"Jake?" Mister Nocty’s brows drew together as he stared at the man, once young and quiet, standing several steps from them.
Although there were visible wrinkles and scars on Jake’s faint smile, his eyes still carried that sa look Mister Nocty rembered. His long hair, tied in a clean, low ponytail, and a black coat in the middle of the day scread one thing:
Zone Zero.
"What..." Confusion filled Mister Nocty’s mind until the entrance of the Old Building flew open.
BAM!
Mister Nocty, Jake, and even Mikel, who was still lying on the ground, looked at the old building’s entrance.
Walking out was Butler Basil. In his arms was an unconscious Blitz. Behind him were the students who had been trapped inside, their faces dirty and pale, with untold horror stories in their eyes.
"You ca," Butler Basil looked at Jake, then noticed more people—faculty mbers—rushing in their direction. "Before counting the casualties, the students are hurt."
A brief mont of silence whipped past them, but no one dared ask what happened. Once the mbers of the faculty reached them, they quickly checked on the students. Minutes later, there were more people in black coats around the campus.
As for Mikel, he was taken to the infirmary. He didn’t move as everyone reached them and allowed others to take him away. This ti, it wasn’t because he was affected by countless people’s mories, but because he had overdone his anima.
Another lesson learned for him.
His anima might be strong, but it also had its limits.
***
Mikel shared a ward with a few of his classmates. Most of them were barely wounded, just like him, but none of them spoke a word. They just either stared at the ceiling blankly or were quietly curled up on the bed.
He looked at the bed next to him and then to the other side. Then, he stared at the ceiling to process what he and Doom had been expecting.
Everest. The person responsible for the tragedy decades ago in this sa school.
After absorbing him and his imprint, Mikel—just as he had with every imprint—watched Everest’s life and briefly lived it.
Everest was a child abandoned and left to die by his parents. At the young age of four, he had to wander the streets of the town where he was left behind until one "kind" person extended a hand to him. With this person’s guidance, Everest survived.
He had looked up to this person as a parent, a father. Soone he owed his life to, and soone who had taught him about shamanism.
Everest had done everything this man told him to do, even learning shamanism to help him. It was just that the person who had taken him in practiced black magic. And with Everest’s innately strong spiritual energy, it was obvious his foster father had taken advantage of it for his own gain.
Years later, his foster father told Everest:
"You’ll be entering this place. A place where that man... that man is ruling. Take it down."
Like an obedient child, Everest accepted, but not without asking, "You said that man is dangerous, Father. He would know my intentions."
"He will not," the foster father smirked. "...not until I say so."
And just like that, Everest infiltrated the Refined Arts Academy with no mories of his mission or who he truly was. Put under a curse by the man he called father, Everest carried mories that were not his own, yielded a fake ability, and blended in with everyone.
He made friends, got punished for being a troublemaker, ate, laughed, spent sleepless nights, failed, and succeeded like any other young boy his age. Until the day he woke up from a nightmare about his mission.
Initially, it was just nightmares, then whispers, and visions until he finally regained his concealed mories.
However, what neither Everest nor his foster father expected was that, even after Everest rembered the truth, he had lived years of his life as a student. He had made precious friends, created wonderful mories, and for once, t people who would not take him in because he was useful to them.
And so, Everest tried to talk to his foster father to change his mind. To tell him he had friends, and he didn’t want his friends to get hurt. Had he used his vision first, he would have seen the outco. However, it was too late, as that man put a curse on him.
A ticking curse to fulfill his mission.
A curse that would trigger every ti Everest felt reluctance or defied his father’s orders.
Knowing this type of curse could never be broken unless fulfilled, Everest placed his own curse while struggling for control. He didn’t put the curse on himself, but rather, he put it in the Old Building.
Taking advantage of the existing power of the building, Everest poured every last bit of his will and spiritual energy into this curse.
"Save... them."
***
Mikel blinked slowly, snapping out of his thoughts. He had been trying to understand the curse Everest had cast.
But if I was right, the curse is... locking one incident in the cursed labyrinth.
DING!
[Correct.]
Mikel flinched when he suddenly heard a chi in his head. His face twitched at the screen hovering over his face.
"What the..." he trailed off, reminded that he had company.
What in the world, Doom? Since when did you get a ringtone?
[Master, I’ve always had that ability. I simply do not use it.]
Yeah, keep it that way. He clicked his tongue, waving a hand across the screen to move it away.
[To better understand the rules of the curse Everest had unleashed decades ago, he had saved one mont in the cursed labyrinth’s own energy and his. Once this saved mory is opened once more, any changes in it will inevitably affect the present.]
[However, to succeed, there were a few conditions that should be t:
A blood sacrifice
A catalyst
Lastly, a powerful concentration of spiritual energy]
The blood sacrifice already happened as he did offer Sabel.
Mikel nodded in understanding, aware of why Everest had made that choice.
Then, the catalyst...
[His unraveling.]
"Concentration of..." he trailed off as Doom remarked,
[You.]
[Master, Everest was truly a gifted shaman. It seed he had seen you in his vision, and had been waiting for you all along.]
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