John gazed down at the grimoire resting in his hands. It had grown slightly larger, its cover now emanating a faint, ethereal glow when viewed from certain angles.
He tried picturing it as even larger. The book instantly vanished.
When he pictured it being just half an inch bigger, it reappeared in his hands. Curious, he imagined it smaller.
It shrank without any visible transition—one moment full-sized, the next diminished as if it had always been that way.
So it can manifest however I imagine… but only within certain limits. If I go too far, it just disappears.
John lowered the book and looked around.
The world surrounding him was drowned in white, sterile and clinical, like a hospital stripped bare.
In the distance, he spotted Hush lying on a bed. The bed's frame looked ordinary enough, but the mattress and supports appeared to be crafted from dried, vine-like material, making it resemble a hospital bed transplanted into a mangrove swamp.
John blinked. Where were the others?
His eyes returned to Hush. The boy was sleeping, his grimoire sealed inside a small, glowing red sphere of static—like a restless ball of lightning, humming and sparking, keeping watch.
What about my book? John wondered.
"Uh, sir? You're not allowed to—wait, the ball is…" The nurse nearby stammered, staring at him.
John wasn't surprised anymore.
"Yeah, well…" He quickly imagined his grimoire being inside the orb as well.
The book blinked into existence within the lightning sphere, as if it had always belonged there.
"Ah. Much better. May I ask that you leave it inside the capsule, sir? You're not permitted to withdraw it until you're released from admission," the nurse said firmly.
"Fine. But what about when mages attack? Like those two from earlier?" John pressed.
"Not to worry, sir. Those were testing guards, completely under the Headmaster's control. He manages every security mechanism here, as well as the information they collect." Her tone was reassuring.
"What about cameras?"
"No cameras," she replied. "Instead, the Headmaster directly senses malicious intent. Anyone harboring it is immediately targeted by guards and silenced."
That was reassuring—knowing the Headmaster himself handled security.
Did they send one after Hush, since he flooded that guy with disgusting thoughts? John mused. Whatever. I should just sleep.
Two hours passed before John stirred again.
Hush was now standing before a modern glass pane, unmoving.
This school really embraces modern architecture… except for the vine beds, John thought, shifting uncomfortably.
Across the room, Kinru was mid-argument with a nurse.
"—should be standard! We're magical students, in a clinic, bruised in body and mind! Can't you at least float the supplies to us?" Kinru's voice was fiery.
"I'm sorry, sir, but all spells are nullified here to ensure safety," the nurse said patiently.
"Pfft! What kind of magic school doesn't let you use magic?" Kinru snapped, his cheeks flushed red.
John couldn't help but note how oddly fitting the angry coloring looked against Kinru's stocky build.
Meanwhile, Hush remained silent, his eyes still locked on the glass pane, lost in thought.
---
John's thoughts, neatly summarized:
I have a small grimoire.
Spells can be written in it using runes… but it's too small to be practical.
I can manipulate its size and location with minimal mana. Somehow, this bypasses magic-nullifiers.
I've fallen in with mages connected to despair.
---
Curious, John once again withdrew the book—forgetting he wasn't supposed to. He flipped it open.
Something was written on the first page. The text was so tiny it only became visible after he expanded the book slightly.
It read:
I feel their dread.
They know they're dead.
Ego Desperado.
Creation led
Them to the end.
Absolute Loyalty.
There were still only two pages. The words occupied just the top half of the first.
What does that even mean…?
A female nurse entered the ward, moving briskly between beds. She checked on Kinru, then Hush, then John himself.
"Vitals good. Mana suppression holding steady," she said.
Soon after, the three of them were discharged together—John, Kinru, and Hush.
I wonder what Kinru's mage type is, John thought, glancing at him.
They left the clinic side by side, trading stories.
Kinru cracked endless jokes, loud and reckless. Hush stayed quiet, but carried an almost frightening calm. He didn't laugh, but when Kinru's temper flared, Hush guided him down with practiced ease.
For the first time, John felt something like… belonging.
---
From that day, the three of them became unlikely friends.
The clinic became quieter as night approached. Patients who had been groaning earlier were either asleep or simply exhausted from the draining procedures. The white lights above dimmed to a gentler hue, giving the entire ward an almost eerie glow.
Kinru was still grumbling under his breath, though not as aggressively as before. "What kind of magic school forbids spells in the clinic? Hah. Next thing you know, they'll forbid breathing too."
John chuckled softly, not at the complaint itself, but at how Kinru's reddened face puffed up like an overripe tomato whenever he got angry. Hush, sitting at the far end, crossed his arms and smirked.
"You could learn a thing or two from this place," Hush muttered, his tone sharp yet calm. "They're keeping you alive. If they didn't suppress your reckless mana, you'd probably have burned your bed by now."
Kinru whipped his head toward him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means exactly what I said," Hush replied, his gaze cutting like glass. "You can't control your anger. You think that's strength? It's weakness. Brutality without precision is just flailing."
The two locked eyes, the air between them tense. For a moment, John feared they might actually fight—inside a clinic, no less. He stepped between them, raising his hands.
"Alright, relax, both of you. Look, we're all new here. We're beaten up, confused, and more than a little humiliated." His voice carried an awkward laugh. "So maybe… let's not kill each other before the academy even tries to."
Kinru scoffed and leaned back, arms crossed. Hush clicked his tongue but said nothing more. The tension slowly thinned, replaced with a grudging silence.
---
That night, the three of them ended up talking anyway. Kinru told wild stories about his rough life outside the academy—half of them sounded exaggerated, but John couldn't deny they were entertaining. Hush rarely spoke, but when he did, his words were sharp enough to slice through Kinru's bluster.
John mostly listened. He shared bits of his own confusion: the odd two-paged grimoire, its strange words, and his lack of understanding about how it even worked.
Kinru laughed. "A tiny book, huh? Don't worry, lad. Maybe it's small because all the power's condensed in there. Like… uh… a magical pebble ready to explode!"
John rolled his eyes, though he secretly hoped Kinru was right. Hush, however, gave him a different look—one that wasn't mockery, but quiet calculation.
"You're hiding something," Hush muttered. "That grimoire of yours isn't ordinary. Weak, maybe. Incomplete, definitely. But ordinary? No."
John felt a chill run down his spine. Hush's words weren't loud, but they carried weight.
---
By the next day, the trio had settled into something resembling a fragile friendship. They weren't exactly harmonious—Kinru's passion often clashed with Hush's cold demeanor—but strangely, that balance worked. John found himself stuck in the middle, the unwilling peacekeeper, but it was better than being alone.
"We'll conquer this place together," Kinru declared, slapping his chest. "The three of us. No matter what twisted test they throw our way, we'll crush it."
Hush tilted his head. "Conquer? You make it sound like war."
"It is war," Kinru shot back, his voice fiery. "Maybe not against swords and blood, but against pride, despair, and mana itself. You think the academy cares about us? They'll break us if we let them. So we fight."
For once, Hush didn't argue. He only smirked faintly, as if respecting Kinru's words despite their heat.
John gave a weary smile. "Guess I don't have a choice, huh? Fine. Together then."
---
The clinic eventually discharged them, their grimoires sealed safely within the protective capsules until they were cleared for use. As they walked through the massive halls of the academy, John couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The eyes of carved doors, the flickers of mana lights overhead, and the silent portraits of ancient mages—everything seemed to observe them.
It wasn't long before a voice echoed through the corridor.
"Attention, new initiates."
The tone was stern, unyielding, and reverberated in their bones. A tall instructor in black robes appeared, his presence alone demanding silence. His eyes scanned the students like sharp blades.
"The next phase of your admission begins. You will be tested not as individuals, but as teams. Strength means nothing without cooperation. Failure means dismissal—or worse."
A low murmur spread among the students. Kinru grinned, fists clenching with excitement. Hush narrowed his eyes, already calculating.
John swallowed hard.
The instructor raised a hand, and with a swirl of violet mana, names began to appear midair. Groups formed, shifting and solidifying in glowing script. John's heart pounded as he read the words forming beside his name.
Team Assignment: John, Hush, Kinru.
John exhaled in relief. At least he wouldn't face this test alone.
But then his eyes widened.
Opponents: Karl and Associates.
The smirk on Karl's face from across the hall was enough to send a chill down John's spine. His old tormentor had been given the perfect chance to crush him—this time with magic, and under the academy's blessing.
Kinru cracked his knuckles, grinning. "Well, looks like fate just handed us our first victory. Let's show those bastards what despair really looks like."
Hush's expression darkened, but his lips curled into a razor-thin smile. "Calculated brutality, then."
John tightened his grip on his small, glowing grimoire.
For the first time, he wasn't sure if he should be afraid… or excited.