The Extra's Rise

"Arthur," Luna said as she materialized next to me in her chibi form, her diminutive figure floating gently above my pillow.

We were alone in my room, the Academy's enhanced security barriers humming faintly in the walls around us. After the Cardinal's attack, there had been a flurry of activity—urgent questions from Eva, concerned glances from Magnus, and Mathias's clinical assessment of the threat. Eventually, they had allowed me to return to my quarters to rest, though I suspected multiple surveillance spells had been activated the moment my door closed.

I patted Luna's head absently, my fingers brushing through her ethereal silver hair. This time, although her golden eyes glinted with mild annoyance, she didn't swat my hand away—a testament to how concerned she must be.

"Thanks," I muttered, my vision blurring slightly as exhaustion and emotional turmoil competed for dominance.

How could Emma be here?

The question repeated itself in an endless loop, each iteration more desperate than the last. Emma—my Emma—from a world without mana, without Gifts, without Cardinals or cults. Emma, who had died in my arms after a senseless accident, her final words lost beneath the wail of approaching sirens. Emma, whose absence had left a void in my heart that even reincarnation into this world couldn't fill.

Did it mean she had somehow traversed the boundary between worlds as I had, becoming the Pope of the Red Chalice cult just as I had become Arthur Nightingale?

Or had her memories, her essence somehow been given to the Pope, creating a hybrid being with Emma's knowledge but the cult leader's ambitions?

Or worse—was she imprisoned within the Pope's consciousness, a prisoner watching helplessly as her captor used intimate details from our shared past to torment me?

My mind scrambled frantically between theories, each more disturbing than the last. The room seemed to constrict around me, the walls pulsing in rhythm with my accelerating heartbeat. I had to understand this. I had to make sense of the impossible.

"Arthur," Luna said, her usually imperious tone softened with something approaching compassion, "don't think about it."

"Don't think about it?" I echoed with a hollow laugh that sounded foreign even to my own ears. "Emma is everything to me. I don't—"

"Arthur Nightingale!" Luna yelled, her tiny form suddenly expanding to fill my field of vision.

She darted forward, her spectral hand tapping my forehead with surprising solidity. The contact didn't hurt, but the gesture—so uncharacteristically physical for Luna—shocked me into silence.

"I said... don't think about it," Luna continued, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "What the hell are you going to do about it with how weak you are? This is one of the Five Cults, Arthur—an organization with power equal to an entire continent. Do you think you can do anything when you can't even touch Resonance yet?"

I stared at Luna, who hovered before me with her tiny arms crossed, her golden eyes blazing with a mix of concern and frustration as she glared at me.

Of course, she was right. Painfully, undeniably right.

What could I do at my current level? Challenge the Pope of the Red Chalice? Demand answers about Emma? I wouldn't last five seconds. I would simply die, achieving nothing but a brief, futile gesture that would be forgotten before my body grew cold.

In the end, all my foreknowledge, all my intelligence, all my careful planning meant nothing against the raw reality of power in this world. I was still far—desperately, achingly far—from being able to take on a Cult.

"And, is Emma the only one who matters?" Luna scoffed, her expression softening slightly despite her harsh words. "Need I remind you of the four girls who gave you a grip on this life? Who pulled you back from the edge of despair when you first arrived in this world, lost and broken?"

I blinked, genuinely startled by Luna's words. Images flashed through my mind: Rachel's gentle healing when I'd first been injured; Cecilia's fierce defense of me against her own royal guards; Rose's quiet wisdom guiding me through my darkest moments; Seraphina's unwavering support, even when it went against her own interests.

Then, I exhaled slowly, the sound seeming to release something tightly coiled within me. I raised my hand and delivered a sharp slap to my own cheek, the sting clearing my mind like a sudden gust of wind dispersing fog.

"Arthur?" Luna said, concern now openly bleeding into her voice, her golden eyes widening at my unexpected action.

"Sorry," I said, managing a small but genuine smile as I met her gaze. "You're right, Luna. I can't afford to obsess over this yet. I'm far too weak."

I straightened my shoulders, taking another deep breath. "If Emma is truly involved with the Red Chalice Cult—whether willingly or unwillingly—I can't help her as I am now. I need to grow stronger, much stronger."

Luna nodded, the tension in her miniature form visibly easing. "Good. For a moment, I thought you were going to do something catastrophically stupid."

"Oh, I'm still probably going to do something stupid," I admitted with a wry half-smile. "Just not catastrophically so. Not yet, anyway."

Luna rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of relief in her expression. "Progress, I suppose."

I leaned back against the headboard, my mind still racing but now with purpose rather than panic. Emma's apparent presence in this world changed everything—recontextualized every assumption I'd made since my reincarnation. But Luna was right; I couldn't act on this revelation until I had the strength to survive the consequences.

_______________________________

The final class of the first semester ended with Professor Nero's trademark efficiency—a concise summary of the semester's key concepts followed by practical applications for the upcoming break.

"Arthur."

I looked up to find myself surrounded. The four girls had converged on my desk with such coordinated precision that I wondered if they'd planned this ambush in advance. Knowing them, they probably had.

Rachel stood closest, her sapphire eyes bright with barely contained excitement. Her golden hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail today—her 'serious business' look, as I'd come to recognize it. Cecilia leaned casually against the desk to my right, her crimson gaze assessing me with characteristic intensity. Seraphina maintained a more dignified distance on my left, her silver hair catching the afternoon sunlight streaming through the high windows. Rose completed the circle, standing directly across from me, her auburn hair framing a gentle smile that somehow made me more nervous than Cecilia's predatory grin.

"We have a question," Rachel announced without preamble.

"Just one?" I replied, raising an eyebrow. "That's unusually restrained for the four of you."

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Don't be difficult. We're interested in your plans for the break."

I carefully packed my tablet into my bag, buying time. The four of them watching me with such focused attention was unnerving, to say the least.

"The Magnus has arranged for special training sessions," I said finally, deciding that honesty was the simplest approach. "I'll be working with him for most of the break."

Rachel said, "We want to know about the time before your training begins. The Magnus doesn't expect you immediately, does he?"

I blinked, suddenly understanding their interest. "Ah. No, he doesn't. I have over a week before I need to report to him."

"And?" Cecilia prompted, leaning closer. "What are your plans for those three days?"

"I'm going home," I said simply. "Back to Avalon City."

Something flickered across their faces—a synchronized reaction so brief I almost missed it. Then, as one, they smiled and straightened.

"I see," Seraphina said, her usual cool demeanor returning. "That sounds... appropriate."

"Quite fitting," Rose agreed with a nod.

"Absolutely necessary," Rachel added, her smile widening.

"Couldn't have planned it better myself," Cecilia concluded with a sudden grin that made me distinctly uneasy.

Before I could question their strange responses, they began to disperse with the same coordinated efficiency with which they had arrived.

"Enjoy your break, Arthur," Rose called over her shoulder.

"And remember that traditional gifts are always appreciated when visiting one's homeland," Seraphina remarked cryptically.

"See you soon, Arthur," Cecilia said with a wink before following the others.

I sat there, momentarily dumbfounded by the bizarre exchange, until a familiar giggle echoed in my mind.