About the Eruption and the System (End)

Zafir whistled a sharp, clear note that pierced through the ambient noise of the classroom, silencing the hushed whispers and drawing all eyes to him.

"The first time is strange and exhausting," Zafir began. "Your eyes and brain are not used to the symbiotic system crawling and being active. It sounds creepy, and indeed it is, but it's somehow connected to our source of energy, therefore our power."

"So, by anything else, it is part of our new identity. Arguably, some thinkers say we're not humans anymore. I will not entertain the debate; this is more for philosophers than for me to lecture on. But what I can say is that your life isn't the same anymore."

Zafir paused, letting his words sink in. He could see the dawning realization on their faces, the mix of excitement and fear.

"The choices you made before awakening and the things you did then defined your 'path.' The same path that showed in the text before the conclusion of the awakening," Zafir continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "And that is what defines you. Therefore, the way you make your choices and think about yourself and the world around you will shape you entirely."

He raised his head slightly, a knowing grin playing on his lips. "This line of thought is important to be aware of now, and the reason for that is because the Eruption will be the parameters of your future self."

"I already explained what an Eruption is about," Zafir added, his tone shifting to one of caution. "And to conclude, beyond the basics, it was recently theorized, with great support from the Human Council, the idea of what the Eruption represents for us and our world."

"As the saying goes, there are no rewards without risks," Zafir said, chuckling softly. "And that applies here. The risks are well known and documented, but the rewards until the last decade were elusive and not well understood."

A collective gasp filled the room as Zafir continued, "It was discovered in an ancient stone in a Ruin, a fragment of writings about Ars, believed to be dated back 100,000 years. It took time for researchers and archaeologists to uncover the text, and the result was the following."

Zafir walked to the board, the sound of pen against the surface almost hypnotic as he erased its content and wrote the words "Ars," "Path," and "System." He nodded to himself before turning back to the class.

"The text implied that the way we interact with ourselves, the world, and the way we use our power shapes entirely the energy within our body. Therefore, it also changes the symbiotic system," he said.

Zafir clapped his hands sharply, pulling their attention back to him. "For instance, if you go for more extreme ways to improve your power, then your path will become extreme, and along with it, the system will influence your thoughts to be more aggressive in certain areas."

"This brings us to the final warning about the Eruption," Zafir said, his voice dropping to a more grave tone. "There, certain things will attempt and mostly succeed in changing your perception of the world, the way you see people, society, and yourself."

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting each student's in turn. "So, my advice is this," Zafir said, raising a finger for emphasis. "Anchor your beliefs and thoughts to something you feel comfortable with. It can be religion, an idea, or someone. What's important is that it must be strong enough to bring you back from dangerous thoughts."

The classroom was silent, the only sound was the soft hum of the ventilation system. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light filtering through the high ceiling. Students shifted in their seats.

He sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Trust me," Zafir concluded, his voice carrying a weight of hard-earned wisdom.

He pointed at his prosthetic arm, the light reflecting off the polished copper, creating a blurry, almost ghostly image of his face. He touched the glimmering metal, feeling its coolness against his skin. He took a deep breath, speaking in a low tone.

"I lost this arm due to a careless thought during an Eruption. It made me think I was invincible, the hero of the day," Zafir said, shaking his head slowly. "I was lucky to only have lost my arm that day."

"Keep your minds safe," Zafir added with a low chuckle that held no humor. "Keep it safe from external thoughts. Don't doubt yourself there, and don't overestimate your capabilities. Keep your friends close and help each other, but always be aware of the dangers that lurk within and outside of you."

Zafir put on his shoes and closed his suitcase, rising to give a last, lingering look at their faces. His eyes reflected a glimpse of his past experiences, and despite his advice, he couldn't keep the dark thoughts from creeping into his mind.

He saw their expressions: hope, anxiety, surprise, and dread — a mirror of his own emotions before his first Eruption. He knew that some of them he would likely never see again. The death rate of an Eruption had always been high, and with them being so unprepared, it would likely be higher than usual.

This reminded him of why he hated this lecture so much. He was given the spot to lecture because the previous teacher had died, and since he was part of the research team that sought to learn more about the Eruption, he was next in line.

He thought about his time. The Eruption they faced was one that, if they hadn't won, a good part of their continent would have been devastated. It was a Cursed Eruption. Of the fifty challengers, only seven survived.

Those challengers would later be recognized as legends in their own way. But he despised the idea of it, so he chose a calmer life and, with the help of his contacts in the council, managed to hide his past from the public.

He almost lost track of time when he snapped back to reality. With an annoyed expression and his usual monotone, he said, "This lecture ends here. I hope to see most of you next time."

He watched them exit, some glancing back with expressions that mirrored the emotions he had seen so many times before. It was a familiar, but no less bitter, routine.

"You can come out now," Zafir called, his voice low and steady as he raised the cigarette to his lips, the glow from the tip casting a brief, flickering light on his face.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he inhaled, the tendrils of smoke swirling around him before drifting towards the shadowy corner of the room. The smoke hit the space, forming a makeshift ellipse and a curved surface like a shield.

A gust of wind materialized from the void, cool and sharp against Zafir's skin, scattering the smoke as a figure emerged.

It was Gilberto, the vice director. His hat's brim obscured the dim light, which cast long shadows across his face and highlighted his stark white beard.

His brown skin gleamed like polished bronze. He stepped forward, the hard soles of his shoes barely making a sound against the wooden floor. "You know, I needed to make sure this lecture happened," he said, his voice rich and smooth.

"You have little faith in me," Zafir said, shaking his head. "You know I hate this, but you also know I've never failed a lecture since that day."

Gilberto tasted his lips as he took a deep breath, turning to Zafir. "New brand?"

Zafir shrugged and tossed one to Gilberto. "Experimental. That woman is the same as always."

Gilberto used the tip of his finger to ignite the hand-rolled cigarette, moving it so fast that the friction was enough to light it. He took a drag. "Oh! It's mint. She'll make another fortune. Sometimes I envy these youngsters for making a good living and eating well."

Zafir's expression turned dark. "Look at me, Gilberto. Do I look like someone making a good living and eating well?"

Gilberto eyed him up and down, chuckling. "You need to eat some fiber, Zafir, and I agree. But living well? I'm sure. After all, it was you who uncovered that ancient fragment about the Eruption. I'm sure they paid you well enough."

"Whatever?" Zafir shrugged. "But then, what is it?"

"What is it, what?"

"Old man," Zafir said, sighing. "Your hat can hide your expression from others, but not me. And I can clearly see that annoying, worried look you have."

Gilberto passed his right hand through his beard, shaking his head as he looked around the empty classroom. It made him sentimental.

"It's these kids, Zafir," Gilberto finally said, his voice softer. "They're so unprepared. The Eruption is coming sooner than we thought, and I can't help but worry."

Zafir leaned back, exhaling a long plume of smoke. "They're tougher than they look. They'll have to be. We all went through it, and we survived."

"Barely," Gilberto replied, his eyes reflecting the weight of his memories. "And some of us didn't come out whole." His gaze flickered to Zafir's prosthetic arm, a silent acknowledgment of their shared scars.

"That's true. But it's the nature of this world. They need to learn to adapt and survive," Zafir replied.

Gilberto nodded slowly, his eyes dark with concern. "I know. But something feels different this time. The signs... they're not like anything we've seen before."

Zafir's eyes narrowed. "Unusual how?"

"The intensity," Gilberto said, his voice barely a whisper. "There are indications of a larger convergence, something we've never seen before. If the Eruption is part of this, we're in uncharted territory."

Zafir rubbed his temples, the weight of Gilberto's words sinking in. "Then we need to prepare ourselves and the council. Make sure they understand what's at stake."

Gilberto sighed, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Yes, we do. And we need to be ready. This might be the biggest challenge we've ever faced. I hope they win it, but you know, in this jailed world we live in, hope is so meaningless."

Zafir nodded. "And what about him?"

"He left a letter," Gilberto answered. "He said he was on his way to the council. Well, I guess that Noctis will return from there to act as headmaster in his place."

"Why?" Zafir asked, a confused look crossing his face.

"Stencil said he had a feeling that something big would happen and that his presence would be required. That means he'll be spending more time in Ars than here."

"I see," Zafir said, dropping his eyes to look at his shoes. "Have you heard the rumors?"

"There are many rumors, Zafir," Gilberto said, shaking his head. "You need to be more specific. I'm old, y'know."

"You know what I'm talking about," Zafir said, looking deeply into his eyes. "About him and the other. Are they really going to fight?"

Gilberto looked left and right, his legs curving slightly as past fatigues took over. "I hope not. Those two… They could be more like you and that woman than anything else. I swear, sometimes I wonder if I'll die from a heart attack."

Zafir spat on the floor with an expression of anger. "Really? Like me? Gilberto, those two are devious; they could never be like us. One acts like a rabid animal seeking the frenzy of blood, while the other makes everyone look like a fool by just existing."

Zafir took a deep breath from his cigarette and exhaled. The smoke curled towards the floor and erased his spit. "Sorry about that. You know how I feel about them. When I remember the old days and that Eruption, the only thing that stood out for me was how lucky I was to have them at that time. But then, it changed everyone…"

Zafir stubbed out his cigarette, finding the flavor no longer the same and not wishing to associate it with his memories. "I'm afraid, Gilberto. Not only for me but for this continent too. Those dark cultists are more active than before, and now this Eruption seems different than usual. I wonder if it was like he said to us back then."

"Me too, Zafir," Gilberto chuckled darkly. "And that sentence… have you or the wisest deciphered it?"

"No," Zafir said, shaking his head. "Not a clue. 'Our lives lay in the hidden choice beneath the three obvious ones,' that's what he said. Until this day, we have no idea."

"I hope," Gilberto interrupted himself. "I hope to not use the word hope so often… Well, I wish he at least had the decency to contact us again and give us an answer."

Zafir laughed as he walked toward the exit before saying, "Good luck with that. To wish something from a fool is to make a fool of yourself, old man. See you later."