sneaky guy...'
A faint buzz interrupted his thoughts.
He blinked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his communicator.
"Hm?"
The screen lit up.
For a second, he just stared at it, then grinned.
"Talk about timing."
His pace quickened immediately, as he turned toward the academy.
**
'That didn't help one bit...'
Asher stepped out of the room, his gaze lowered, fixed somewhere near his feet.
They were still there.
The gorey hands were still clawing at him, as if desperate to drag him back. Half-rotten fingers brushed against his ankles, skeletal remains shifting beneath him, trying to pull him down into something unseen.
For a brief moment, his steps slowed.
Then—
He exhaled.
Shaking his head, he stepped on them.
Going mad now would only waste everything he'd already endured.
Asher lifted his communicator, glancing at the screen again before giving a small, absent nod. Then he slipped it back into his pocket and adjusted his path toward the academy park.
The corridors stretched ahead of him.
On his way, he couldn't help but notice the stares he got. They were a mix between awe, respect and mostly fear.
It couldn't be helped, after all...
His gaze drifted to the side.
Several Awakened were still working to repair the structure, reconstructing fractured walls and stabilizing the damage.
But none of that stood out as much as—
The blood.
It stained the white walls in violent streaks and splatters, like someone had hurled buckets of red paint across pristine surfaces.
Except it wasn't paint.
Even Asher didn't fully understand how it had happened.
The second he woke up, he just released all the pressure he could with gravity, and the next thing he saw were the weak awakened attacking him crushed by the weight.
Flattened against the ground under a force they couldn't even comprehend.
Asher frowned slightly, shaking his head as he continued walking.
"I should've controlled my powers better…"
"Mhm. I agree."
The voice came from behind him.
Asher turned to his back as he saw a figure he didn't see before, but he knew exactly who she was.
Adorned in a regular black suit, her dark, wavy hair swayed lightly as she moved, framing a face that was both beautiful and sharp.
But it was her eyes that stood out.
Vivid crimson.
They locked onto him with quiet intensity.
Asher's expression didn't change.
"Morgan of Valor."
A faint smile curved her lips.
"Ascended Asher."
Her gaze drifted to the wall on her right, lingering on the dried blood smeared across the white surface. The crimson stains were thick and uneven. One could even say that it was art.
Her smile didn't falter.
"Three Masters and five Awakened," she said calmly.
Asher didn't respond.
Morgan continued, her tone as composed as ever.
"Two Masters and five Awakened."
Only then did she turn to him, her eyes sharpening.
"Those are the losses incurred by the Valor and Song clans, respectively.
She began walking again, and Asher followed without a word. Side by side, they moved toward the park clearing, the tension between them quiet but undeniable.
"To lose five Masters and ten Awakened…" Morgan went on, almost thoughtfully, "to a man who had just woken up after two years."
There was no accusation in her voice.
Only interest.
They reached the open clearing.
Morgan stepped ahead of him, then turned on her heel, her smile widening just slightly.
"I'll be blunt."
She raised a hand and pointed directly at him.
"I want you to join Valor."