The moon shone bright, its silver light spilling across the academy's towering roof. John stood frozen, staring at the girl who seemed to walk on nothing, her steps defying every principle of gravity. At the far edge of the roof, a massive sign loomed, carved from stones into letters that read "MANADEMIA." The faint glow of moonlight caught the edges of the stone letters, making them shimmer like etched crystal.
"You seem quite confused. Are you a… 'yoops'?" the girl asked, her voice light but curious. "Hey, are you okay?"
John glanced around, startled to see a man who had just spawned behind him. The man appeared just as bewildered, clutching a small red book—just the right size to fit in a pocket. John, in contrast, had an even smaller book, which he quickly shoved into his pocket, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.
The man addressed the girl. "Hey. They told me I'm a yoops or whatever that is. So… is this really the academy?"
"Yes," the girl replied smoothly, almost like a teacher correcting a student. "Manademia. The academy for aspiring parascientists and magical artists. Or, in layman's terms… mages."
Mana and Academia—fused together into "Manademia." John thought it sounded plausible.
"Mmmm… what is a 'yoops,' exactly?" John asked cautiously.
The girl tilted her head. "It stands for Unknown Parascientific Storage. Abbreviated as UkPS, pronounced 'yookps,' but commonly said as 'yoops.'"
"So… it basically means someone who doesn't know they're storing parascience?" the man asked, frowning slightly.
"No… it refers to someone unknowingly capable of storing mana," she corrected, her tone precise. "Mana is the resource used to manipulate logic."
John processed this, mind spinning. Manipulate logic… so mana isn't just for people. There are other sources, other… forces. He turned his gaze to the man beside him, noting the intimidating aura surrounding him. No wonder someone had once knelt before him in fear.
The man chuckled nervously. "Same as me. Someone sensed my mana, knelt in front of me, and asked for mercy. Weird, right?"
John nodded, remembering the boss. That child's aura must have been terrifying.
"Well, you should get going," the girl said. "You'll be taught about the ethics of manipulating logic, and to discover your own subjective parascience."
The man nodded. The girl then led them to a narrow stairwell attached to the roof, a sign above it reading: "For aspiring parascientists who spawned at the roof."
Spawning at the roof is probably common here, John thought, following.
The stairway led to a door beneath the roof. The building stretched high—about the height of a 52-story tower. Though it resembled a castle, it was a single, impossibly tall spire, adorned with thick, twisting vines that seemed alive, curling around the walls until their tips emerged mysteriously. Along the exterior, elaborate stone steps led to seemingly nowhere, until the ends revealed hidden doors, as if they had been there all along. Below, people moved like ants, and colorful, flickering lights hovered in midair, vanishing and reappearing like magical fireflies.
"Enter this manavator and proceed to the admission area," the girl instructed. "Register with your name and age. Be polite to non-yoops people—they often carry mental trauma."
Manavator… John cringed slightly, but he couldn't judge. The term was silly, yet functional.
The man stepped into the manavator first, John following. The elevator doors closed, then immediately reopened. They found themselves in the admission area, where dozens of young adults sat quietly, waiting for their turn. The manavator had vanished entirely, leaving John unsettled. Mana lingered everywhere, a subtle hum in the air, difficult to distinguish except for a few prominent sources—including the man behind John, whose aura radiated strongly.
A hand tapped his shoulder.
"Let's go. This is all weird, and it's still nighttime," the man said, glancing around with confusion.
Attention seemed to gravitate toward them. John suspected it was the man's overwhelming mana drawing eyes, as another student approached, also radiating mana—but far less than the man beside John.
"Hey, you look strong. Want to join our group? Uh… what's your name?" the approaching student asked.
"What group? I'm confused. Name's Hush," the man replied calmly.
"We're gifted by storages larger than others, and we want to create a group for those like you. I'm Karl. Pleasure to meet you," the other said, ignoring John completely.
"What about my friend here?" Hush asked, nodding toward John.
"Oh, he's a nobody," Karl sneered. "Notice the difference in mana? You can't even see yours, but you can see mine."
John clenched his fists inside his pockets but forced himself to remain calm.
"I'm here to learn," Hush said plainly. "Not to make a group. Let's go—uhh…"
"John. My name's John," he interrupted softly.
"Oh, so you want to join this… John who doesn't even show his book? Hahaha!" Karl mocked.
Who wouldn't be embarrassed? John thought, revealing his tiny book.
"You can go with them," he told Hush, though inwardly puzzled.
"That's your grimoire?!" Karl laughed. "Why are you even here?!"
John fisted his hands briefly, breathing slowly to calm down.
"So, you know how to enter the academy, right?" Hush asked.
"Of course. Take a number card from the robot woman, and you're admitted automatically. The card will announce your name in your head, then you head inside the main entrance." Karl replied eagerly.
"But you don't happen to think of staying with that insignificance, do you?" Karl added.
"I actually happen to." Hush replied with a lazy tone.
"Pffft. Hahaha. Lemme tell you something!" Karl proudly shouted. "This donkey is going to get paired with a mor--"
While finishing his sentence, he suddenly stared blank, eyes wide open.
Karl looked unsettingly terrified.
"Oh, that's convenient. Everything in my head?" Hush nodded to John.
They approached the admission area and collected their cards—number 75 for Hush, 76 for John.
Seated away from the crowd, John asked, "Why didn't you join them?"
"You don't seem like a chatterbox. I'd . my time thinking about them," Hush replied.
They waited in silence.
"Oh, and I saw your book. Looks like mine, but mine's red. We might both be Despair," Hush added.
"Despair? I don't know what that is. Your book's bigger though," John replied.
"You've got the signature skull that marks S-class magic," Hush explained. "We can create despair somehow."
John's mind spun. "So being here might be beneficial—same class and same abilities?"
Hush nodded. "Also to prevent blabbermouths. Hush, hush… Oh, it worked. Turned green."
John checked his card. "John… Jo—oh, there it is. No need to mention my family name." The card glowed neon green.
Minutes passed in quiet contemplation. Hush seemed deep in thought, serious.
"Oh, my number's just been announced," Hush said.
"You can go ahead," John replied.
"76."
"Never mind. Mine just got announced too. Let's go together," John said, standing.
As they moved toward the academy entrance, John asked, "By the way… what did you do to Karl?"
"I bombarded him with thoughts about us eating his intestines," Hush replied matter-of-factly.
"That's… disgusting," John said.
"Efficient," Hush added.
Suddenly, Karl appeared, anger radiating off him.
"Hey, show your puny book!" Karl demanded.
"Why would I?" John replied, continuing to walk.
The surrounding students stared, watching the confrontation unfold.
"Sigh… Here." John dropped his book to the floor. "Pick it up."
"No, you pick it up! Don't you know the worth of this book?! You're as worthless as it is!" Karl spat, kicking it.
Karl stopped mid-sentence. "Worthless scum!" he muttered, limping away.
John looked at the book. It hadn't moved or scratched. Slowly, it opened and closed, then floated lightly.
"Weird. Take your book so we can go inside," Hush said.
"Y-yeah," John muttered, reaching out. The book floated gently into his hands, and he quickly pocketed it.
"Let's go," Hush said, leading the way. The massive entrance loomed a few dozen meters ahead, bathed in the pale moonlight.