Time seemed frozen. The campus bustle, distant announcements, rustling leaves... everything momentarily lost meaning. All I could see was Marcus's stunned face. My question hung in the air, heavy in the space between us. His expression was a mix of exposure and panic. I realized I had gone too far.
I immediately stepped back. "Wait, wait... I asked that wrong," I said in a gentle voice. "That's not what I meant."
Marcus swallowed, but his eyes were still on me, waiting to hear what I would say.
"What I mean is... are you also trying to improve yourself? Do you sometimes... feel stuck between who you want to be and who you are?" I explained. Now I had reached the real issue. Should I maintain the perfect, all-knowing Octavian image, or should I lower my guard and take a risk for the first time?
A scale formed in my mind. On one side were the protective walls I had built for years, on the other was the possibility of creating a real connection. If I were going to make a mistake, I should do it with Marcus. He was quiet. He wouldn't tell others what he heard, wouldn't expose me. He was the safest test subject for my first attempt at sincerity.
"Look," I said, my voice dropping almost to a whisper. "I'm... on a journey to become a better person. I didn't like who I used to be. So I'm trying to build a new me for myself. But this isn't easy. I keep making mistakes."
I didn't reveal my lies, my calculations. I just slightly lifted the veil covering the truth.
The tension on Marcus's face slowly dissolved. Surprise gave way to understanding, a recognition. He parted his lips and spoke in a barely audible voice.
"Me too... I want that too."
These few words touched my heart much more deeply than any compliments I had received from Luna. Joy filled me. I had succeeded. I had really succeeded.
Just then, a cheerful and loud voice shattered our quiet moment like a sledgehammer.
"Ooooh, what are you talking about so secretly?"
Gaius and Cassius appeared beside us with their usual energy. When Gaius asked me a question, all that warmth inside me instantly turned to ice. Panic spread through my veins like cold poison. As alarm bells rang in my brain, I struggled to find an answer.
"Nothing," I said, ensuring my voice didn't tremble. "I was just checking on Marcus."
Cassius laughed. "Checking what? Was he sick?"
I said the first nonsense that came to mind. Illogical, absurd, but the only way out at that moment.
"I was seeing if his silent scream was loud today."
They both paused for a moment. Their faces showed complete bewilderment. Then Gaius burst into laughter and Cassius joined him.
"My God, Octavian, sometimes it's impossible to understand what you're saying," said Gaius, tears coming from his eyes.
I was relieved. My ridiculous lie had worked. Marcus smiled slightly, his expression saying, " What just happened stays between us."
"Come on," said Cassius. "We'll be late for Aurex Cassimar's class. Legend says he takes the integral of latecomers on the blackboard."
The four of us started walking toward the amphitheater together. While Gaius and Cassius's jokes filled the air, Marcus and I padded side by side. A new bond had been formed between us that couldn't be put into words.
When we reached the amphitheater's massive wooden door, the digital clock in the corridor showed exactly five minutes until class started. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Despite Gaius and Cassius's delays, we're not late."
A familiar smile from across the corridor caught my attention as I was about to enter. It was Ella. She had noticed me while talking with her friend and waved sincerely. With the momentary confidence brought by that new, unspoken bond between us, I instinctively waved back.
The moment I raised my arm, my world collapsed.
A brown stain of indeterminate origin was on the white cuff of my shirt. It was small but right on my wrist, where everyone could see it. Panic instantly replaced the momentary confidence I had just felt. How had this happened? On the bus? While walking? As my mind scanned possibilities, my body froze at the door.
Should I fold my sleeve? But then it would be too obvious. If I wash it, will it come out? If it doesn't, it'll look worse.
Amid this internal chaos, I heard someone grumbling behind me. I realized at that moment that I had completely blocked the entrance. I hastily stepped aside and bumped into someone.
When I looked at the person who had barely maintained their balance, I saw it was Felissia.
"I'm sorry," I said hurriedly.
Felissia looked at me with a bright smile, as if nothing had happened. "It doesn't matter, Octavian. I guess you were distracted." Her voice was surprisingly sincere, the complete opposite of her state when she ran from me a few days ago.
This sudden warmth had the opposite effect on me. Alarm bells started ringing in my mind. First that strange escape, now this overly friendly attitude. This girl's instability annoyed me. The 'new me' I was trying to build wasn't programmed to deal with such unpredictable variables.
"Excuse me," I said, unable to prevent the coldness in my voice. "I need to stop by the bathroom."
Without waiting for her response, I walked quickly toward the bathroom at the end of the corridor, pressing my stained sleeve against my body. What did this girl want? What did she expect from me? One day, she ran like a deer that had seen its predator, the next day, she acted like we were closest friends. This inconsistency burned all the circuits in my brain.
I leaned my hands on the cool marble of the sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My face was tense. I turned on the faucet and cupped cold water in my hands, splashing it on my face. I took a deep breath as water droplets trickled from my forehead to my chin. I needed to calm down. But how? On one hand, the strange relief of opening up to Marcus, on the other, Luna's calculated closeness, and then Felissia's mind-confusing attitudes...
My journey of finding personality was becoming more complex than I had thought.
[Same Moment - Amphitheater Classroom - Ella's Perspective]
Seconds remained until class started.
The amphitheater door closed, and the whispers in the massive hall instantly ceased. I shifted restlessly in my seat. My eyes involuntarily kept searching around. Where was Octavian?
We had greeted each other in the corridor just a few minutes ago. As always, I had waved with a sincere smile, and he had responded. Just when I thought he was about to enter, he hesitated momentarily, then quickly headed toward the other side of the corridor. He seemed like he needed to get somewhere. But class was about to start.
Did he skip class? I wondered. No, he wasn't that type. In the short time I had known him, I had realized he was responsible and even a bit overly anxious. I couldn't imagine someone like him deliberately skipping a class with someone like Aurex Cassimar.
I remembered how he had approached me when I asked him a question. Without hesitation, he extended his whole heart and a helping hand. That sincere expression on his face showed he genuinely enjoyed helping people. I didn't want anything bad to happen to such a good person. What they said about the consequences of being late to this class wasn't encouraging. All I could do was make good wishes for him in my heart. "Please," I whispered. "Please don't let anything happen to him."
The amphitheater door opened with a heavy creak, and Professor Aurex Cassimar entered.
It was as if all the air in the hall had been sucked out. He was tall and thin with a bony face. The dark robe he wore made his steps even more imposing. He didn't speak while walking toward the lectern. Only his eyes scanned us individually, like a hunter surveying his prey. At that moment, I felt everyone fall silent and hold their breath. The atmosphere was so tense that if a pin dropped, you could hear it.
The Professor reached the lectern, slowly placed his notes on the desk, and just as he opened his mouth...
The door creaked once more, this time more hesitantly.
All heads turned in that direction. It was Octavian entering. His hair was wet but neatly combed back. He had folded his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. There was momentary surprise on his face, but he looked around with the relief of having made it to class.
The moment his gaze found Professor Cassimar at the lectern, his expression froze. I saw his color drain, his eyes widen in horror. He had literally turned to stone where he stood.
The Professor slowly turned his head toward him. A pleased, almost cruel smile appeared on his face.
"Yes, you," said the Professor, his voice cracking like a whip in the amphitheater. "The latecomer. What were you doing?"
[Same Moment - Amphitheater Classroom]
I had lost track of time.
While looking at my worried face reflected in the bathroom marble, I focused on the stain on my shirt and the confusion in my mind. I hadn't noticed how precious seconds were slipping away while combing my wet hair with my hand to make it perfect. But I couldn't have been that late, I thought. I'm not someone who would dawdle for five minutes. I'm not, am I?
When I came out to the corridor, the absence of anyone in front of the door had relieved me. Everyone must have gone inside. After all, I couldn't be the only one who researched Professor Aurex Cassimar.
But the moment I cracked open the amphitheater door and stepped inside, I knew I was finished.
He was at the lectern. And his piercing gaze had found me from the other end of the hall, drilling into my soul like a drill. Hundreds of eyes turned to me. Whispers suddenly stopped and were replaced by an icy, heavy silence.
The Professor's voice tore through that silence like a whip. "Yes, you. The latecomer. What were you doing?"
My heart started beating in my throat. All the systems in my brain crashed simultaneously. What would I say? The truth? I panicked over a stain... Felissia confused my mind... No. This would be serving my weakness on a platter.
"Aren't you going to answer?" the professor said, his voice impatient. I heard someone from the front row whisper, "Oh no."
My breath had stopped. I parted my lips, but no sound came out. I forced myself.
"Hello, Professor. I... I apologize for... being late." My voice came out like a whisper. I swallowed, trying to pull myself together. "I'm Octavian Corvus."
I took a few steps toward the lectern. Each step felt heavy, as if taken in a swamp. My mind was struggling for an escape route. Say something, quickly! Find an excuse! Make it logical!
"Before entering class, something... a stain got on my hand." The words were pouring from my mouth, but they didn't seem to belong to me. "I'm a bit sensitive about this. I thought there were five minutes until class started, so I went to the bathroom. Until I cleaned the stain, I guess time passed. My hands were wet, and I couldn't look at my watch. I didn't realize I was a minute late."
The Professor raised one eyebrow. There was a mocking expression on his face. The silence in the hall was so intense that I could hear my heartbeat. "Didn't you hear about me, Octavian Corvus? You must have read on the forums and heard what I do to latecomers in friend conversations."
At that moment, adrenaline mixed with fear spread through my veins. This was a game. Either I would sink or I would play this game by his rules.
"I thought that people who... can't stand a valuable professor like you... might have exaggerated comments." The sentence came out broken, but I managed to finish it. "I didn't want to take it seriously."
A shocked intake of breath rippled through the amphitheater. Some people whispered. This was an answer bordering on disrespect.
"But I see," I continued, my voice more determined this time. "Your reputation regarding discipline wasn't an exaggeration. That's why I'm very sorry I was late."
I was surprised at what I had said myself. It was frightening to be able to play this cold, manipulative role so easily.
Professor Aurex remained silent for a moment. The mocking expression on his face disappeared, replaced by a curious glint. Then he laughed lightly. But this wasn't like Gaius's cheerful laughter. It was sharp, intelligent, and dangerous laughter.
"Good, Octavian. Your mouth can talk," he said. "Even though you seem reserved, you're sensitive about getting your hands dirty, right?"
I could only nod. "Yes, Professor."
"Then you have a job in my class," he continued, his eyes sparkling. "Throughout this semester, cleaning my blackboard and photocopying lesson notes is your responsibility. I'm curious to see how clean you can keep those sensitive hands of yours."
Suppressed giggles were heard in the amphitheater. A group in the front rows looked at me with pitying eyes.
The Professor added, "I was actually expecting you to explain your wet hair, too. " He smiled. Now go to your seat."
I silently bowed my head and walked toward the first empty row I could find. My body was moving, but my mind was frozen. What had just happened? I had been punished, yes. But at the same time... I had survived. This wasn't a victory. This was the trembling calm of a ship that had barely escaped a storm.
With the amphitheater watching, I ducked my head and threaded through the steps until an empty seat swallowed me. As I climbed the amphitheater steps, I felt the needle-like gazes of hundreds of eyes on my back. Some were mocking with suppressed smiles, and others looked with pity, as if saying, "This kid has been burned from the first week." I saw Gaius and Cassius's shocked expressions. Marcus was just... worried. His pure worry was somehow what touched me the most.
My eyes scanned the crowd and found Ella. She was looking at me. There was no trace of the previous tension on her face; a soft, relieved smile replaced it. She seemed to say with her eyes, "At least you weren't kicked out of class, I'm glad about that." This small, sincere moment was like a calm harbor in the middle of the storm. I nodded slightly to her.
Then I met another pair of eyes—Myria. She was in this class, too. Her expression was hard to read; there was neither mockery nor pity. She was just surveying me with cold, analytical curiosity, as if watching an experiment in a laboratory. I averted my gaze from her and sat down.
Professor Aurex Cassimar waited until I sat down. Then he began pacing back and forth at the lectern, like a hunter who had trapped his prey.
"This class," he began, echoing throughout the amphitheater, "was not designed to teach you Basic Calculus."
A murmur rose in the hall.
"I'm not here to make you memorize the limits, derivatives, or integrals formulas. This is also written on the tablets the institute distributed to you. The purpose of my class is different." He paused, surveying all of us. "Tell me, what is the purpose of this class?"
Of course, no one dared to answer.
The Professor chose the first person he set his eyes on. In the front rows, there was a boy with glasses. "You. What's your name?"
"Titus, Professor."
"Well, Titus. Tell me. What is the purpose of this class?"
The boy swallowed. "Understanding the basic principles of calculus... and passing the exam, Professor?"
The Professor let out a bitter laugh. "Passing the exam. What a lofty goal! Tell me, Titus, when you memorize a formula and pour it onto paper, does this make you a better person? Smarter? More talented?" While Titus turned bright red, the Professor turned to someone else. He asked the same question to several more people, skillfully burying each of their answers with word games. The atmosphere was getting increasingly tense. This wasn't a class; it was an arena, and Professor Cassimar wound everyone with his sword, woven from words.
Then his gaze found me again. "What about you, Octavian Corvus? My silver-tongued, clean-handed student. Tell me, what is your deep philosophical view on this matter? What is the purpose of this class?"
Everyone turned to me, not with expectation, but with the morbid curiosity of watching a massacre about to happen. I couldn't give a classic answer. He would humiliate me again. In my mind, that short but deep conversation I had with Marcus echoed. Are you satisfied with who you are?
I took a deep breath. "The purpose of this class," I said, my voice surprisingly clear. "Is to understand the fundamental principles of change, Professor. Just as we can calculate a function's instantaneous rate of change, we can also see the rate of change of our potential. To solve the mathematics of that change to become a better version than the person we were yesterday."
A momentary silence fell over the hall. The mocking smile on the Professor's face froze. I saw a glint of surprise in his eyes, just for a moment. But this didn't last even a second.
That belittling expression settled back on his face. "What a poetic answer. Philosophy lesson from our rule-breaking quiet one. But this isn't a poetry school, Corvus. Your purpose in this class is to follow my rules and clean my blackboard. Shall we start with that?"
I didn't answer. I just looked at the tablet in front of me.
The rest of the class went like this: The Professor wrote out the class definition, rules, and expectations one by one. But after each definition, he stopped and talked nonsense. He randomly called on students, asking impossible questions, made fun of their answers, and turned them against each other. He constantly tried to include me in these humiliation sessions, too.
"Do you think your friend gave a correct definition, Corvus? What do you think about his 'rate of change'?"
"I believe every student's interpretation is valuable, Professor."
"So you agree with this idea, huh? Do you think the same as your quiet friend from Heroica?"
"I think different perspectives enrich the subject, Professor."
Each time, I gave respectful but distant, political answers. I neither approved of him nor opposed him. I locked the anger building inside me behind a wall. Without any expression on my face, I just sat and waited for this psychological torture to end. The class was a full three hours, in one block. Fortunately, I was used to this pace from Professor Flavia's mind-wearing classes. When the bell finally rang, it was as if I had emerged from a battle that lasted hours. At least my butt wasn't numb since he kept calling me to stand up. That was something.
[Same Moment - On the Way Back to Office - Aurex's Perspective]
A new semester. New faces. But the same boring souls.
This is what every academic year's beginning is for me. I take the lectern, look at those hopeful, cowardly eyes lined up before me, and feel nothing inside. For them, this is the temple of knowledge, where the future is built. For me... It's an arena that brightens my boring life a little.
All these kids are here with their fathers' money from the Senate or the arrogance of the few formulas they memorized. But the academy is a place for survivors, not memorizers. My duty is simple: separate the wheat from the chaff. Someone who can't withstand pressure from the first week, who collapses mentally, is nothing in the future of the Valerian Republic. Even giving them space is wasteful.
That's why I play my game. I crush those who come with fake, textbook answers one by one. I make those who think they're smart face how stupid they are. This is my entertainment.
Today hadn't started differently. Classic Titus gave a soulless answer like "passing the exam." I see at least ten Tituses every year. Crushing them is as satisfying and as easy as crushing an ant.
Then he answered—the latecomer.
When that innocent child, whose name I learned was Octavian Corvus, appeared at the door, the first enjoyable event of the day had occurred. He was afraid, yes. I could almost hear his heartbeat from where I stood. But he was trying to hide that fear behind a mask. That nonsensical excuse about the stain... was clever. Saying he was sensitive seemed like confessing a weakness, but it was a defense mechanism. Interesting.
But the real show started when I asked about the purpose of the class.
I expected a cliché line from him like the others. But what did he do? "Solving the mathematics of change." This answer wasn't taken from a book. Under that pressure, it was constructed by that mind at that moment. Poetic, yes. Philosophical, yes. But above all, unexpected. This child wasn't just trying to survive the class; he dared to play chess with me.
At that moment, I understood. Octavian Corvus wasn't like the others.
The slippery, political answers he gave to every provocative question I asked during the rest of the class proved this. He didn't take sides, didn't support anyone, didn't condemn anyone. He just managed the situation. Like a diplomat, he danced around words. This was an instinctive talent. This child could think. He could form strategies.
For the first time in years, a student surprised me. I had found a new toy to add color to my boring life. Playing with him would be fun. He wouldn't break at the first blow like the others.
When the bell rang, I smiled involuntarily. While students were gathering to escape as soon as possible, I saw Octavian. He looked tired but undefeated.
Yes, this semester will be fun. Maybe I won't make him drop the class. No, that would end too quickly. When I've found a toy I can play with for years, why should I immediately break it?