Arkana Academy didn't waste time.
By their second day, the first-year students were already being evaluated—not in theory, not in written exams, but in manifestation chambers, where magic was stripped bare and turned into light.
Noé stood at the edge of one of those chambers now. It looked like a cathedral made of stone and runes, humming with pressure that made the air shimmer.
Professor Lior's voice echoed from the high walls.
"Step into the circle when your name is called. You will manifest your affinity."
Mira went first.
She hopped forward, barefoot again for some reason, and grinned at the onlookers. As soon as she entered the rune circle, a warm golden glow spread from her chest, and wildflowers bloomed beneath her feet.
A quiet awe filled the room.
"Emotiva class," Lior said, scribbling. "Chaotic emotional channeler. Natural."
Then came others—elemental types, scholars, a guy who summoned six knives in the air and caught them like a street performer.
Magic had a flavor. A rhythm.
Noé felt none of it.
When his name was called, he hesitated. The circle looked like it wanted something from him—something he wasn't sure he had.
He stepped in.
Nothing happened.
A beat of silence.
Then whispers.
"He's blank?"
"No core?"
"Maybe he's defective…"
Lior's eyes narrowed. Before he could say anything, however, a cold voice spoke from the shadows near the stairwell.
"He's hiding something."
Kael Verin stepped forward.
His cloak bore the seal of the Ordo Veritas, the academy's internal magical enforcers.
Kael's boots echoed as he stepped into the chamber, his cloak trailing behind him like a blade of shadow.
"He entered the circle," Kael said, "but it didn't reject him. That means there is a core. He's suppressing it. Or it's sealed."
Noé stared at him, unsure whether to feel offended or… exposed.
"I'm not hiding anything," he said quietly.
"That's exactly what someone hiding something would say."
Mira stepped between them. "Hey, back off. You're not some kind of truth god."
Kael ignored her.
Professor Lior, however, raised a hand. "Enough. If there is a seal or anomaly, it will react to pressure. We'll test it."
Before Noé could protest, Kael raised his hand—and light flared from a rune on his glove.
A wave of cold magic struck Noé square in the chest.
The world tilted.
Not from pain, but from shift.
The air warped. The walls bent. For a second, the chamber was not a room, but a sea of gears, stars, and cracked mirrors.
And in the middle of it all, Noé stood perfectly still—his silver key glowing faintly, his eyes wide and gray and hollow.
Then everything snapped back.
Kael was on one knee, breathing heavily. Mira was holding her head like she'd just ridden a hurricane.
And Professor Lior…
He stared at Noé with something between awe and dread.
"…That wasn't a defense spell," he murmured. "That was a temporal displacement pulse. Instinctive. Raw."
Noé blinked, still dazed.
"What… just happened?"
Lior's voice was quiet now.
"You turned back time."
The silence in the chamber cracked like thin glass.
Kael rose to his feet slowly, cloak settling around him like smoke, his eyes locked on Noé. But he didn't speak.
Because around them, murmurs had started to bloom.
"That… wasn't normal."
"Did he just—did time bend?"
"I felt sick for a second. Like vertigo, but inside my soul."
"Maybe he's not even human…"
"Shut up!" Mira snapped, turning on the crowd. "He didn't do anything! He just stood there!"
"Yeah, and a rune activated on its own," a tall boy with stormy gray hair muttered. "Rookie or not, that doesn't happen."
Professor Lior didn't stop the chatter. He just watched Noé, still rubbing the edge of his chalk in slow, tight circles.
Then Lysira stepped forward.
Not loud. Not fast. But somehow, the room shifted with her movement—subtle as gravity. Even Kael moved aside, just slightly, as if instinctively.
"Noé," she said calmly. "What were you thinking? Just before it happened."
He swallowed. "I wasn't thinking anything. I was… remembering a sound. Like ticking. Like a clock stalling."
Lysira's eyes narrowed. She said nothing for a beat.
Then: "Come to the bell tower. At midnight."
Mira blinked. "Wait, what? Why?!"
"Because," Lysira answered, already turning to leave, "only the tower hears the truth when the clocks lie."
The chamber was left buzzing—confusion, suspicion, and something else: fear.
Professor Lior finally clapped his hands. "That will be all. This session is over. Return to your dormitories. Mr. Noé… you will be monitored until further notice."
Kael's shadow lingered at the edge of the doorway as students filed out.
And Noé…
He stood in the fading light of the rune circle, still unsure if he had stepped into the academy—
—or if he had just awakened from a very long sleep.
The academy slept like a castle in a dream—soft lamplight flickering through arched windows, shadows dancing on polished floors, and wind whispering ancient lullabies through high stone halls.
Noé moved like a ghost.
No footsteps. No breath. Just the key at his chest, ticking without sound.
He didn't ask why he obeyed Lysira's call. He didn't need to. Something in the world had turned its face toward him—and the clock inside him responded.
The bell tower stood at the far edge of the campus, wrapped in ivy and silence. Its gates were never locked, but no one ever came.
Except tonight.
As he stepped inside, time changed.
Not the flow.The feel.
The air was heavier. Thicker. Like stepping into a memory that wasn't his.
He climbed in silence. Spiral stairs, stone steps. Each one hummed faintly beneath his shoes, like a wire pulled too tight.
When he reached the top, the wind met him like an old friend.
And so did she.
Lysira stood at the window, her black hair drifting behind her, caught in the cold night breeze. Moonlight bathed the room in silver.
"You came," she said without turning.
"You knew I would," he answered.
She finally turned. Her expression wasn't cold—it was calculating. Studying.
Trying to solve him like a puzzle with missing pieces.
"Something's wrong with the timeline," she said. "The clocks around the academy stutter. Magic doesn't behave. I thought it was a fault in the system. But now…"
She walked toward him slowly.
"I think it's you."
Noé opened his mouth—but no words came.
Not denial. Not anger.
Just the ticking in his chest.
Just her voice, calm and cruel and curious.
"I don't think you were meant to exist," Lysira whispered. "I think you're the result of a spell that worked too well."
The wind howled once—and in the distance, a clock rang out.
Twelve times.
Midnight.
The tower began to hum.
And Noé, for the first time, felt like the world was leaning in to listen.
Noé leaned against the cold stone wall of the bell tower, breathing slow and steady, like trying to match the rhythm of a world that had suddenly grown too loud.
Lysira didn't move. Her eyes stayed on him, unreadable.
"You're not a student," she said finally. "You're a spell. Maybe even a curse."
Noé looked up at the cracked clock above them—the one that had stopped ticking weeks ago. But now, the hands trembled. Slightly. Like they remembered how to move.
"Then why am I here?" he whispered.
Lysira turned toward the window again, the moonlight casting her in silver. "Because something wanted you to be. Something strong enough to bend fate and tear a hole in time."
She glanced back. "You're not the problem, Noé. You're the question."
The wind carried her voice away before he could respond.
Later that night, long after the tower fell quiet, a page turned in Professor Lior's private journal.
The ink glowed faintly.
Subject 13-B / Codename: "Aeternum Core"
Manifestation Status: Unstable
Observation priority: Class Omega
If timeline degradation continues, recommend sealing or neutralization.
Requesting review from High Constellum.
And far, far beneath the academy—in a place no student was supposed to see—a locked door clicked once.
Then again.
And slowly, began to open.