All right.
And nothing left.
Okay—enough with the silly pun.
Now, before we begin, let me tell you something real quick.
Ready?
Right, here we go.
Magic is a sham—nothing more than a heroic fantasy disguised as triumphs.
Crude exclamations: "Oh, it's so cool!" or "Wow, I wanna be like them one day!"
Or the most overused line of them all:
"I will become a hero to change the world!"
All of these are futile.
And still, it made them throw their fists into the air, basking in the warm glow of their own naïve delusions, as if they were the victors and the villains always the losers.
Irrational ideas.
Delusions with shape.
Obsessive fixations.
These dreams will never come true — no matter how hard they try.
Or how long they persevere.
Hey, you.
Yes—you.
The one reading this story.
Let me ask you something:
Ever thought… of becoming a hero?
Or—better yet… a godlike deity?
The kind of power plastered across recruitment posters and propaganda slogans?
No.
Don't.
Trust me.
You don't want to become any of these.
Why?
Well…
It all began with a silly, yet somewhat true story.
Res Ain.
The self-proclaimed Zero.
The past, present, and future.
He staged a ritual for deities meant to protect this world.
But soon… everything changed.
The mirror of reflections shrouded them.
The pulse crystallized into form.
And in the end…
They were taken.
Not slain. Not punished.
Just… gone.
Dissipated into the air.
Funny, isn't it?
You see… every tragedy starts as a silly story.
Gods devour themselves.
Yet humanity calls it progress…
…hoping to become heroes themselves.
…
Alright, enough is enough.
So, after hearing that story... tell me—
Do you still want to become a hero?
…
…
"—Miss Aveline."
The voice cut straight through my well-executed monologue.
I blinked.
White walls.
Rows of desks.
Windows of scenery.
A projection board flickered with strange mythological symbols I shouldn't recognize—jagged and alive somehow—yet my mind processed them instantly.
Familiar, like I had always known them.
I then looked around...
Around thirty students.
Thirty pairs of eyes before me, sharp and piercing.
Theirs were curiosity mingled with a subdued expectation.
My chest tightened, desperate.
Clamoring for release.
"So…"
"Are you planning to answer that question," the instructor continued calmly,
"or instead..."
"Shall we take your silence as a definitive response—or perhaps, its lack thereof?"
I only looked down, staring at anything that worked as distraction.
My hands, now smaller and unfamiliar, were clenching on my knees.
Nope.
Not from trembling—but something vague.
Or rather, for the fact they aren't mine at all.
Oh, wait...
Mirielle Fatui Aveline.
Right.
Once again.
I had been daydreaming.
Again.
Guess I've got to impress them somehow...
Hearing that snappy remark, I stood immediately.
Then, without any hesitation, I put a well-articulated smile in front of him.
One I had never known to possess before.
"Magical incantation. A barrier to form a ritual, isolate and make a pact with monsters."
This line just came out so effortlessly in my head, as if I'd never been daydreaming before. How incredible of me to pull this off.
I'm so proud of you.
Stand proud. You are strong.
"Unbelievable."
The instructor only sighed in disbelief, then continued.
"Alright, class. That's it for today."
"Class dismissed," he announced as the students filed out.
But then...
"Except for Miss Aveline."
Wait... are you serious right now?
Anyway, enough with these jagged lines.
Curious. Do you still want to know how it begins?
Maybe something like a short, mental flashback before we go back again?
Oh, intrigued?
Alright.
Ah shit, here we go again.