Electives[1]

I looked at the card in my hand. My digits tentatively hovered over my smartphone's screen.

'Was it wise to make the call?'

Maybe not?

What if they were indifferent to my request?

Despite the niggling doubt, I dialed the number.

Beep! Beep!

The electronic beeps rang in my ear, thrumming with a certain feeling. I felt...tension. A strange irritation.

There was a time when such things passed without notice, just another part of the everyday life, but now it was different. The rhythm of beeps, cadence of early modern, they tugged at threads I hadn't known were loose.

Sigh!

Click! Finally the call connected.

"Hello?" A gruff voice greeted me.

. . .

"Good morning, sir. Noah here," I said.

There was a pause, the kind that stretches a little too long. "Um… Noah? Who's Noah?" There was a little hesitance.

Did you truly forget your 'savior'? I mused.

"Remember the guy during your recent dungeon skirmish?" I hinted, hoping to jog his memory.

There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a laugh, like the pieces had just clicked into place. "Oh? Oh! Noah! You threw me for a loop there, kid."

"How's everything on your end? You and your team doing all right?" I asked, more out of politeness than anything.

"Good, good. Everyone's bounced back. If you hadn't been there… well, no use dwelling on it now. But what brings you to my line, kid?"

No point beating around the bush, I thought. "I need a favor."

"A favor?" He repeated, letting the words settle, weighing them. "Depends on what you're asking."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Nothing too big. I'm looking to join your team for a bit—explore some dungeons, hunt a few beasts. Forest officials won't let me unless I'm with an official team. I'm hoping to learn from someone with real experience."

There was a moment of silence, then his voice came through, measured. "That shouldn't be an issue, Noah... but it's not happening right now."

"Not now?" I echoed, a bit thrown off.

"Yeah, we're heading into monster-flux, not a good season. We're just a small group, not equipped to handle what's coming. We'd be asking for trouble going in now. Best to wait it out—four months, maybe."

"Got it... No problem. Thanks for the heads up," I said, the disappointment sinking in, but understanding all the same.

"Sure thing, keep in touch," Riley replied before ending the call.

Four months...

I could wait. There was no hurry. The demon invasion was still a while away.

Perhaps it's a bit premature to start preparing just yet? But then again, the sooner I get the blood-beads to Aeravat, the more advantageous it will be.

With my strength, I can't be at the forefront. But I could cook from the side lines.

The butterfly effect has already shown its face once before. I can't just rely on things unfolding as they did in the story. It might be necessary to guide these main-characters or nudge their paths a bit.

Fate has a way of complicating things for me, I have to be proactive this time instead of being reactive.

'I must be the one in control.'

Just like any of those fleeting moments of distraction, the kind I usually try to avoid, my thoughts drifted back to something, a time not so long ago, I felt a familiar tightness in my grip. A painful breath escaped me.

'Never again.'

***

The office chamber. Pale light. Its circular skylight, obscured by a shroud of storm clouds. A tempest brooded outside, mirroring the... the agitation. The smell of rot. The smell of rot that ripe fruit makes. The monotony of life.

[Faculty Office D-A]

Professor Riya Ahuja occupied her private office, the warmth from the radiator stark against the chill of the storm. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee in the room, a subtle comfort in the otherwise clinical space. Her desk, untidied with papers and files—each one a witness to the bureaucracy that defined her position.

She went through the documents with the practiced detachment of someone who had long grown weary of their predictable outcomes. It was the customary Power Assessment Evaluation, a process designed to separate the cream from the dross—those destined for esteemed positions in guilds or the Hero Association, sharply contrasted against those fated to become mere cannon fodder: soldiers.

Her glasses rested coolly against her nose as she flipped through the pages, her attention drifting—the dusty volumes of mythology on the shelf seemed to mock her drudgerous evening.

And then there was another file. It belonged to a student, Noah Grey. Ranked 1,872.

During the sparring session, he managed to hold his ground against someone in the hundreds. Though he eventually lost, his perseverance was good. Riya went through Noah's file, her eyes already tired.

His mediocre rank and unremarkable battle prowess painted an uninteresting picture. His IQ... surprisingly at the high end of the spectrum?

"No wonder he was able to explain those theories so clearly," Riya scoffed, remembering what happened in her class not too long ago.

Other than that, Noah blended seamlessly into the mass. Simply put, Noah was just your average Joe.

It was disappointing, knowing that the academy, renowned for producing exceptional students, was full of so many bland characters. No wonder Arcanum never won any of the inter-school tournaments.

She went deeper into the record, and then found something. Something more... something odd. An eyes-only stamp on Noah's mana assessments.

"The dean has personally prohibited this part?" she murmured, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.

Thunderclap. A violent crack, shaking the room. The sky outside plunged into darkness. Rain, pounding fiercely against the window. Lights flickered, dimmed. The room grew cold.

Her heart raced. She jolted, the file trembling in her hands. Focus. She scanned the next section.

What is this?

The parental background section was supposed to offer insight. Instead, the page... was blank. Completely empty.

There was a surprising lack of information about Noah's life before the age of ten.

"Strange," Riya whispered, her voice barely audible.

The absence of records about any schools, homes, or even his parents felt almost... deliberate. As if they had been erased. Was this a mistake on CU's part, or no... was it intentional?

She thought to bring it up with the clerk later, but a gnawing doubt lingered in her mind. "The director restricted access to some parts of the file... and now this baffling omission..."

Maybe, she was just overthinking... Maybe.

***

Noah's POV:

"You can think of an Art as the necessary guide book which gives you knowledge on how to use your affinities, shape them, create different variant moves which could have different effects. But to use that knowledge, you need the Artifact—the core gadget. The Art is the program, and the artifact is the computer," Professor Riya's continued her lecture.

James was sitting by my side, half asleep. Every few minutes, his head hit the table, jerking him awake just long enough to succumb again.

...

It had been some time since I entered the academy, attending the classes.

I couldn't say I was particularly happy about the classes. Half the concepts of magic made no sense to me. The other half went right over my head. For example, the six arts of magic: Elemental Conjuring, Mana Augmentation, Spells, Man-Armis, Enhanced Perception, and Scutums.

Man-Armis and Scutums were both used for defensive purposes, and they operated on nearly identical principles. So why were they considered separate arts of magic?

Sigh.

Beyond all that, it wasn't just the difficulty of training; the boring theoretical courses about magic and the low-grade math I had no interest in made every day feel almost mundane.

The only thing that caught my interest regarding magic was the refinement and creation of artifacts using glyphs, rules, runes and scripts related to Old English and ancient Egyptian. It wasn't a course the academy taught. I stumbled upon it in the library and found it interesting.

On the surface, creating artifacts was similar to computer programming.

I spent the last few days trying to build my understanding of this for a future project I had in mind.

"Alright, that marks the end of the lesson. I hope you enjoy yourselves choosing your electives," Riya's voice interrupted my thoughts.

So its time?

Time of when first-year students would be allowed to select their electives.

There was a 'specialized combat' course, a programming course, a dungeon course, and even a physics course.

If I wasn't wrong, the main cast would choose either the 'specialized combat' or 'dungeon' course.

In my mind, I had already chosen the chemistry course. It was about time to kick start my chain of plans.

Packing my things, I decided to head to the pharmacy first.