Carela and Gray were walking along the quiet streets of London. After their stroll, they were now heading toward Carela's apartment.
Gray, who walked ahead, looked around with a clear sense of curiosity in her eyes—observing every detail of the cityscape at night. In contrast, Carela followed in silence, her mind preoccupied with something entirely different.
Their steps suddenly halted when Gray stopped abruptly. Carela, lost in thought, didn't notice and accidentally bumped into her.
"Ah—Gray?"
"Why did you suddenly stop?"
Carela winced and rubbed her shoulder.
Gray didn't respond—she never could—but simply raised her hand and pointed at something in the distance.
"Huh?"
Carela followed Gray's gesture with her eyes.
"Isn't that the manager of the café I usually go to? What's he doing just standing outside like that?"
Across the street, the manager stood stiffly in front of the café, his expression stern and unusually serious. A moment later, one of the baristas came out to join him. The two exchanged a few words.
They weren't smiling. In fact, the manager's face looked grim, almost pained. He slowly shook his head, and the barista responded with a heavy sigh.
"What are they talking about...?"
Carela muttered as she narrowed her eyes.
Gray tilted her head slightly, as if sensing something deeper. Her hand remained close to her side, instinctively near Rhongomyniad—now in the form of Add, a mystic code cube stored in a hidden compartment under her cloak.
Silent as always, Gray took a small step forward—a gesture for Carela to follow her.
"...All right. Let's check it out, just in case."
With that, the two quietly crossed the street, heading toward the café now cloaked in an unusual tension.
The manager and barista immediately turned as they approached.
"Excuse me,"
Carela greeted them gently, yet firmly.
"Is something wrong? The café is usually closed by this time… but you both seem troubled."
The manager, a middle-aged man in a gray suit with graying hair at the sides, looked at her briefly before letting out a long sigh. He looked exhausted—not just physically, but mentally.
"I remember you… the girl who always reads in the corner by the window," he said.
"Sorry if we look strange. This… isn't an ordinary night."
"What's going on?"
Carela asked, now more serious.
The barista looked to the manager, as if asking for permission to speak. But it was the manager who explained first.
"Lately… we've been hearing strange noises from the basement. Sometimes it sounds like scraping… sometimes like water being struck by something. Our basement connects to an old drainage system that leads to tunnels under the Thames. It hasn't been used in ages."
Gray turned slightly toward Carela, while Carela narrowed her eyes.
"And you think it's… rats?"
"That's what we thought at first," the barista replied.
"We even called pest control last week. But… the guy said there was nothing wrong down there, and yet…"
The manager's face hardened.
"The sounds only got more frequent. And louder."
There was a brief silence. Only the sound of distant traffic and the night wind filled the gap.
Carela could feel pressure in the air. As if something was stirring underground. Whatever it was, it felt like trouble.
But before she could ask further, the manager cut in.
"I'd suggest you go home now. I'm closed this place off for the night. It's not a good evening to be around here."
His tone was serious, nearly a warning.
Carela wanted to argue, but Gray gently tapped her shoulder. A silent signal.
"...All right. If there's anything I can help with, let me know."
Carela said, finally giving in.
The manager didn't reply—he only gave a small nod.
Carela and Gray turned and left the café. They walked back toward the apartment without a word. But Carela's mind was racing.
...
A few minutes later, they finally arrived at Carela's apartment. Without wasting time, she stepped forward and unlocked the door.
As soon as they entered, the quiet of the apartment welcomed them. The interior was clean and tidy—far from the usual mess.
"Thank goodness Kuro didn't trash the place…" Carela muttered in relief.
Usually, whenever she left the apartment while Kuro was still inside, the white cat would turn the whole place into his personal playground. Sofa cushions displaced, flower vases toppled, and sometimes even the curtains would fall victim.
It always made Carela a little anxious whenever she came home. A messy apartment meant more work, and that was the last thing she wanted after a tiring day.
But this time, maybe because Gray was here, she could relax a little more.
That thought made her glance behind her.
Gray stood silently at the doorway, her eyes calmly scanning every corner of the room, as if comparing it with something in her mind. Her face was expressionless, but her gaze was sharp and observant.
Carela knew, with Gray unable to speak, she would never truly know what was going on in her head… even if she asked.
"Ahem,"
Carela cleared her throat, trying to break the silence.
"From now on, you'll be staying here. Um… since my bed only fits one person, I hope you don't mind sleeping on the sofa?"
Gray looked at her briefly, then walked to the sofa without a word. She patted the surface, brushed away some barely visible dust, and calmly sat down. Before that, she placed Add—on the table in front of her.
Her eyes then landed on the old box TV in the corner. She stared at it for a few seconds, then immediately looked for the remote and turned it on.
The soft click and mechanical hum of the CRT television filled the room.
Suddenly, a white cat darted out from the bedroom and sprinted like an arrow straight toward Gray.
"Gray, look out!!"
Carela shouted in panic.
But Gray reacted instantly. With a swift motion, she grabbed Add and raised it to block Kuro's leap—who seemingly just wanted to pounce on her.
Kuro's small body bounced off lightly, rolled across the floor a few times, and then stood back up before running over to Carela.
With an agile leap, Kuro landed on her shoulder as usual.
Gray gave Carela a flat look, clearly asking for an explanation.
"Uh… this is my cat, Kuro,"
Carela said with an awkward smile.
"Well… I guess you already know, since… well, you are me. And as you can probably guess, Kuro's super sensitive to sound."
Gray closed her eyes for a moment, as if accessing an old memory. Then she calmly set Add back on the table and resumed watching TV.
Meanwhile, Kuro curled up on Carela's shoulder, purring softly in contentment.
For a moment, silence once again enveloped the room. But this time, it felt warmer—and comforting.
"Ah! Right, I haven't resumed the simulation yet! Well… even though it's already late. One or two more hours won't hurt, right?"
Quickly and carefully—so Kuro wouldn't fall—Carela walked to the sofa and sat beside Gray. As soon as she sat, she commanded the system to begin the simulation.
The system's holographic screen reappeared, and now a video started playing.
[As you open the door, a cloud of dust bursts out, making you cough immediately]
[The interior is exactly what one would expect from a cheap apartment. Size-wise, it's nothing remarkable, but it seems to ignore spatial limitations altogether—items are scattered randomly everywhere]
[With no sense of order, everything from countless books, an antique-looking desk, moldy pieces of bread, and, for some reason, multiple old family gaming consoles are crammed into the narrow space]
[You carefully step over the pieces of bread and scattered books on the floor—while wondering how Reines and her maid managed to even pass through this place]
[You head toward the large table in the center of the room, near the sofa where your master is lying]
["Excuse me, Master."]
[...No response.]
[Lying on the sofa as if unconscious, their closed eyelids signal a refusal to acknowledge reality]
["It's your student, Gray."]
[Just to be sure, you speak again, but as expected, there's no response]
[Giving up, you shift your attention to the table. Amid the mess, one small space seems to have been cleared]
[There sits a cup of warm tea, beside a handful of photographs. Your interest is piqued as you look at them—one photo in particular catches your attention]
[It looks… too strange.]
[It appears to be part of some sort of religious painting. The image, which depicts a heavenly scene, is filled with sacredness and simplicity]
[But the focal point of the painting seems out of place—a burning wheel]
[Floating majestically in the sky, it resembles a guardian of heaven, its outer rim filled with eyes, all of them seemingly staring directly at you]
["An angel," your older brother once told you. Looking at the photo brings back memories of your past with your brother]
"...Brother."
When Carela muttered those words, Gray, sitting beside her, briefly glanced at her before returning his gaze to the TV.
Carela stared at the screen with a complicated expression, but said nothing more, silently continuing to watch.
[As you gaze at the image, filled with interest and memories, a weary voice calls out to you.]
["Ah, Master."]
[As if burdened, your master raises his upper body from the sofa, scratching his head. Judging by his appearance, he seems to be around thirty]
[You wonder how he manages to keep his long hair with his lifestyle]
[Suddenly, your master taps the photo on the table]
["Do you know what this is?"]
[Caught off guard, you're unsure how to respond. You decide to shake your head—not because you don't know, but because you're not sure how to explain it]
["This is one of the Laws of Angels."]
["An angel… How is that even supposed to be an angel?"]
[You ask, even though your older brother already told you that the image that looks like that is an angel, you don't understand why it's considered an angel]
["The image of angels resembling humans with wings has become quite popular, but it's mostly influenced by the image of the Greek goddess of victory, Nike, from the 4th-century mythology."]
["In truth, angels can be categorized into several lineages. In this case, it might be better to start with a general explanation of what angels actually are."]
[Stroking his chin, your master continues speaking in a muttering tone]
["The first kind are living beings that transcend mythology and have been reclassified as angels. The second kind are beings born from the authority of a former master, becoming angels as they gain independence."]
["There are many theories, but the Throne Angel you see here may be closer to the first hypothesis. Taking its master's power into itself, its sole purpose is to carry it."]
["So it's a wheel, because it's meant to carry that power?"]
["The current interpretation is the opposite. It seems that this angel was used to carry power because it was in the form of a wheel. Look at the Bible."]
["In the writings of the prophet Ezekiel, there's a description of 'its eyes fascinated by the face of the wheel, shining like beryl.' To digress a bit, there are even theories that claim this is what people saw when they say they saw UFOs."]
["...Does that mean angels are UFOs??"]
[The sudden turn in conversation makes you blink in confusion. Seeing this, your master bursts out laughing]
[Judging by how suddenly his mood improved, it seems we've found a topic that amuses him]
["There was a group in the 20th century that called anything and everything a UFO, I suppose. Everything from the baptism of Christ to the frescoes of Egypt were all, 'without a doubt,' caused by UFOs."]
["There's no deep meaning behind it, but wheels soaring through the sky do seem to spark imagination. For starters, many of those reports came from hippies who were already so high their minds were floating... What's with that look?"]
["Oh, I was just thinking, there must be a lot of people like Master in the world, huh?"]
["Don't lump me in with people like that. Occasionally some over-the-top reasoning is necessary, but magecraft cannot be built just by compiling a bunch of subjective personal theories."]
["In any case, that's not a problem exclusive to magus—it's a matter of basic education."]
["...I understand the story about Angels. ...On another topic, have you no intention of living in the big house with Reines?"]
["You think I could survive living with that devil? My stomach would be ruined in three days. It already feels ruined now..."]
[Lying back down on the sofa and rubbing his stomach, your master puts on a sour expression. After a while, he sighs]
["Anyway, I said I'd accept the request, so I need to at least take the minimum steps."]
["I see."]
[Since you don't really know the details of their conversation, you can't do much besides giving a vague, agreeable reply]
[As if remembering something, your master shuts one eye and hums softly]
["By the way, what's your opinion on Angels?"]
["An angel... they're messengers of God, right?"]
["I'm not asking in general. I mean, what do you think of them in the context of Magecraft?"]
["Eheheheheheh! Even if you ask her like that, she won't get it! She's such a dummy, after all!"]
[Suddenly, a cheerful voice rang out]
[Naturally, the only people in the room were your master and yourself. So, this must have been a third, formless person's voice]
[Both your master and you knew the true identity of the voice's owner, so it wasn't all that surprising]
[Instead, knowing that engaging with them would be a waste of time, we both ignored it as best we could and continued the explanation]
["...Though to be honest, I'm not that smart."]
[Actually, you're not that stupid, but you're not that smart either. You're just average after all]
["That's not the issue. Even aside from the fact that you're my student, I wouldn't just sit by and let someone insult one of my own right in front of me. Remember that."]
[The sound of something being slammed shut could be heard]
[Perhaps due to the sudden change in tone from the earlier conversation, the third voice suddenly fell silent]
[After that, your master reached toward the table. Taking a cigar from his metal cigar case, he used a knife to cut off a small portion from the mouthpiece]
[Lighting a match, he ignited the cigar and took a long drag. Then, he clasped his hands together in his lap]
["Well then, let's begin a new lecture."]