✦ ✧ ✦
Soon after such a misery, I soaked myself into the bathtub.
Oh my… how comforting.
I thought to myself while trying my best to imitate the posture of a normal female teenager — as if that would help me maintain my dignity after everything that just happened.
"So, Miss Mirielle… are you enjoying yourself?"
I responded barely with an affirmative nod.
Nothing else should concern me. For now.
My musky body needed cleansing, so I chose this method to refresh myself — submerge, forget, pretend everything is fine. A proven strategy to survive.
"There are so many things you need to know for this academy's enrollment."
Warmth seeped into every inch of me, almost suspiciously pleasant.
Heavenly, really.
I'd never felt anything like this before — not even in my previous life, and that one had running hot water too.
"Uhm."
The warmth wrapped around me again, like a soft current curling into my bones.
This feels so heavenly…
Nothing would disturb this peace.
Not even whatever random voice was narrating from somewhere deep down.
"Or…"
…Okay, maybe I was imagining things.
Not that those delusions would bother me anyway.
However, maybe life never really went as one may have expected it.
Right?
Just right after that, all of a sudden then, sharp syuutt— sliced through the air.
Thwack!
"Ouch!"
I squeezed my eyes shut to keep water from splashing in.
When I opened them again, I saw someone—
A girl stood there.
A very annoyed blonde-haired girl.
"Hey! That's rude! Wait— you—"
She rolled her eyes so hard I felt personally insulted.
My jaw simply hung open like an idiot.
"H-how?"
"Shocked? As you should be."
The voice came to life.
Literally.
Her body, made of something eerily similar to porcelain, gleamed under the bathroom light. I wasn't mistaken at all.
"So, were you that voice earlier?"
She sighed, as if my question was exactly as rational as her all of a sudden appearance out of the blue, thin air.
"Perhaps you shouldn't refer to me as the source of your paranoia."
I'm not a control freak.
Or that's what I wanted to say.
"Not really. I just… assumed you were my sanity check, no?"
Thwack!
Another one. Great.
I was being physically disciplined by my own hallucination.
"Stop it! Who are you?"
She looked displeased by the question.
No — she was pissed.
"It looks like I haven't taught you a lesson."
"I'm practically your personal assistant, Miss Mirielle."
Time slipped strangely after that.
"A humanoid artificial intelligence."
A humanoid what?
Never in any of my lives had I seen a doll this beautiful.
One second she had been plastered into the wall like shattered porcelain, and the next she stepped out of it — calm, composed, and far too elegant for someone who'd just delivered two consecutive head-smacks.
"What do you mean?"
She clenched her fist, porcelain joints clicking softly.
"Alright. It means I despise humanity but have been programmed to be their involuntary volunteer. Understood?"
"I see. But you haven't even introduced yourself."
I placed a hand on my chest, trying to regain dignity I never had.
"You may refer to me as the NeuraAI prototype model v9.5 with code series number Z53728."
She paused.
A slow, irritated breath escaped her.
"…However, you insisted on giving me a name. A completely unnecessary one."
"Which is?"
She looked away, cheeks puffing very slightly — the closest thing a porcelain being could get to embarrassment.
"Annie," she muttered.
Then louder, snapping her gaze back at me:
"And don't get the wrong idea, Miss Mirielle — I only accepted that name because you refused to remember my actual designation, not because I have any fondness for humanity, sentimentality, or whatever emotional malfunction mortals call 'attachment.' Clear?"
I blinked.
That was… a lot of words.
She crossed her arms, porcelain eyes narrowing.
"Also," she added, "next time you take a bath, please refrain from nearly drowning yourself. Your oxygen levels dropped for three seconds."
"I was relaxing."
"You were dying."
"Same thing," I shrugged.
Her left eye twitched — a little porcelain crack forming at the corner.
"Miss Mirielle," she said flatly,
"I was not built for this."
"Too late," I said, sinking deeper into the warm water, "you're stuck with me now."
She sighed.
A long, defeated sigh — the sound of a machine realizing its greatest flaw wasn't mechanical, but me.
"Unfortunately," she said, "I am."
Annie glanced up from her clipboard, her brows furrowing slightly as if weighing how much to reveal.
Okay, no. Wait, since when she was holding that?
"Now, stick to the topic… first, there's the morning briefing. Then a few rounds of drills, depending on who's on duty." She tapped a page, then tilted her head.
"Alright. What are they?"
"You're new, right? I can tell you briefly."
I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady even though my limbs felt like lead.
"Yeah… that sounds perfect."
Her eyes softened a little.
She then glanced at me, her smirk faint but appears to be all-knowing.
"Sure. Here's how the rundown looks like: first, the trial exam for class placement—you'll want to impress others with your skills there; it sets your enrollment. Next, drama rehearsal. Somewhat a little chaos. Once it's done, the S-tier incantation spell invitations—top students will get called, so don't be swayed."
This was a bit too much...
"Following that are the battle spell drills and combat duels; messy, but doable if you stick to the basics. Later, prom night—do not be distracted by the decorations or the excitement. And finally… the Pneumagram exam. That one's grave; it'll prove you've got everything that it takes, so get ready to prepare yourself."
Wait, there's more?!
I forced a blunt smile, though my mind was already running through questions I didn't dare ask out loud, considering it was all not so oblivious anymore.
Instead, I let her words settle within, masking the curiosity that buzzed behind my exhaustion. Or what ever it was that overwhelmed my feelings currently.
"So," I said after a beat, "any… surprises I should brace for today?"
Annie's smirk hinted she knew exactly what she was doing, making me wonder if pretending to know what I was doing was going to be more exhausting than the actual day.
"Nothing. Just predictable chaos."
I swallowed, letting her words settle. "Predictable chaos, huh?"
"Yes," she said with a shrug,
"if you keep your head down and follow the stream. Stick close, then don't let curiosity run wild—there's plenty of time to wonder about the rest once you survive the day,"
"Miss Mirielle."