Mikhail did not immediately close Scriptura Caelestis after Lumina ended.
The room slowly emptied. Chairs shifted slowly, colorful robes moved like scattered light. The scent of incense faded, replaced by the warm afternoon air.
But Mikhail remained seated.
His palms still held the book, too long for something that should have been finished. The page that had made his heart race now seemed ordinary.
Too ordinary.
He touched the corner of the page with his fingertip. There was no coldness. No pulse. No writing.
I should feel glad, he thought.
But that feeling did not come. What remained was a slight sense of unease, like a sound that had stopped, but its echo still lingered in my head.
I'm not hallucinating, he muttered softly.
He closed the Scriptura carefully. As he stood up, the chair behind him shifted slowly.
"Aren't you going out?
Mikhail turned his head. Rev was standing beside him, one eyebrow raised, his expression half surprised, half concerned.
"Wait a minute," Mikhail replied. "I want to check something."
Rev nodded, not asking any further questions. "Don't take too long. I'll wait for you in the dining room."
He patted Mikhail's shoulder briefly before walking away.
Mikhail waited until the room was completely empty. Silence fell slowly, as if the class was holding its breath.
He sat back down.
His notebook was open. A blank page greeted him. His hand paused in midair, as if weighing whether writing would make everything more real.
Finally, he wrote:
Day 1 after Lumina.
Time: around noon.
Position: third row, near the window.
He paused again. The tip of the pen pressed a little too hard on the paper.
The words appeared in the corner of the Scriptura page.
The sentence felt strange. Too light for something that still made his chest tight.
He added:
It did not appear clearly. It did not shine like the main text. It appeared slowly. It disappeared quickly.
Mikhail closed the book gently.
I feel like I'm going crazy, he muttered.
If he continues writing, he fears he will write things he cannot prove, or worse, things he actually wants to believe.
What if this has something to do with my parents? The thought popped into his head, making his chest tighten.
What if this is the truth I've been looking for? Mikhail took a deep breath.
Calm down. Don't leap to conclusions. If something has changed... I have to make sure of one thing first:
is this a coincidence,
or is there a reason for it?
The warm afternoon blanketed Mikhail's small room. He sat wearing a simple white shirt commonly worn in student dormitories. The orange light of dusk seeped through the window, causing the Scriptura Caelestis on his desk to reflect a faint glow, like a slowly breathing gem.
"God created kings from His own substance... to hold certain authority. The first king was the King of the cosmos..."
Mikhail's finger followed the lines. He read carefully, hoping to find similar contradictions.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
"Come in," he said without looking up.
The door opened. Rev entered with a bright smile. He was wearing a loose, light green shirt, wrinkled as if he had just woken up from an afternoon nap.
"I knew it," he said casually. "You didn't attend the extra training after lunch. I thought something was wrong with you... but you look really good.
Mikhail turned his chair. "What's up?"
"Aren't you curious about Ivan Yugostiv?" Rev smirked.
"The new student from Versvyaz."
Mikhail was silent for a moment. The boy's anxious gaze in class flashed back.
"A little."
"How about we take him around Atrium Lumen? So he feels less isolated.
Mikhail slowly closed Scriptura.
"Interesting. I also… have something I want to ask."
Rev whistled softly. "Alright. Let's go pick him up.
The dormitory corridor was filled with the echoes of other students' footsteps. The evening light stretched across the stone floor, dividing the hallway into lines of light and shadow.
Krekk…
Next to them, a door swung open. Eric stepped out, wearing a neatly tied dark gray cloth. Even without his class robe, his aura remained imposing.
Eric seemed a little bit surprised to see them stop in front of Ivan's room.
"Mikhail...visiting the new student?"
His tone was flat, but his eyes were observant.
"We want to take him around," Rev replied quickly.
"Our goal is the same," Eric said briefly.
"That's my responsibility as class leader.
"It's not just responsibility," Rev replied casually.
"As a friend too, right?"
Eric didn't answer. His gaze lingered on Mikhail, as if trying to read something unspoken.
Mikhail knocked on the door.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
Just before his hand came down, a strange sensation ran through his arm, like a delayed reverberation. It wasn't a sound. It wasn't cold. It was more like the feeling that the knock didn't come entirely from him.
He took a breath, then took half a step back.
Inside the room, Ivan Yugostiv sat curled up on the floor, his arms wrapped around his knees. His face was pale, his breath irregular.
When he heard a knock, his body jerked.
It wasn't because of the sound itself, but because of a strange sensation that suddenly spread through him, like a pulse with no clear direction.
He swallowed hard, then hugged his knees tighter.
The knocking on the door sounded again.
But his heartbeat grew even more chaotic. The world outside the door felt too close. Too real.
Ivan closed his eyes.
He abandoned his intention to open the door.
Outside the room, Mikhail, Rev, and Eric waited.
"Maybe he's still sleeping," Rev finally said.
"Or not ready yet," Eric said quietly.
"Let's hold off for now."
Mikhail stared at the door a few seconds longer than he should have.
There was an unexplainable feeling,
that whatever was behind that door
wasn't just a clueless new student.
Night fell slowly in the Lumen Atrium.
Mikhail lay down, staring at the dark ceiling of the room.
Scriptura Caelestis lay on the table, closed, silent.
But for the first time, he wasn't sure that the book really said nothing.
And for the first time, he felt that whatever was "to come"...
might not come for him alone.