Angels are never too distant to hear us.
...
The hallway stretched endlessly ahead, lit by golden fixtures that gave a false sense of warmth.
The walls, lined with intricate molding and softly glowing crystals, reflected faint shimmers on the polished marble floor.
My footsteps echoed against the still air, rhythmic, patient, like I had nowhere to be and all the time in the world to get there.
Which, technically, wasn't true. But stressing about it hadn't helped so far.
My current situation was simple. Everyone likes to blame somebody. And lucky me,I made the perfect scapegoat.
People love putting their opinions on someone else's misfortune.
Whether it's their fault or ours doesn't matter. Misery makes them feel important, and blame gives them direction. It gives them purpose.
My misfortune, their entertainment.
Every ten minutes, a new character appeared, dragging another self-important opinion behind them like a cape.
Same expressions.
Same accusations.
Same overdramatic presence.
Like we were stuck in some stage play that forgot it wasn't Broadway.
Who cares?
As long as I'm intact in one piece, their rambling doesn't work much. Bruises fade. Words don't cut unless you let them.
Just like that, I bypassed another B.S segment with a new character.
His role seemed to be the overseer of the upcoming academy arc.
I guess he was supposed to be important. He had that aura.
You know the type-the kind of guy who talks in full sentences with too many commas and a straight spine that probably aches from the weight of his ego.
The hallways were echoing with my own footsteps again. Like even they were tired of this arc.
"Oh man" I muttered, my voice bouncing off the high ceiling
"Guess today's my D-day.
Now how am I going to get the hell out of this house?"
The corridors were beautiful.
Too beautiful. The kind of grandeur that feels more like a prison than a luxury. Ornate glass windows, white drapes that danced in the faint breeze, and rugs soft enough to silence your sins.
But what's the use if you get lost in it?
I just kept walking forward. No use going back. Not that I remembered the way back anyway.
Today's events were quite simple, really.
I rap-battled with my new "Dad." That went about as well as expected. Somehow excused myself from a small public execution which, was not on my card for today.
Then I ended up in front of a beautiful girl with heavy delusional mood swings. Momentarily escaped from that death flag with the help of Elda, my accidental guardian angel in a combat dress.
But again, I got blamed for not dying by a new character from the upcoming academy arc.
These days, the initial villain arcs are becoming so repetitive that you can see the next ten arcs from the horizon. Like a slow-moving disaster parade.
But my fantasy trip? It'll be a little different.
I plan to skip the academy arc entirely.
But now I'm having second thoughts.
"Five days, huh..." I whispered.
Arcus Academy.
The name itself feels more like a psychiatric facility than a school for magical elites.
Doesn't help that every mention of it comes with ominous music and a dramatic zoom-in on someone's shocked face.
"Ah wait .....academy.... ?
Oh... shit.
I forgot again. Where's the academy located?
NO DAMN..... IDEA"
I stopped walking and placed my right hand over my forehead.
"I am hopeless... sometimes. Maybe all the time."
Just a few days ago, I was frustrated with my job -day in, day out, extra hours, complaints piling up, miscommunication breeding like cockroaches and only to end up here.
A fantasy world. New set of problems, same old anxiety.
Thinking back, what the hell is even happening here?
Everyone wanted to screw someone over, and they did.
Let's just say he was a good character but you know what happens to good characters. They get killed off early in the story.
And the reason?
Was it for the world's sake?
Some deep, tragic backstory?
No idea about that either.
I sighed and leaned back against the wall. The stone was cool to the touch, as if even the house had no warmth left to give.
"Well, let's just sleep here in this corridor for today. Escaping this house needs a miracle."
I slid down until I was sitting on the cold floor, arms draped over my knees.
I wish someone was here to guide me.
My bad,I even rejected the system.
Maybe I should have tried out that system thing. It was better than nothing. At least it would've given me a glowing minimap.
I exhaled deeply, my breath echoing in the empty air like a reluctant confession. It was almost afternoon. Sunlight angled through the high stained-glass windows, painting stories on the floor. I looked around and saw no one in this part of the house. Not even a shadow.
At this point, running into someone or at least requesting help ,seemed impossible. I didn't know how many people were in this place, but I was sure most of them were just waiting for a chance to get a piece of me.
Not everyone's generous like Elya, who at least reveals herself before going for the kill.
Some prefer the backstab approach. Literally.
My thoughts were burning up like kindling. I closed my eyes, standing in the middle of a hallway with no one around.
I just needed to clear my head before I took another step.
"Okay, Dr. Tension," I whispered to myself "no use getting worked up. Just keep walking. I can leave this house by at least midnight. Right?"
Everything else can come later.
"What are you doing?"
I startled. Eyes open wide. My body jerked upright on instinct. I almost fell.
"Oh... damn... another heart attack," I mumbled.
Elda was standing in front of me, her face blank. Calm. Deadly calm. The kind of calm that came before something exploded.
"Glad to see you, Elda.
Sorry, Ms. Elda," I added quickly, straightening my posture like a student caught napping in class.
Maybe I wasn't that unlucky after all. Because now, I had a miracle in front of me.
No need to pray when your miracle shows up and a look that says, Don't test me today.
For the first time in hours, my shoulders dropped just a little. My breath came easier.
It wasn't trust. Not yet.
But it was something close to relief.
Now, maybe,just maybe - this was the way out.
I coughed once, unsure how to begin.
"You know," I said, trying to sound casual, "this place has quite the... uh, scenic interior. All these halls and... turns. Anyone ever get lost around here? I mean, theoretically?"
She raised an eyebrow, unmoved.
"I'm just saying," I continued, trying to mask my plea with sarcasm,
"some kind of exit signage wouldn't kill the aesthetic."
Elda didn't answer immediately. Her eyes scanned me,not judgmental, but assessing. I realized then that she could see through the act.
"Follow me" she said quietly.
She turned without another word.
There was no theatrics. No grand gestures. No attempts to assure me that everything would be fine. Just that single instruction.
And maybe that's what made me follow.
She didn't act.
She didn't sugarcoat.
She didn't throw pity at me like it was charity. There was no love in her tone. But there was care.
She noticed my condition. The fatigue in my step. The chaos behind my eyes.
And still, she chose to guide me.
That alone made her the most trustworthy person I'd met here.
No promises. No smiles. Just a presence that didn't ask questions I wasn't ready to answer.
So I followed.
Because right now, that was the closest thing to safety I had.
As we walked, her footsteps were near silent,of course they were.
Mine still sounded like I was announcing my every step to the whole house.
If this were a stealth mission, I'd be the guy who accidentally sets off every trap on the map.
Still, walking behind her felt… grounding. Like trailing behind a particularly well-armed lighthouse.
There was something else, though.
A small itch in the back of my mind.
A question I didn't want to take with me when I left.
I might not see her again after this. Maybe I wasn't supposed to.
But some part of me call it curiosity or plain human decency felt the need to know at least something about the woman who'd saved me when she didn't have to.
I cleared my throat awkwardly.
"Ahhm... Ms. Elda. What's your full name?"
She didn't turn. Just kept walking, her voice clipped and smooth. "Why ask?"
"Just asking" I replied, casually.
"I like to know things. Consider it character development."
There was a pause. I thought she'd ignore it, maybe say nothing at all. But after a second, she answered without looking back.
"Elda Yofiel."
"Hmm?" I repeated, slightly surprised. "Yofiel, huh. Nice name."
It tasted like some long-lost noble house name, or something you'd find etched on a statue holding a giant sword. It suited her elegant, sharp, unreadable.
Still no glance. But her voice came again, softer this time.
"If I may ask you something… Master Lynn. Can I?"
I grimaced. "Let's start with this.
I'm not your master, Ms. Elda. You can call me anything you want. Just skip the curses."
That earned me the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips. Not a smile, not really. But enough to make me feel like I scored a point.
Elda spoke after a moment.
"Why are you like this?"
I blinked. "Like what?"
"This" she said, with a vague gesture that could've meant my face, my words, my entire existence.
"What happened to you… exactly?"
I slowed down, my steps growing heavier as I looked away.
"Is this your question? Or is this... someone else's?"
There was silence behind me now. She'd stopped walking. I didn't turn.
"I've had enough people asking questions with other people's voices lately" I muttered.
"If this is one of those, save us both the breath."
"It's mine" she said finally. "I'm curious."
That caught me off guard.
I turned slightly, not facing her fully. "Curious, huh. That's a dangerous thing in this world."
"You don't have to answer."
"Then why ask?"
She tilted her head, eyes calm. "Because you seemed like someone who hasn't been asked genuinely in a while."
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Wow.
She really said that.
I couldn't even summon a sarcastic retort fast enough. The moment passed before my inner monologue could catch up.
"...Well" I said slowly, "that's a dangerously accurate observation."
Another pause.
"You're not obligated to explain anything" she added, her voice quieter now. "I just thought… someone should ask. Without expecting anything."
And now I was annoyed. Not at her,but at how much that simple gesture hit harder than most lectures ever could.
I scratched the back of my neck.
"Let's just say... life did a little dance on my face and forgot the music halfway through."
That earned a faint chuckle from her. Very faint. Like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to laugh.
"Anyway," I added, suddenly flustered, "don't start getting soft on me now.
I can't deal with emotional support from people who look like they could decapitate me with a dinner spoon."
Elda gave a small nod and resumed walking, just as silently as before. But now the air felt a bit lighter. A bit less sharp.
I walked beside her this time. Not behind.
We didn't speak again for a while.
And strangely, it felt like we didn't need to.