"Why are we not helping them?" Elysia asked. Her voice was sharp and annoyed—the kind of sharp that said she already knew the answer and asked it anyway.
Ash stayed silent for a beat, then muttered under his breath, "If they can handle it, isn't that fine? But if they're about to die, we'll jump in."
Elysia tilted her head sharply toward him, brow twitching. He caught it from the corner of his eye and quickly said, "Don't move—someone might noti—"
BAAM!!
A clean hit landed right on the top of his head.
Ash nearly leapt out of his skin. His entire body flinched, but he held himself back—barely.
"The hell, Elysia?!" he whisper-yelled, voice riding the wave between panic and rage,"They'll notice us if you keep doing that!"
"And you..." she growled, her eyes burning into him, "You've gone completely back to your old self. I thought maybe—just maybe—you had grown a little, but no. You're the same infuriating idiot as always."
"I have grown. I'm better than ever!" he snapped back, defensive.
"Don't. You. Dare. Cut me off."
BAAM!!
Another blessed fist of fury descended upon his skull.
"No one knows you like I do," she continued, "You're technically lower ranked than me, yet somehow I can feel you're on my level—maybe even stronger. I don't even know how that's possible. But one thing's for damn sure—you're powerful. Right?"
Ash blinked. Then looked away.
"..."
"I said right?"
"...Yes."
"So why are you standing here like some extra, waiting for a perfect hero entrance? What, you think this is a novel and you're the cool late-entry protagonist?"
"B-but—"
"Shut. Up."
BOOOOM!!!
SLASH!
PUKEEE!!
The battle continued in the distance, explosions shaking the ground—but Elysia's furious rant didn't even flinch.
"You were always like this," she said, her voice a mix of anger and hurt, "Even in the last life, you dumbass. I remember it. You were smart—probably the smartest in the damn school—but you never showed it. You let yourself be pushed around. And what was your reason again?"
She mimicked his voice, pitch rising in mocking sing-song: "Isn't it better to stay out of the spotlight?"
Ash didn't respond. He lowered his head like a dog who knew the slipper was coming.
"B-but—"
"No. Let me finish."
He opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it.
"You're doing it again. Hiding your strength like it's some dirty secret. Still pretending you're average when you're clearly not."
He almost said, I wasn't this strong at the beginning, but even that died on his lips.
He wanted to dig a hole and crawl in. She was digging up parts of him he buried on purpose.
"You're still a coward, aren't you?"
"I am not," Ash growled back, jaw clenched.
"You are."
She paused. Then said, softer but still heated, "Ugh… I worked so hard to pull you out of that shell, to change that self-loathing, self-hiding version of you… and now you're back in it like it's your comfort blanket."
He looked at her, frustration bubbling, "What good would it do if people knew I was strong? Isn't it better to catch the enemy off guard? If I show my power, they'll target me. Or worse, target my—"
CLASH!
CLANG!
SHRRIIIK!
"Enemy? WHO?", she barked, pulling his collar with her hand, their faces were inches apart.
"—My weakness…" he muttered.
Her expression cracked for a moment after hearing the last word, his words hit something she didn't expect.
She stared at him.
He stared back.
But he was thinking inwardly about the things she said.
Who even is my enemy? He thought, No one even knows me. I barely exist here… so why am I hiding like I'm some criminal? Why was I hiding, pretending to be weak?
He didn't know the answer, he just followed what he felt best at the moment to survive at unknown place.
"And what exactly is your weakness, huh?" she asked, putting extra pressure on that last word.
Ash didn't answer.
Just looked at her.
"...T-this fucker," she mumbled, voice trembling. A cocktail of anger, guilt, and something she refused to name. Her fists clenched, not to punch—but to stop them from shaking.
"You think I'm your weakness?"
Ash still said nothing, but his silence was loud.
She sighed and made a face, like she was about to scream or cry but did neither.
"I'm not your weakness, Ash", Her voice rang clearer than before, like steel sharpened by truth, "I'm not some glass doll. I'm not who I was before. I'm strong now. In this world, we can become strong, just like those crazy novels we used to read."
She pulled him even closer, close enough that he had to look her in the eyes and feel her breadth.
"So tell me… do you want me to be your weakness? Or your strength?"
The chaos in the background blurred into noise. Her words hit harder than any explosion.
Ash blinked, feeling a little shocked at the close distance, but even more shocked at her words.
For the first time, he actually thought about it.
Wasn't she right?
Why had he always treated her like something fragile, something to protect, to hide behind, when maybe—just maybe—she was the one who could lift him up?
Possibilities opened up in his mind like a door unsealed.
But Elysia wasn't done.
"I've watched you for the past month. You don't talk to anyone. You don't even try. You isolate yourself, just like before. And don't you dare say it's because you're 'bad at talking.'"
Ash muttered, barely audible: "...I'm not good at talking."
"Ughhh!! I knew you'd say that!" she whisper-yelled, while widening her eyes.
"But—"
Elysia's words caught in her throat. Her expression froze.
A chill ran down their spines as an invisible force swept through the hallway, thick with dread and the kind of presence that instinctively made the body want to run.
Ash's attention snapped toward the direction of the fight as the crackling sensation of demonic energy surged through the air. It was thick, volatile, a storm building without sound or warning.
And then he saw it.
His eyes locked onto Miraak, whose body radiated demonic energy like a beacon of chaos.
Just beside him, a fracture hung in the air—no larger than an egg, but glowing like a dying star. Black light spiraled around its edges, warping space with a pull that made the world seem off-balance.
A single glance told him everything he needed to know.
He's trying to open a portal...
While arguing with Elysia, he had almost forgotten the most dangerous part of this fight.
A whisper of panic fluttered in his chest, but he crushed it down.
"Shit..." he muttered, under his breath, voice low and tight with urgency, because there was no time to hesitate, no time to think about consequences or fear or failure.
He knew, deep in his bones, that if that portal opened fully, if Miraak managed to summon even one more high-ranked demon or a wave of demonic beasts into the academy, it wouldn't be a battle anymore.
It would be a massacre.
Without wasting another second, he channeled lightning mana through his veins and muscle in his lower body, letting it surge with raw and wild power and muttered, "Omni thought."
Suddenly, Colors drained from his vision, bleeding into shades of gray as time bent under the weight of the ability. The world around him slowed to a crawl, like molasses slipping down glass, and every movement became deliberate, visible, like watching the hands of a clock tick one by one instead of spinning wildly.
He carefully freed himself from Elysia's grasp and launched himself forward with a burst of speed. Every step he took left behind arcs of lightning.
The world around him blurred into streaks of gray and white, but inside his mind, it felt as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, every moment dragging out like a heartbeat stretched across eternity.
And within that stretched silence, thought after thought bloomed wildly in his mind like spider webs weaving themselves mid-air.
Some thoughts focused on how to stop the portal that now pulsed with unstable energy, while others clung stubbornly to the echo of Elysia's words.
Was I being a coward? The question rose, uninvited but undeniable.
And the answer came like a whisper from the darkest corners of himself.
Yes. I was.
He didn't need to deny it. Not anymore. He had avoided it for too long already.
And as he looked inside his heart without the layers of excuses or the fog of self-pity—he realized something far worse than fear had been driving him.
I was being delusional.
He had always justified his silence with the idea that he was just trying to survive. That it was better to be overlooked than to be judged. That staying unseen was safer. But when he broke down those thoughts, when he examined them from every possible angle, a bitter truth rose like bile in the back of his throat.
So what if I'm weak? People will still mock me. Let them come, let them bully me like they always have. I've lived through it before, and I'll survive it again.
And if I'm strong?
If I'm strong, I'll be respected, feared, even admired—but I'll also become a threat. I'll be envied. I'll gain enemies, not because I want them, but because that's what power does. So what? Should I keep hiding just because I'm afraid of making enemies? That's not caution. That's just plain stupidity.
The words carved themselves into his heart with brutal honesty.
From the day I decided to change fate... from the moment I chose to save the world... I was already making a declaration of war—against demons, against angels, against the entire damned system that controls destiny.
So why... why the hell am I still afraid?
A single word rose like a curse, like a secret he'd never dared admit out loud even to himself.
Spotlight.
He feared it. Not the power, not the responsibility—but the eyes. The scrutiny. The weight of being seen, truly seen, and judged by people who would never understand the hell he'd crawled through to get here.
But even that excuse felt hollow now.
Because if he ever said that out loud, if he ever told Elysia that his greatest fear was just being looked at—just being noticed—she'd beat the living hell out of him without a second thought.
And deep down, he'd know he deserved it.
So at that moment, Ash made a decision, a quiet and solid choice that settled deep into his bones.
No more hiding. No more shrinking myself just to make others feel comfortable.
From this moment on, I'll stand at the front—just like the geniuses, just like the ones everyone admires and fears.
Even if I wasn't born with their talent, even if fate never gave me a head start—I've fought my way here. I've bled for every inch, broken and rebuilt myself more times than I can count.
I've earned my place, not by luck or blessings, but through sheer will and the pain I never let break me.
I might not be a genius. I might not be some chosen hero.
But I am me. I am ASH BURN
And I refuse to disappear into the background ever again.
Let them see me.
Let them judge.
Let them come.
Because in the end, no one really cared how hard the journey was. No one asked how much you bled, or how often you broke.
They only cared about the result.
And Ash had decided...
He will show the world that hard work and determination can overcome talent.
***
A/N: The second chapter for today will be up in the evening—stay tuned! 😎