Rune Craftsmanship Project

Cold, icy glares are traded across the rune craftsmanship table. It feels like the room temperature drops several degrees. A chill washes over me, one that isn't due to the environment. I catch Biana's eyes, and they seem darker, more menacing than I've ever seen them.

The weight of her pillow under her fingers is unmistakable. It's seemingly innocuous, but I know its potential all too well. Lysandra sits next to me, and while I'd usually refrain from showing any signs of vulnerability, I find my fingers wrapping around her arm, tightly. Thankfully, she's resilient enough to bear my grip without flinching.

"She wouldn't... would she?" The thought whirls around in my head like a tempest. Sweat forms at my brow.

My fingers tremble ever so slightly as I raise my hand, feigning nonchalance. I can see it mirrored in Biana, the twitch of her fingers, the grinding of her teeth.

"Damn it. This isn't just a game. Don't push her. But also... you can't back down now."

My heart hammers loudly against my chest, a staccato rhythm of dread and determination.

Biana's voice, a low warning growl, slices through the tension. "V, you better not. I shouldn't have to deal with it..."

Smirking, I muster up all the bravado I can. "You snooze, you lose," I reply, trying to seem unfazed.

In a split second, everything becomes a blur. I dart my hand forward, aiming for the project planning paper, the safer of the two.

Success washes over me as my fingers find their mark. "Hahahahaha! I won!" I cheer, triumphant. But that feeling of elation is abruptly squashed when I feel the jarring weight of Biana's pillow slamming onto my hand. The table cracks beneath the force, and a sharp pang of pain shoots up my arm.

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-Biana's POV

V. That audacious, infuriating, cheeky... The ire boiling inside me is palpable. I can feel the weight of my rune-infused pillow beneath my fingers. It feels cool, a stark contrast to the hot anger burning through me.

Across the table, V's icy brown eyes bore into mine. I recognize the fear beneath his feigned confidence. He clutches Lysandra's arm, and that gives me a sliver of satisfaction. "Good, he should be scared."

Each heartbeat is loud, deafening. It's as if everything else in the world fades away, and there's only this moment, this duel of wills.

He dares to taunt me. "You snooze, you lose." His smugness stokes the fire inside.

Without missing a beat, I see him move, swift as a snake, his hand closing around the project planning paper. But he's mistaken if he thinks he's won.

Summoning all the might my runes afford me, I bring down my pillow, smashing it onto his hand with the force of a sledgehammer. The table gives way, splintering into pieces.

A cold satisfaction settles over me. Let him rue the day he ever thought he could outplay me in this game.

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The rune craftsmanship classroom is awash in a mixture of tension and comedic disbelief. Papers fly through the air, propelled by Biana's destructive attempt to claim them, with V's voice echoing in the backdrop, filled with desperation, "Where is it!? Where did it go!?"

The sheer audacity of the situation has the rest of the class simply sighing. The professor stands at the front, his face a portrait of weary resignation. Clearly, he's had enough of Biana's antics, but even he hadn't prepared for this spectacle.

The paper they both so desperately crave lies innocuously in the corner, forgotten and untouched. Their eyes lock onto it simultaneously, a newfound glint of determination taking root. Heartbeats synchronize in rapid patterns, sweat glistening on their foreheads in the ambient light of the room.

Biana's move is as swift as it is unexpected. She hurls her rune-infused pillow at V, its weight slamming him to the ground. But V's resilience isn't easily shattered. With a swift move, he picks up a broken table leg and hurls it in retaliation. Biana is caught off guard and the leg trips her, sending her crashing face-first into the cold stone floor.

Both adversaries lie there, eyes wide and breaths shallow. The brief reprieve is interrupted by V's husky voice, filled with defiance, "Back down Biana, you're not winning this." But Biana, ever the unpredictable force, reaches into her pouch, procuring yet another pillow. She states her simple, yet profound reasoning: "I need to nap."

As the second pillow takes flight, aimed perfectly at V, he dodges, leading to yet another destroyed desk. They both leap simultaneously, desperate hands reaching for the paper. It's then that Lysandra, the wildcard in this elaborate game, intervenes.

Lysandra stands tall, a smirk playing on her lips as she looks down at the fallen warriors. Her intentions are cloaked in mystery, but the palpable dread is evident on both V's and Biana's faces. Their heartbeats sync once more, but this time in fear. The tension is thick enough to cut through.

Lysandra, relishing her newfound position of power, does the unexpected. Without an elaborate speech or monologue, she simply drops a paper in front of each fallen gladiator. V and Biana's expressions transform into those of sheer horror and helplessness. Tears form involuntarily, streaking down their faces, as they realize the battle they fought so hard for was in vain. She gave them each the paper neither of them wanted...

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-Biana's POV

A loud THUD reverberates throughout the library, causing a few heads to turn in our direction. It's my own hand, slamming down on the holographic table in sheer frustration. I grip my pencil so tightly, it feels like it might snap. Swiping away the holographic screen, I fixate my glare on Lysandra.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Why the hell did you do that!?" The words come out in a rushed tirade, each one dripping with annoyance.

V, sitting on the opposite side, releases an exasperated sigh. "Why are you here?" he asks, his gaze now directed at Isadora who seems to be happily munching on the cookies V had prepared earlier. Doesn't she usually train around this time?

Isadora, always the aloof one, just shrugs, continuing her snacking spree without a word. V, defeated by her silence, just hands her a glass of milk. She accepts it without a thank you, but I guess that's just Isadora for you.

Lysandra, that infuriatingly smug witch, stretches her arms wide, a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin plastered on her face. "Why not?" She smirks even wider, the sadistic delight evident in her eyes. "Now, instead of fighting for the easy part, you two can work on the hard part."

I can feel the veins on my forehead throb in frustration, and before I can even think, a yawn escapes my lips. My cursed, involuntary reaction. Seizing the opportunity, I hurl my pillow right at Lysandra's grinning face, only to be met with her still-standing and still-smirking form. Does she not feel any pain!? Fuck!

Quickly, I reinstate the holographic screen to block out her irritating visage. The dread starts to creep in. Dammit, that devil said she'll visit me if I don't focus on at least one class. I can't afford to see her now, not with what she'd do. The taste of that foul potion still lingers in my memory, forcing me into a state of wakefulness against my will.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Why did I ever think rune class was a good idea? I should've known better. Why does the professor want us to make a device powered by a rune formation? If I don't get this right, my grade will plummet below passing. All I wanted was the easy part! And to top it off, why the hell is Isadora here, munching away like she owns the place? She's not even in our damned class!

Ugh, why did I ever think rune class was a good idea? The buzz of the library around me dims, fading to nothing as I take a deep breath, and then I'm there. The place I go when I truly need to focus, when the weight of the world bears down on me and I need clarity. It's a dark abyss, vast and endless, with only the faint shimmer of the holographic screen as my sole point of reference.

I tap my pencil on the table, rolling it between my fingers, feeling the cool, smooth metal and the slight vibration of the device. The soft hum of its energy brings a sense of calm. But then, it begins. Runic symbols materialize from the pitch-black void, swirling around me, their glow piercing the darkness like thousands of shining stars. Each one with its distinct shape, meaning, and power.

I try to focus on the task at hand – a device powered by a rune formation. A mana disrupter to be exact. It has to be small. I've got an image in my mind, but transferring it from thought to design is going to be a challenge.

I picture it in my mind's eye - a wheel. But not just any wheel. It has to be intricate, a marvel of design and craftsmanship. The outer layer is sleek, with the silvery sheen of polished metal, while the inner part is filled with delicate rune patterns that spiral towards the center. Each groove, each curvature, perfectly designed to channel and disrupt mana.

As I visualize it, the runic symbols that I need glow even brighter, pulling themselves free from the mass and rearranging into a systematic formation in the vast emptiness around me. I can see the classical pethon rune style, but they're not what I want. They're basic, too basic for my taste. And if there's one thing I hate, it's being basic.

Suddenly, in a flash of inspiration, I think of the methesus symbols. Their intricate designs, their uniqueness... yes, that's it! The pethon symbols dissipate into nothingness, replaced by a myriad of methesus symbols. They're more intricate, more dynamic. Perfect.

With precision, I manipulate them, shrinking them down and positioning them so they take on the appearance of pethon symbols. It's a trick of the eye, a ruse, but one that will surely impress the professor... Na, I doubt he'll even notice. 

Now for the materials. Labels appear next to each symbol, indicating what I need. Most are common, but a few rare ones make me wince. This project isn't going to be cheap. But then again, it's my grade on the line.

As the final touches are added, the design becomes solid in my mind. Ugh, I hope I don't have to do this shit again. The swirling abyss around me begins to fade, the darkness lifting. I blink, finding myself back in the library.

I yawn and stretch. "Hmmm... I don't want to build it. Ugh, should I hire someone?"

V looks up from his work, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, you done already? It's been like five minutes." He smirks, showing that cocky grin I've come to both love and hate. "Here, design mine."

I give him a look of pure disbelief. "Seriously? You're giving me more work?"

He chuckles, "Well, you're the expert here. And you're so good, it only takes you five minutes."

I roll my eyes but can't help but smile. "I knew we were best friends for a reason." With a flick, I send my holographic screen his way. "You can make all the parts right?"

V sighs dramatically, making a show of it. "You damn bastard... I can get them. But you'll have to help me engrave those damn runes, there's nearly a hundred on this small thing."

I yawn again, waving my hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Inside, though, my thoughts are racing. Yeah... fuck that, fuck him. I'll design his, and he'll have no choice but to do it himself. He can handle the grunt work. After all, I did the hard part. Hehehe, I will never let that devil come near me. I'll burn the world if I have to.