"And so, we arrive at the inescapable conclusion," Legnus Cross, though most knew him simply as Leo, declared, his voice a low, resonant baritone that filled the vast lecture hall with ease. The hall itself was a cathedral of modern intellect, every surface gleaming under soft white lights, a sleek synthesis of polished chrome, dark sound-absorbing panels, and translucent, shimmering digital displays. The air carried the faint hum of temperature control and energy circuits, subtle reminders that this space was a temple of the Awakened, designed as much to impress as to educate.
Rows of ergonomically sculpted seats rose in steep tiers, packed with students whose reactions varied widely. Some leaned forward, eyes bright, notebooks open in manicured scripts, the sort of engagement born of genuine curiosity. Others lounged with the entitled ease of the Awakened elite, legs crossed, heads resting in palms, their minds already drifting toward future exploits or casual conquests. At the room's center, a massive, translucent digital whiteboard glowed with the shifting forms of quantum probability diagrams and mystical sigils, a complex web only Leo could interpret fully.
Leo's prosthetic right hand, a marvel of matte black alloy accented with soft silver joints, moved across the surface with hypnotic precision. Servos whispered as delicate fingers drew lines that shimmered briefly, then solidified into forms that seemed to pulse with energy. The diagrams were not mere abstract representations; they were equations of reality itself, a hybrid of physics and magic, tracing invisible forces that the Awakened often assumed were their exclusive domain.
He was only twenty-two, yet carried the presence of a seasoned scholar. Lean, with sharply defined features, he bore the weight of intellect in his posture and gaze. His dark hair, intentionally untamed, framed gray-blue eyes that seemed almost unnatural in their ability to perceive patterns, contradictions, and subtle truths all at once. Every glance, even brief, suggested the mind behind it was constantly dissecting the world. He had graduated university at sixteen, gained a research position at eighteen, and now lectured on subjects that often left even veteran scholars trembling with doubt or envy. Despite his brilliance, Leo had no innate magical talent, a fact that made him both admired and resented among students raised in a society where powers determined status.
"Energy does not simply appear without cause," Leo said, tapping a point on the glowing diagrams. The lines rippled, pulsing faintly as though alive, a visual echo of his command over abstract forces. "Its origins, like the very foundation of the Awakened world, must obey immutable principles. Principles that may remain stubbornly beyond our current comprehension, yet exist nonetheless."
He paused, scanning the young faces before him. Some stared with awe, some with skepticism, others with quiet rebellion. His eyes lingered, calculating, observing, dissecting, as though each student were a puzzle he intended to solve before the hour was out.
"For a century now," he continued, a trace of dry humor curling the edges of his tone, "our world has been… irrevocably changed. One hundred years since the First Veil Break, when the sky tore itself open in a seven-day aurora, visible even at midday, and certain humans discovered abilities that defied every law we had held sacred. Some could summon fire, bend water, accelerate themselves, heal with a touch. And others could do nothing at all but watch."
The digital board behind him shifted into a timeline, tracing the chaotic decades that followed: the Age of Panic, the Arcane Wars, the Great Partition, and finally, the era labeled the Illusion of Stability. Each epoch flickered with holographic images of devastation, scientific diagrams, and political maps, silently reinforcing the story Leo narrated.
"The result," Leo said, letting the weight of his words sink in, "is not alien invasions, not monsters, not apocalypses in the classical sense. No, we simply gained… new humans. Humans with power beyond imagination. And society, ever adaptable, formed structures like the Arcane Bureau, schools segregated between Awakened and Standard Programs, and a hierarchy where those born with gifts command the world."
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that still echoed across the tiered seats. "People believe they understand magic. They believe it is tamed, predictable, fully integrated. That belief is convenient. That belief is wrong." His eyes swept the room, gray-blue orbs catching the faint light of the digital board, sharp and unyielding. "What if this… is only the opening act?"
A snort interrupted the tension. A cocky blond-haired student in the front row, Ethan Vale, shifted in his chair. He wore designer clothing that caught the light, his posture one of practiced superiority. His perfectly styled hair seemed impervious to the air conditioning, and his smile carried the arrogance of someone whose family name guaranteed influence. Ethan's telekinesis, low-tier by any rigorous measure, gave him the illusion of mastery.
"Professor Cross," he said, voice smooth with condescension, "with all due respect, how can you lecture on the nature of magic when you cannot even conjure a spark? You are unqualified."
Leo's gray-blue gaze sharpened. He did not rise to the bait, but he did let a flicker of steel edge his tone. "Mr. Vale," he said softly, almost a whisper yet resonant enough for every ear to catch, "did I not review your thesis last semester? Seven instances of circular reasoning, multiple violations of the Manastructure Decay theorem, all while proclaiming your mastery over elemental manipulation?"
Ethan's smug expression faltered. His posture, once lazy, now carried tension, his jaw tightening
"Your argument, Mr. Vale, is a testament to overconfidence and underpreparedness. You believe innate talent surpasses intellect. Yet your powers, modest and unrefined, do not compensate for a failure of reasoning. Magic is a tool. Understanding is mastery."
The room was silent, the students' attention absolute. Some smirked, others stifled murmurs of approval. Ethan's cheeks burned red, and for a moment, the hall vibrated with the thrill of confrontation, a rare victory of intellect over privilege.
Leo tapped his prosthetic against the black screen now replacing the diagrams, the servos whispering in the quiet. "You may bend fire, or freeze water. I, however, bend the very truths that govern reality. One day, Mr. Vale, we will see which endures longer."
The words hung in the air, a challenge, a promise, a warning. And as the lecture hall buzzed with the weight of what had just transpired, it was clear to every Awakened and non-Awakened alike that Legnus Cross was no ordinary scholar. He was a force, precise and unyielding, a man whose intellect might outlast any magic the world could muster.
"Alright, students that is all for today, please work on your practicles, I am not afraid to give zero's" Leo said as the bell rang and he packed up the sheets of papers on his desk and left the classroom