Chapter 22: Start of Act 2

START OF VOLUME 2 | ACT 2 |

Sylas shut the door to his dorm with a quiet click, exhaling as he leaned against the frame. Today had been… eventful. The masked lunatics, the faceless king, and his own growing understanding of his abilities—it all stacked up into one inescapable realization.

His will had accelerated his growth. He was changing, evolving, but not in a way that made him omnipotent. No, he was still bound by the rules of the world. While he could shape the Veil of Reverie, he did not transcend it.

It was a sobering thought. If anything, it meant there were still things above him—things that could reach down and swat him like an insect. And he didn't like the idea of being an insect.

Before he could spiral too far into this line of thinking, a familiar presence materialized in the room.

"Damn, kid, you look like you just finished a mid-life crisis. Again."

Sylas didn't even flinch. He just turned his head slightly and stared at Lucius, who had just made himself comfortable on Sylas's bed—as if he owned the place.

"Can you not?" Sylas asked, deadpan.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Not what?"

"Be in my room."

Lucius grinned, making no effort to move. "Oh, you mean this room? The one currently existing within a plane of reality I have full access to? The one that, by all accounts, I could rearrange into a carnival funhouse if I really wanted?" He snapped his fingers, and for a brief moment, Sylas felt the very essence of the room shift—the walls flickered into bright circus stripes, his desk transformed into a cotton candy stand, and his chair became a carousel horse.

Sylas blinked once. Then twice.

Lucius smirked. "See? Your room. My playground."

With a sigh, Sylas pinched the bridge of his nose. "Put it back before I start breaking things."

Lucius clapped his hands together, and everything reverted back to normal. "Such anger, Professor Corvus. It's almost like you don't enjoy my company."

Sylas sat down on his chair, rubbing his temples. "Enjoy is a strong word. Tolerate is more accurate."

Lucius let out a mock gasp. "And here I thought we were bonding!"

Sylas shot him a flat look. "You appear uninvited, cause chaos, and then act surprised when I'm not thrilled about it."

Lucius stretched out on the bed, looking entirely at ease. "Sounds like the foundation of every great friendship."

Sylas scoffed. "If that's the case, I should start charging you rent for emotional damage."

Lucius chuckled. "You wound me, kid." Then, after a pause, he grinned wider. "So, what's next on the agenda for our young philosopher? More existential dread? Maybe a deep dive into the futility of free will?"

Sylas narrowed his eyes. "That depends. Are you going to make everything ten times more irritating?"

Lucius placed a hand over his heart in mock sincerity. "Me? Irritating? Perish the thought."

Sylas sighed, already regretting every choice that had led to this moment.

I walked through the academy mall, my hands stuffed into my pockets, eyes scanning the storefronts with casual indifference. The place was lively, filled with students and faculty making the most of their free time, chatting, shopping, or just loitering around. The energy here was different from the classrooms—lighter, less rigid. But I wasn't here to soak up the atmosphere.

I was here to buy a pocket knife.

And gloves.

In case I needed to drag a dead body.

Not that I planned on dragging a dead body anytime soon. But it was always good to be prepared. A lesson I'd learned the hard way.

Unfortunately, I wasn't alone.

Not in the normal sense.

Lucius was here.

Now, to be fair, Lucius was always here. He was omnipresent, which meant he existed literally everywhere at once. Right now, he was both standing beside me and standing in a thousand different realities, watching every version of this moment play out. He knew what I was about to do before I even thought of doing it, because he didn't just exist in the present—he transcended time itself. Past, present, future—it was all just an open book to him.

And he never let me forget it.

"You know," Lucius mused, his voice laced with amusement, "most people go to the mall to buy, I don't know, snacks? Clothes? Maybe a book? Not murder accessories."

I didn't look at him. "It's called being prepared."

Lucius let out a low chuckle, walking beside me like we were just two regular people on a normal shopping trip. "Ah, yes. Prepared. Because nothing screams 'well-adjusted citizen' like casually buying a knife and gloves."

I exhaled slowly, keeping my expression blank.

To anyone watching, I was just walking alone. Talking to no one. And that was the real problem with Lucius—he wasn't physically visible to everyone. I could see him. I could hear him. But if anyone else glanced my way, all they'd see was me having a very intense conversation with thin air.

Which was not a good look.

The academy mall had enough rumors floating around already. I didn't need to add talks to himself in public to the list.

Lucius, of course, knew this.

And he found it hilarious.

"Tell me," he continued, his voice dripping with faux curiosity, "are you going for the 'mysterious and brooding killer' aesthetic? Because if so, might I suggest a trench coat? Maybe a dramatic hat? Really lean into the whole I have secrets and a troubled past vibe."

I ignored him, turning into the weapons shop.

Yes, the academy had a weapons shop.

It wasn't that strange—students trained in combat, some professors carried weapons, and there were plenty of disciplines that required access to high-quality armaments. But in my case, this visit was strictly practical.

Lucius followed me in, hands casually tucked into his coat pockets. "You are going to look so suspicious," he whispered gleefully. "Buying a knife and gloves? Oh, I cannot wait for someone to start asking questions."

I picked up a pocket knife from the display case. Sleek, sharp, efficient. Black handle, no unnecessary embellishments. Functional.

The shopkeeper, an older man with an eyepatch—because apparently, all weapon shop owners were required by law to have an eyepatch—eyed me with mild curiosity.

"You looking for something specific?"

I placed the knife on the counter. "This'll do."

He nodded, not bothering to ask any further questions.

Lucius, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Oh, this is so good," he murmured. "Mysterious young professor buys a pocket knife in broad daylight. Can't wait for this to end up as some wild conspiracy theory."

I grabbed the gloves next, setting them down beside the knife.

Lucius gasped. "Oh no. Gloves too? Sylas, this is textbook serial killer behavior—should I be worried?"

I turned my head slightly, my voice flat. "Lucius."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

He grinned.

I paid for my items, ignoring the burning urge to punch Lucius in the face—not that it would do anything. He existed beyond the constraints of physicality. If I swung at him, my fist would probably just phase through his stupid, smug existence.

As I walked out of the shop, he followed, effortlessly keeping pace.

"You know," he mused, tilting his head, "you can try all you want, but you can't hide me from your students forever. I will show up in the middle of one of your lectures one day. Maybe in the middle of your next 'philosophical discussion.' Oh! Or better yet, right as you're trying to be all dramatic and intimidating—"

"Lucius."

"Yes?"

I didn't respond. I just kept walking, shoving the knife and gloves into my bag.

Lucius sighed dramatically. "You really need to work on your social skills, Sylas. Maybe buy a friendship bracelet while we're here. Something to remind you that human interaction isn't just about stabbing people."

I was going to stab him.

Except I couldn't.

Because, once again, he was omnipresent.

Which meant I was stuck with him.

Forever.

I walked through the mall, my bag now heavier with the weight of my new purchases. A pocket knife. Gloves. Practical tools. Not suspicious at all.

Lucius, of course, wouldn't let it go.

"Alright," he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. "So what's next? Duct tape? A shovel? Maybe a bottle of bleach for that extra 'I totally didn't just commit a crime' aesthetic?"

I ignored him, adjusting the strap of my bag as I weaved through the crowd. The academy mall was surprisingly large, filled with all kinds of shops—some catered to students, others to professors or visiting scholars. Despite its lively atmosphere, I had little interest in lingering.

Lucius, however, had no such reservations.

"You do realize how funny this is, right?" he continued, still matching my pace effortlessly. "I mean, I could literally erase all threats to you with a snap of my fingers, but nooo, you prefer to prepare like some mortal detective in a crime novel. I admire the commitment to the bit, really."

I exhaled slowly, keeping my expression neutral. "For someone who exists beyond time, you sure waste a lot of it."

"Ah, but Sylas," he smirked, "I have infinite time. I can afford to waste as much as I like. Unlike you, who—last I checked—still operates under human constraints. Well, mostly."

I shot him a sidelong glance. "Mostly?"

Lucius grinned. "Mostly."

I hated that answer.

Not because it was wrong—because it wasn't.

There were things about myself I hadn't fully figured out yet. I felt human, but I knew there were aspects of my existence that didn't fit neatly into that category. The Veil of Reverie, my will, the things I could control and the things I couldn't—they all hinted at something beyond ordinary human limitations.

But I wasn't about to have that discussion in the middle of a crowded mall.

Instead, I focused on finding a quiet place to sit.

Eventually, I found an empty bench near a fountain, a good enough spot to sit and gather my thoughts. The sound of water cascading drowned out some of the background noise, giving me a moment of peace. I leaned back, staring up at the high ceilings of the mall.

Lucius, ever the gracious companion, plopped down beside me.

"Let me guess," he mused. "You're contemplating existence itself again. Thinking about your place in the universe. Wondering if you're truly human or something more—"

"Lucius."

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

Lucius chuckled. "Rude. But alright, I'll give you thirty seconds of silence."

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly.

Finally. Peace.

One second. Two seconds. Three—

"By the way," Lucius suddenly spoke again, "you do know your students are around here somewhere, right?"

I opened my eyes, immediately scanning the area.

Sure enough, in the distance, I spotted a familiar group—some of my students, wandering through the shops, completely unaware of my presence.

Damn it.

I wasn't avoiding them, exactly, but I also wasn't in the mood for unnecessary interaction.

Lucius, however, was thrilled.

"Oh this is interesting," he mused, leaning back casually. "What if they saw you right now? Alone, brooding, mysteriously clutching a bag full of weapons-grade purchases—imagine the rumors. Professor Corvus, seen buying suspicious items, disappears into the shadows."

I rubbed my temples. "Lucius—"

"Ooh, even better! What if I just appeared right now? What if I just casually walked up to them, waved, and said, 'Oh hey, did you know your professor talks to an omnipotent being in his free time?'"

I glared at him. "Don't you dare."

Lucius grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, I won't actually do it. But the possibility is fun to think about, isn't it?"

No. No, it wasn't.

I needed to leave.

I stood up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "We're leaving."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And where exactly are we going?"

"Somewhere less annoying."

"Good luck with that. I'm omnipresent. I'll be everywhere you go."

I sighed. "Of course you will."

Lucius smirked. "Of course I will."

And with that, I walked off, Lucius right beside me, knowing full well that no matter where I went, I would never escape him.

I walked briskly through the crowded corridors of the academy mall, my mind preoccupied with a thousand thoughts. The whole place felt oddly suffocating—too many people, too much noise, and too many distractions. I needed to clear my head, and the last thing I needed was my students noticing me in such a strange state.

But of course, life had other plans.

As I rounded a corner, I spotted a group of students approaching from the opposite direction. My heart sank.

They were students from my class. I recognized their faces instantly, even though I wasn't particularly close to any of them. They were chatting amongst themselves, not noticing me at first. I tried to slow my pace, hoping I could slip past unnoticed. The last thing I wanted was to have one of those awkward, forced conversations with them.

I glanced to the side, debating whether I should pretend to be interested in one of the shops. But it was too late. They spotted me.

"Oh, Professor Corvus!" one of them called out, waving enthusiastically. I wasn't sure which one had spoken—too many students looked alike to me—but I didn't need to know. They all came to a sudden stop, now all staring at me, probably wondering what I was doing here.

I forced a smile, trying to make my expression as neutral as possible. "Hello," I said, my voice deliberately calm. "Out on a break?"

One of the students nodded. "Yeah, just grabbing some lunch. What about you, Professor? Getting something for class?"

I felt the weight of the question like an anchor. If I said the truth—that I was just getting some tools for a personal project—they'd probably ask what kind of project, and I wasn't in the mood for explaining that.

I settled on a safer option. "Just picking up a few things," I said casually, gesturing to my bag. "Nothing too special."

They didn't seem to question it, thankfully. Of course, why would they? It wasn't unusual for a professor to get supplies, right?

I hoped I wasn't acting too weird. After all, if anyone knew me well enough, they'd catch on that I wasn't exactly "normal."

"Nice bag, Professor," another student remarked, glancing at the bag slung over my shoulder. "You look like you're in a hurry. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just fine." I smiled again, hoping it didn't look forced.

I could feel Lucius, of course, right beside me, as always. He'd been remarkably silent up until now, but I knew that was only because he found my discomfort amusing.

"Relax," Lucius whispered, though his voice only seemed to reverberate in my own mind. "You're a teacher, not a criminal. Stop acting like you're in a spy movie."

I ignored him, refusing to let him get into my head.

The students were still looking at me with that same puzzled expression, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to solve.

I shifted my weight slightly, turning away just a little. I didn't want to give them the impression that I was being evasive, but I needed to be cautious. I could feel my heart rate pick up, the tension in my body building.

One of the students, a girl who had been mostly quiet up until now, asked, "Professor… do you need help with anything? You seem a little… off today."

I forced myself to stay calm. "I'm just a little distracted," I said smoothly. "No need to worry."

"Okay, if you say so," the girl replied, though she didn't seem convinced. The others exchanged glances, but none of them pressed further.

Thank god.

I felt the relief wash over me, but then—of course—Lucius decided to make things even more awkward.

"So," he said, his tone a little too casual, "when are you going to tell them about your 'special projects'? How long can you keep up the 'I'm just a normal professor' routine, hmm?"

I clenched my jaw, trying not to react.

"Lucius," I hissed, my tone low. "Shut up."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt your performance?" Lucius purred in mock innocence. "How about this: I'll just be over here, existing in all places and times, while you try to keep your secrets safe."

I rolled my eyes, but my heart was pounding in my chest. I had to get out of here before I said or did something I'd regret.

"Well, if you don't need anything else, I'll be on my way," I said to the students, offering them another quick smile. "I've got some things to take care of."

They nodded, some of them muttering about how I seemed 'off' today, but none of them seemed particularly suspicious.

I turned on my heel, trying not to seem rushed, but I was already plotting my exit. Lucius, naturally, wasn't making it any easier.

"Ah, so this is how it is, huh?" he teased. "You avoid them like the plague, but you're secretly a softie. You're just one of those mysterious teachers who 'don't want to get too attached' to their students. How tragic."

"Lucius—"

"Ah, no need to explain. I get it. You're all about the 'cool' facade, right? No emotional connections. All business. You're like a character straight out of one of those anime shows, aren't you?"

I felt my face flush. "I'm not that dramatic."

Lucius laughed. "You're definitely that dramatic, and I'm definitely going to tell everyone."

"Lucius, no."

"Oh, but I already did. You did see all those students back there, didn't you? I bet one of them is already writing a fanfiction about you. I'll be sure to check in on it later."

I shot him a glare, but he was right—there was no point in trying to escape him. Lucius had an uncanny way of worming into every conversation, every situation.

But at least the students were still blissfully unaware of his presence, oblivious to the fact that he was everywhere, even when he wasn't physically there.

I'd never understand how he did it—how he existed in every corner of time and space, yet still chose to hang around me like this. But I also knew better than to question it anymore.

I just hoped I could survive another day of his incessant commentary.