I slipped back into my room just as the sun had risen. I hadn't slept a wink.
Honestly, with what I know now, I'm not sure I'll ever sleep soundly again.
First, I've been dropped into a scenario where misfortune is inevitable. Sooner or later, Jacqueline will kill me.
And even with this cursed power—Immortality—I won't truly die. Instead, I'll face something far worse.
That something is called Nightmare.
A supercosmic entity born from a time anomaly, the result of Leon's constant regressions.
It's not like this is new—it's shown up in previous loops—but Leon almost always failed to defeat it. The reason he came close to 'giving up' was because his failures had piled up to thirty-eight in a row.
Sure, there was one time he actually succeeded. But that was after he'd gained full control over his checkpoints—when he chose to reset far earlier, all the way back to when he first entered the Academy. Which, in this loop, would've been… about three months ago.
There's a rare item hidden in the Secret Library that makes that possible. Technically, I could try doing the same.
But there's a reason it's called rare.
First, supply is limited. Second, it… 'expires' fast. At best, it lasts ten days. And even after obtaining that item, I'd have to track down another item, somewhere far away, just to keep it active long enough until Nightmare appears.
So step one in fixing this mess: find Leon.
In this loop, Havel should be smart enough not to tick him off, so we might actually get along.
Or… maybe not.
"Where were you all night?"
The moment I opened the door, that soft voice filled the air again. The black-haired girl was already in her Academy uniform—white long-sleeves shirt, short polka-dot skirt, and a neat ponytail.
Of course. What was I expecting, when the person—most likely—Leon's twin sister, had already been… tainted by Havel—by me.
"Hanging out with friends," I said, tossing out the first excuse that came to mind.
"Friends?"
…Really? That's the part she's hung up on?
"Don't you remember we've got a joint Sacred Beast Summoning Practice today?"
Oh. Right. Damn it.
The Academy and its endless schedule. The looming cosmic threat had nearly made me forget that I was now inhabiting a student's body. A magic academy student, no less.
"I… do."
She rested her hands on her hips and tilted her head, said in silent, 'I know you're lying, and you're bad at it.'
But instead of pressing, she picked up a tote bag from the desk beside the bed and headed for the door.
"Aren't you going to get ready? Class starts in an hour. Don't be late again, okay?"
She punctuated the last line by pointing right at my face. Her violet eyes glinted with a determination that brooked no argument.
"Yeah, okay. I won't be late. Promise."
And she smiled.
Damn. That smile. Call me soft or hopeless, but honestly—it was more intoxicating than anything an actress online could fake.
"See you in class." She paused mid-step, as though remembering something. She turned, rose on her toes, and…
…kissed my cheek. Warm, soft, affectionate.
She pulled back with a small giggle, cheeks faintly flushed. "See you."
Her light footsteps faded away, leaving me frozen in place. Like I'd been hit by a million volts, every muscle locked, my body refusing to move even a millimeter.
"What the hell…"
***
The Academy was big—or so I used to describe it when I wrote this damned story.
I hadn't expected it to be this big.
Imagine a football stadium that seats thirty thousand, with a wide-open field in the center. Now triple it. That's the Academy. Built on its own island, connected to the Capital—basically a small city packed with people aged eighteen to twenty-two.
Each year has up to eight different classes.
So when that girl said there'd be a joint practical exam, that meant the main field would be crowded.
No fewer than four hundred people. Naturally, formal speeches and boring lectures wouldn't cut it, not in this noise.
So the Academy had… let's say, creative methods.
"I told you, Selena's mine."
As the students lined up by class, filling the field with noisy chatter, one shrill voice cut through.
Several rows—including mine—fell silent.
Two guys from Class 2-B were in a heated argument.
"Geovrey, this isn't some sweet dream of yours. You think a loser like you deserves to stand next to her?" sneered a boy with dyed green hair.
The insulted one lunged forward. "What did you say—"
"Hey!" Another boy stepped between them. Taller, though slimmer in build. "You're embarrassing our class in front of—"
The green-haired boy touched him, and—
CRACK!
FWOOSH!
The tall boy burst into flames. No magic circle, no trick—he just… burned.
"Aaaaaah!"
Screams rang out as he writhed on the ground. The sickening hiss of burning flesh filled the air, freezing everyone in horrified silence.
A suffocating stillness.
"I have seen enough."
The voice came from above. Not a student, but a stocky, slightly hunched man with a thick mustache.
Floating. A faint magic circle shimmered beneath his feet.
The green-haired boy's face drained of color. "Professor, I—this isn't what it looks like! They… they're the one who started it!"
But the professor's gaze was sharp and unyielding. "That is what sinners always say. You don't even try to take responsibility, and now…
"…you will face the consequences."
He raised his hand.
Enormous greenish magic circles bloomed in the sky. Golden light, brighter than the sun, beamed down—illuminating us, and the three locked in conflict.
The green-haired boy choked. Blood spilled from his mouth.
"Ghhk…" He collapsed to his knees. His skin paled before he fell face-first.
Then something moved… pushing its way out of his mouth.
A black cat. Eyes gleaming as it scanned the crowd, meowing loudly before slinking toward the nearest students.
Then it spoke. "Evil is natural."
A few people flinched.
"It comes with good, with the soul itself. But it is not to be hated—it is to be understood. As a spiritual trial. As something you must control… as a part of yourself."
"Then… how?" Geovrey finally spoke, voice tense. "How do we control it? How do we truly understand ourselves?"
The cat didn't look at him. It made sure to meet every gaze, one by one.
Then, with an unsettling smile: "With your own will."
Mist rolled in, thick and cold, as a flock of crows exploded into the air. Those nearby stumbled back in shock.
When the crows scattered, a tall figure stood in black. Slim build. Fedora low over his face.
He tipped his hat, revealing his face.
The tall boy. The one who'd tried to stop the fight.
The one who should have been lying there, burned.
When we looked back to where the body should've been—nothing but scorched clothes, rumpled, with a strange bulge beneath them. The bulge shifted, crawling out from the shirt collar.
The same black cat. The one that had spoken. But now… silent.
"Remember this," the tall man said, cradling the cat gently. "Sacred Beast Summoning isn't just about calling something from another dimension. It's a mindful process. You are giving form to the deepest desire in your soul. You are giving shape to your greatest longing."
He stroked the cat's fur.
"…and whether that form become good… or evil, is up to you."