Chapter 392
This internal chaos continued without pause, adding yet another layer of dissonance to the symphony of disorder already raging inside Ilux's mind.
It felt like an alarm blaring endlessly inside an empty room, yet there was no smoke, no fire, no thief—only the deafening siren that confused every sense.
Xavier's meaningless rambling was more exhausting than any physical battle.
At least when facing Hashri, the enemy had been clear.
Now, his enemy was the fog of fear from his own ally, from the very part of himself that was supposed to guide him.
"Xavier, enough. Calm down first.
I need you to be silent for a moment. My head isn't ready to hear directionless chatter."
"I was just—"
"Quiet."
Fooooh!!
"Wait… do you see that?"
"There's something that feels… familiar."
The pounding in his head, as though struck by a sledgehammer, finally reached the limit of his patience.
Mentally, with a push of nearly desperate will, Ilux sent a firm command into his own consciousness—an instruction for Xavier's restless soul to stop speaking.
He pleaded, or rather commanded, that all those voices fall silent for a moment.
Those ten glasses of alcohol were not a solution but a poison slowing the processor of his thoughts, and he needed silence—no matter how bitter—just to steady his breathing and stand upright.
Xavier's shapeless complaints about some unknown threat were no longer a mere disturbance but a mental torment that worsened every throb in his temples.
A returning tremor was felt—a surge of intent from Xavier who was about to respond, perhaps to defend himself or explain.
Yet before a single word could fully form within the space of their shared mind, Ilux cut it off decisively.
Silence.
That was the only message, sharp and uncompromising.
The need for quiet at this moment outweighed any explanation or apology.
His concentration, eroded by alcohol and inner turmoil, was forced to gather again like scattered soldiers struggling to reform their ranks.
And in that effort to focus, his eyes—previously staring blankly down the corridor—suddenly narrowed, sharpening their gaze.
His vision pierced through the tall corridor window, drifting toward the view outside.
Amid the stone-paved paths and lush trees that were the pride of Star Academy, beneath the dim moonlight and golden streetlamps, a young man and woman could be seen walking together.
Distance and faint lighting obscured the details of their faces, yet their silhouettes, the closeness of their steps, and the relaxed yet intimate gestures of their bodies were clearly captured by his trained senses.
'No wonder it feels familiar.'
The sight remained fixed within Ilux's narrowed gaze, like a living painting displayed beyond the cold corridor glass.
The two silhouettes now had clearer names and forms.
Theo and Aldraya.
Their movements were no longer vague shadows but a series of small, intimate rituals filled with meaning.
Ilux observed—with an unnatural focus for any ordinary onlooker—how Aldraya, walking steadily on the left, firmly held Theo's left hand.
Not a hesitant or elaborate grasp, but one that had found its rightful place—a silent claim over presence and support.
Her white-haired head, like fallen moonlight, rested calmly upon Theo's left shoulder, forming a perfectly united silhouette beneath the streetlights.
Meanwhile, Theo accepted everything with what appeared to be natural calmness.
His right hand clasped Aldraya's in return, forming a small, closed circle of unity.
He allowed—even seemed to welcome—the light weight of her head resting upon his shoulder.
Approximately every twenty seconds, a repeated motion occurred.
Theo's right hand—or perhaps his free arm—moved slowly.
He would lift his hand and gently lower his palm onto the top of Aldraya's head, stroking her long white hair like silk.
The gesture was neither dramatic nor passionate, but soothing, assured, protective.
A motion that said, "I'm here," without needing a sound.
Each stroke seemed to send a wave of tangible quiet—even to where Ilux stood.
He was witnessing an organic intimacy, a body language shared only by two people who had found harbor in one another.
There was no tension, no calculation, no masks to wear.
Only two people walking slowly, sharing warmth in the cool night air, and a repeated touch reminding each other of their presence.
The scene was simple, yet for Ilux—trained to read threats and strategies—the clarity of emotion radiating from it felt profoundly complex and foreign.
'How far has their relationship truly gone?'
Hearing the rumors was one thing.
They had been mere words drifting through corridors, whispers caught behind textbooks, or meaningful smiles glimpsed from the corner of his eye.
They were raw data—abstract and easily categorized as part of the Academy's social background noise.
But witnessing it with his own eyes was an entirely different reality.
The data now had shape, breath, and warmth.
It was no longer simply "Theo and Aldraya are rumored to be close," but a tangible display of closeness so deep, so calm, and so confident that they felt no need to hide it from the world—or perhaps did not even realize the world could observe them.
This visual reality pierced through the layers of apathy and turmoil in Ilux's mind, igniting a cold, analytical curiosity.
His curiosity was not born of admiration or romantic longing, but rather like that of a researcher confronted with a rare specimen.
He felt compelled to measure it, to understand the parameters of this "unusual closeness" that had been gossiped about.
How far did its boundaries extend?
Was this merely an exploratory phase between two gifted individuals, or had it become something firmer—some unspoken pact that transcended friendship?
Those small gestures—the unbroken handholding, the natural resting of her head, the consistent rhythm of his strokes—were all variables in an equation he unconsciously wished to solve.
'We agreed—without words.'
That new knowledge struck like lightning in a silent night.
The information that the white-haired girl resting gently on Theo's shoulder was not merely Aldraya, a student of Star Academy, but Aldraya Kansh Que—the Highest Angel who once fought beside Xavier XVII against the fragments of the Almighty Quil-Hasa—changed everything.
The observation that had once stemmed from simple curiosity was now infused with a deeply personal historical dimension for Xavier's soul dwelling within him.
The curiosity no longer belonged to Ilux alone.
It became a shared tremor, an unspoken agreement between two usually clashing consciousnesses.
The King and his reincarnation, for a brief moment, were united in a single purpose.
To uncover the true nature of the bond between the heir of the new era and the figure from the distant glory of his past.
The decision was made swiftly, driven by an ingrained instinct for surveillance shared by both Ilux and Xavier's legacy within him.
Without hesitation, Ilux's athletic body moved, leaving the cold corridor wall behind.
To be continued…