What if I woke up tomorrow and none of this was real?
What if the System, the academy, even these haunting dreams were just some elaborate fantasy?
Then what would be the point of all this struggle?
Honestly, the thought should have terrified me. But I wasn’t that immature anymore.
So, I just chuckled, drying my face with a towel.
Whether this was reality or some cosmic dream, one truth remained - the choices I made today mattered to the person I was right now. And that was enough for me.
A quiet certainty settled in my chest, like the first clear note in a discordant melody.
There was already a path forward, even if I couldn’t see all of it yet. I am gonna walk it step by step.
As I turned from the mirror, a final wry thought occurred:
If this is really a dream, I won’t have to get beaten by Virion and the turtles every day, at least. Haha.
After wearing the winter coat, I put my bag into the [Inventory] with a thought. The familiar weight vanished from my hands, leaving only the faintest chill against my skin—like the memory of touch rather than the thing itself.
I stepped out into the winter morning, breath fogging in the crisp air. When is the System finally going to finish its update?
Its last message flickered through my mind like a half-remembered dream:
[The System will start the update. Please refrain from dying during the process.]
A chuckle escaped me.
Yeah, yeah. No promises.
The pathways had been cleared of snow, though fresh flakes still drifted lazily from the sky. I walked slowly, watching them spiral downward—silent, weightless, vanishing the moment they touched the ground. They were just like us, meeting their inevitable fate at the end.
Beyond the covered walkway, the academy courtyard buzzed with life. Students laughed as they hurled snowballs at each other, their voices bright against the winter hush. A group of first-years had built a lopsided snowman near the fountain, while others engaged in an all-out snowball war, ducking behind makeshift barricades of packed ice.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
The thought came unbidden, followed by a sharp ache in my chest—like a wound long scarred over being pressed unexpectedly.
Did I... ever get to play like that?
Or had my childhood been nothing but hushed corridors and lowered gazes, flinching at raised voices instead of laughter?
I shook my head and kept walking. It seems like memories were affecting my emotions in subtle ways.
The path to the classroom building was treacherous—not from ice, but from stray snowballs arcing through the air. I dodged them effortlessly, my body moving on instinct before my mind even registered the threats. A flick to the left avoided one projectile. A half-step back let another sail harmlessly past my shoulder.
Just as I reached the building’s entrance, a whisper of movement came from my blind spot.
I sidestepped and pivoted in one fluid motion, my hand snapping up to catch the snowball aimed at the back of my head. The packed snow stung my palm, but I barely reacted.
My gaze locked onto the culprit.
Aeron stood a dozen paces away, his hands still raised in guilty surrender, his cheeks and nose flushed red from the cold. Behind him, Emilia and Livia peered around a snowbank, their expressions caught between amusement and apprehension. The rest of the class had frozen mid-battle, watching the confrontation with poorly hidden interest.
So it’s only him, huh?
I weighed the snowball in my hand, then gave him a "you asked for this" look.
Aeron’s eyes widened, while trying to dodge. "Wait, I can explai—argh!"
The snowball hit him square in the forehead. He collapsed backward and slowly sat up, rubbing his forehead.
Livia burst out laughing. Emilia facepalmed.
The courtyard erupted into laughter and chaos as the snowball war resumed with renewed vigor.
I scoffed as Aeron dramatically clutched his forehead.
Sure, you’re a swordsmanship prodigy or whatever, but I’m not a pushover either. I’ve got a decent aim, you know. And, you are still too young to challenge the mighty me, haha.
"Childish," I then muttered loud enough for him to hear, turning toward the building entrance.
"No, don’t run away!" Aeron’s indignant shout followed me. "This isn’t over!"
The door clicked shut just as another snowball splattered against it. Through the frosted window, I caught Aeron’s gaping expression—mouth open, snow-dusted hair sticking up in every direction, looking like an offended golden retriever.
I gave him my most infuriating smirk.
His frustrated scream was muffled by the glass as I walked away, but the way he shook his fists at the sky told me everything.
Victory never tasted so sweet, haha.
The hallway enveloped me in warmth, both physical and unexpected. That tightness in my chest from earlier? Gone. The lingering chill from the nightmare? Melted away like the snowflakes on my shoulders.
I flexed my fingers, half-expecting the usual tension to return. But no—just quiet contentment.
"It really worked," I murmured to myself. A small, genuine smile tugged at my lips.
Who knew petty revenge could be so therapeutic?
The realization settled over me like sunlight through stained glass—vibrant and strangely fragile.
Don’t worry, past me. I adjusted my collar, footsteps echoing down the empty corridor. You’re still an introvert. You still hate crowds. But...
The memory of Livia’s laughter, Emilia’s exasperated face, even Aeron’s ridiculous pouting flashed through my mind.
Although they are a bit troublesome, you’ve got friends now.
For once, the thought didn’t make me want to crawl into a dark corner and hibernate until spring. If anything, it felt...
A familiar chill crept up my neck.
"Wow," the Phantom Twin drawled, materializing mid-stride. "You’re embarrassingly bad at being edgy now."
I flicked a snowmelt droplet at him. "Shut up. I’m savoring character development."
He mimed vomiting. "Gross. Next, will you start hugging people?"
"H-Hey, wait for me!"
Across the hall, Aeron waved eagerly.
The Twin pointed. "Go for it, this is the perfect chance!"
I sighed. "Why do you have to be this infuriating?"
"Because I’m you?" he grinned, fading away as I unsummoned him.
Aeron’s voice echoed down the corridor, his boots squeaking on wet tile as he sprinted to catch up. I paused at the classroom door, watching my breath fog in the suddenly still air.
The Phantom Twin’s words lingered like frost on glass: Because I’m you?
Maybe. But also... not quite. Not anymore.
"Hey!" Aeron skidded to a stop, snow still melting in his hair. "You’re smiling. That’s new."
I touched my lips, surprised to find them curved upward. "Shut up," I said, and shoved him through the door first.