The academy archive was colder than Arthur expected.
Not physically.
Socially.
Nobody spoke above a whisper.
Rows of black shelves stretched through the enormous chamber, disappearing beneath vaulted ceilings.
Thousands of crystal-bound records filled them.
Arthur stood at the entrance with Mira beside him.
She had been silent for most of the walk.
Now she pointed toward the central desk.
“Records older than fifty years require instructor authorization.”
Arthur looked at her.
“And records concerning students?”
“Usually restricted.”
“Usually?”
Mira adjusted her glasses.
“Dead students are easier.”
Arthur paused.
“That was an unnecessarily cheerful sentence.”
“I wasn’t trying to be cheerful.”
She walked toward the desk.
A middle-aged archivist looked up.
His eyes moved from Mira to Arthur.
Then stopped.
The man’s expression changed.
“You.”
Arthur sighed.
“Apparently that’s my official greeting.”
The archivist stood.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s becoming a recurring theme.”
Mira placed the disciplinary book on the desk.
“We need records concerning Arthur Vale.”
The archivist stared at her.
“No.”
Mira blinked.
“No?”
“No.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“Is there a reason?”
The archivist’s eyes narrowed.
“Your records are sealed.”
Arthur felt his attention sharpen.
“By whom?”
The archivist hesitated.
“That information is restricted.”
Arthur glanced around the archive.
There were three exits.
Two guards.
One instructor’s office behind the desk.
No visible magical barrier.
He looked back at the archivist.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to ask someone with higher clearance.”
The archivist’s expression hardened.
“You don’t have higher clearance.”
“No.”
Arthur smiled politely.
“But someone who does may be interested in knowing that a student’s memories have apparently been sealed.”
Mira looked at him.
The archivist went completely still.
Arthur noticed.
That was the reaction he’d been waiting for.
“You know about that?”
“I know nothing.”
“Of course.”
Arthur stepped away.
“Thank you for confirming that it’s worth investigating.”
He turned.
The archivist spoke.
“Wait.”
Arthur stopped.
The old man looked toward the guards.
Then lowered his voice.
“Come with me.”
They entered a narrow room behind the archive.
There was only one desk.
One chair.
And a locked metal cabinet.
The archivist took a key from beneath his coat.
Mira watched him carefully.
Arthur said nothing.
The cabinet opened.
Inside were dozens of thin black files.
The archivist removed one.
He placed it on the desk.
VALE, ARTHUR
Arthur stared at his own name.
Seeing it written like that felt strangely uncomfortable.
The archivist opened the file.
The first pages contained ordinary information.
Age.
Bloodline.
Academic ranking.
Mana capacity.
Combat aptitude.
Then came the disciplinary reports.
Arthur read them slowly.
The first incident was minor.
Unauthorized access to restricted training grounds.
The second involved an argument with a senior cadet.
The third involved stolen examination materials.
Arthur frowned.
“Did I actually steal these?”
The archivist looked at him.
“Yes.”
Arthur continued reading.
The fourth report was worse.
ASSAULT OF A NOBLE CADET.
Arthur looked up.
“Who?”
“Darian Vale.”
Arthur stared.
“Vale?”
The archivist nodded.
“Your cousin.”
That was new.
Arthur looked back at the report.
The details were sparse.
Darian had suffered a severe mana-channel injury.
His academy ranking had collapsed.
His family had withdrawn him from active combat training.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“This is the brother.”
The archivist nodded.
“The boy in my room.”
“No.”
Arthur looked at him.
“His brother?”
“Yes.”
Arthur leaned against the desk.
“So the student I met isn’t his brother.”
The archivist shook his head.
“Darian is his brother.”
Arthur looked at the name on the report again.
Darian Vale.
Then he remembered the boy’s words.
You destroyed my brother’s future.
Arthur had assumed the brother was someone else.
Apparently, he had been wrong.
The archivist turned the page.
Arthur’s expression changed.
The report contained one sentence that had been crossed out.
Someone had written over it with black ink.
Arthur held the page closer.
Only a few words remained visible.
…following contact with the sealed chamber…
His pulse quickened.
“What sealed chamber?”
The archivist immediately closed the file.
“That’s enough.”
Arthur’s eyes remained on the book.
“You know.”
“I know what I’m permitted to know.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
The archivist looked at him for a long moment.
Then he said quietly:
“Three months ago, you entered the lower archives.”
Arthur didn’t speak.
“You weren’t alone.”
“Who was with me?”
The archivist shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“You just said I wasn’t alone.”
“I said you weren’t alone.”
“Then somebody knows.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
The old man’s face tightened.
“That is precisely the problem.”
Arthur waited.
The archivist finally continued.
“When you came back, you were injured. Your memories were unstable. Instructor Voss ordered the incident sealed.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“Seraphine?”
“Yes.”
That didn’t fit.
She had warned him about his past.
Now she was also the person who had sealed the records.
Arthur looked down.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Arthur believed him.
Mostly.
He turned another page.
A final note had been attached.
SUBJECT REQUIRES OBSERVATION.
Underneath:
Do not allow subject access to lower archive.
Arthur stared at it.
Then slowly smiled.
Mira noticed.
“What?”
Arthur tapped the page.
“They were afraid I’d remember.”
A bell rang somewhere outside.
The archivist immediately closed the file.
“You need to leave.”
Arthur didn’t move.
“I have one more question.”
“No.”
“You haven’t heard it.”
“I know what you’re going to ask.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Where the lower archive is.”
Arthur smiled.
“Excellent guess.”
The archivist’s expression remained serious.
“You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”
“That seems to be the only thing everyone agrees on.”
Arthur turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Thank you.”
The archivist looked surprised.
Arthur glanced back.
“You’ve told me more than anyone else has.”
He left.
Mira followed.
Neither spoke until they reached the main archive.
Then Mira asked:
“Are you angry?”
Arthur considered the question.
“Yes.”
“At Seraphine?”
“No.”
“At the person who sealed your memories?”
Arthur stopped walking.
“I don’t know who that person is.”
“Then what are you angry about?”
Arthur looked down at the disciplinary book in his hands.
“I don’t like being manipulated.”
Mira nodded.
“That’s understandable.”
Arthur looked at her.
“But I’m also relieved.”
“Relieved?”
“Now I know I wasn’t imagining it.”
He tapped the side of his head.
“Something was taken from me.”
Mira studied him.
“And you’re going to get it back.”
Arthur’s expression was calm.
“Yes.”
They left the archive.
The courtyard was crowded.
Students were returning from morning training.
Arthur barely noticed them.
His thoughts were elsewhere.
He had expected the records to reveal that the old Arthur had been a monster.
Instead, they had revealed something worse.
Someone had been afraid of him.
Arthur stopped beside the ranking board.
His name was still there.
ARTHUR VALE — 312
But something had changed.
A new line had appeared underneath.
RESOURCE ALLOCATION: 2 MANA CRYSTALS
Arthur stared.
“Two?”
Mira looked at the board.
“That won’t last a week.”
“I know.”
“You can’t practice properly with that.”
“I know.”
“You’ll need to buy more.”
“With what?”
Mira looked at him.
Arthur smiled faintly.
“Exactly.”
A voice came from behind them.
“Need money?”
Arthur turned.
Leon stood there.
He tossed something toward Arthur.
Arthur caught it.
A single mana crystal.
He looked at it.
Then at Leon.
“Why?”
Leon shrugged.
“Call it repayment.”
“For what?”
“The fang hound.”
Arthur frowned.
“I didn’t do anything for you.”
“You made the fight look interesting.”
Arthur almost laughed.
“That’s your reason?”
“It’s enough.”
Leon turned away.
Arthur looked at the crystal in his palm.
One crystal.
Worth more than several meals.
He called after him.
“Leon.”
Leon stopped.
Arthur held up the crystal.
“I’ll repay you.”
Leon looked back.
“I know.”
Arthur frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Leon smiled.
“You’re Arthur Vale.”
He walked away.
Arthur watched him disappear.
Mira spoke quietly.
“Everyone seems to know your name.”
Arthur looked at the crystal.
“Yes.”
He closed his hand around it.
“I’m beginning to understand why.”
That evening, Arthur returned to Room 417.
The other three students were already there.
The boy whose brother he had supposedly ruined looked up.
Arthur ignored him.
He placed the mana crystal on his desk.
Then opened the disciplinary book.
He read the same line again.
Following contact with the sealed chamber.
Arthur closed the book.
His attention shifted toward the wall.
The carved symbol was still there.
Circle.
Three lines.
He touched it.
Nothing happened.
Arthur frowned.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Mira’s warning returned to him.
Don’t assume the person you were is the person you are.
Arthur withdrew his hand.
Perhaps that was the point.
Maybe the old Arthur had entered the chamber.
Maybe he’d done something terrible.
Maybe he’d discovered something he shouldn’t have.
But Arthur didn’t have those memories.
He only had the consequences.
That would have to be enough.
He took the mana crystal.
The system appeared.
[Available Resource Detected.]
Mana Crystal: Low Grade
Recommended Use: Skill Development
Warning: Current mana reserves insufficient for stable optimization.
Arthur smiled.
At least one problem was straightforward.
He placed the crystal against his palm.
Darkness gathered around his fingers.
A single thread emerged.
Thin.
Almost invisible.
It trembled.
Arthur tried to control it.
The thread snapped.
He frowned.
Again.
It formed.
Again, it broke.
His hand began to ache.
Arthur stopped.
He looked at the tiny amount of darkness remaining around his fingertips.
Back on Earth, failure had usually meant finding another person to blame.
Here, there was nobody.
No secretary.
No lawyer.
No subordinate.
Just him.
Arthur looked at the broken thread.
Then tried again.
This time, he moved his hand more slowly.
A smooth motion.
Almost like adjusting a cufflink.
The darkness followed.
The thread remained intact.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
A faint notification appeared.
[Technique recognized.]
[Unnecessary movement reduced.]
[Shadow Thread control: +1]
Arthur stared.
Not a dramatic increase.
Not a new spell.
Just one point.
He smiled.
“Fine.”
He tried again.
And again.
Across the room, someone quietly watched him.
The boy whose brother Arthur had ruined.
He didn’t say anything.
He simply stared at the thin strand of darkness moving between Arthur’s fingers.
Because three months ago, Arthur Vale had used Shadow Thread differently.
Violently.
Wildly.
Like someone trying to tear the world apart.
This version of Arthur moved as though every gesture had a purpose.
The boy looked away.
For the first time, he wondered whether the person sitting in Room 417 was actually the same person who had left it.
Outside the dormitory window, the academy bells began to ring.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then stopped.
Arthur looked toward the darkness beyond the glass.
He had no idea what tomorrow would bring.
But now he had three things he hadn’t possessed yesterday.
A name to investigate.
A person to question.
And a reason to become stronger.
For the first time since waking up in this world, Arthur felt like he was moving forward.
Then the system quietly displayed one final line.
[Optimization Progress: 1%]
[The Court has acknowledged your first improvement.]