Faculty Lounge
The faculty lounge was unusually quiet, save for the occasional clink of teacups and the heavy sighs of overworked professors. A long wooden table sat at the center, its surface worn smooth from years of discussions—some trivial, others far more concerning.
Tonight was one of the latter.
Professor Malina, the academy's leading theoretical instructor, leaned forward, rubbing her temples, frustration clear in her voice.
"I got no idea on how should i handle his situation anymore."
"He learns too fast. I give him anything, and he solves it in seconds. At this point, I feel like I'm just wasting his time."
Across the table, Professor Varean, the academy's leading combat instructor, let out a low chuckle—one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Try teaching him, then come talk to me."
"Huh?"
"You picking up a fight"
"Joking i was just joking"
The others gave him a questioning look, as he exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair.
"I sparred with one of those earlier today. He was full of himself so i thought I'd go easy at first, you know, let him get a feel for it. Big mistake. I had to actually put in effort just to keep control of the fight. Effort!"
His voice held in mix of concern and disbelief.
"I still won, obviously, but give him another month? I don't know if I'll be able to say the same."
Professor Callian, the academy's leading mage, grinned. Unlike the others, he looked downright pleased.
"My one nullified an S-tier spell. With a snap of his fingers."
"Though i put him in his place after that"
Professor Malina, frustrated
"Humm did you It feels to me that you guys are just bragging about beating them to me"
Everyone silence trembling in fear of her.
Callian breaking the scilence.
"Well-well.....back to the topic"
"That kind of talent doesn't just happen. It's once in a lifetime. A prodigy like that? He'll be the strongest mage in the world before long. And when he is, guess who'll be remembered as the teacher who shaped him?"
Professor Malina shot him a look, unimpressed.
"Another bragging you old head"
"You sure you want to be remembered for that?"
Callian frowned.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means there's a fine line between being admired and being feared."
The room fell silent.
Varean sighed. Continuing the conversation.
"They're different from the other students. It's not just skill—it's something else entirely. They're reaching levels people hope to reach in their lives chasing.
"When you get to that level, the world seems fragile like a piece of hollow glass ball that could break the moment they stopped taking it into consideration"
More-More-More-More....
"It's sure is hell of a lonely and frustrating feeling"
Professor malina
"And they sure are troublesome kids with full head attitude"
"So… what do we do?"
No one answered.
Because the truth was, none of them knew.
Academy Library
The Great Library of Athearwood was silent, save for the faint scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional rustle of turning pages. The scent of old books lingered in the air, thick with knowledge and dust.
Among the towering shelves, a lone girl carefully carried an armful of books, stacked so high they wobbled with every step.
Almost there… just a little further…
She reached her desk, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to lower the books gently.
But the moment she let go—
The stack tipped.
Her breath caught. Reflexively, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable crash. The resounding thud that would draw the attention of the entire library.
But it never came.
Slowly, hesitantly, she opened one eye. Then the other.
The books were neatly stacked on the desk, perfectly still. As if they had never fallen in the first place.
Her breath hitched.
And then she noticed him.
Standing in front of her was:
The infamous prodigy.
She hadn't seen him move. Hadn't heard a single sound. But somehow, in the blink of an eye, he had stopped the books from falling, placing them back with effortlessly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Theo simply turned and walked away, as if nothing had happened. His expression unreadable as always. The act was effortless, a reflex more than a conscious decision.
But for her, everything had.
Because for the first time, at that moment she truly understood—
Some people weren't just gifted.
They were in a league of their own.
The girl blinked, still trying to comprehend what had just happened. She wanted to call out, maybe thank him, but the words stuck in her throat. She hesitated, thinking about the rumors, the stories. How he was different.
Something she couldn't put her finger on. It was as if she was standing at the edge of an abyss, peering into the unknown, and she wasn't sure if it was safe to step forward.
For a long moment, she stood there, wondering if she should just let him be—if her gratitude would even matter to someone like him.
Theo walked away from the girl without a word, his expression unreadable as always. He had no interest in the unnecessary attention that came from being him.
He could already hear the whispers behind him, hushed voices passing between the students who had witnessed the scene.
"That was Theo, right?"
"Yeah…. How did he move that fast?"
"He's terrifying."
That one stung. Not because it was cruel, but because he'd heard it too many times before.
I should've taken a different route.
I don't blame them, though. When someone like me exists, there's always going to be fear.
A person too smart, too capable. A mind so sharp it cuts through everything. The professors are worried, the students are wary, and the whole damn academy treats me like a sleeping dragon—one bad day away from burning everything down.
Plucked a random book form the self as i keep walking, tuning them out. It's not worth my time. None of it ever is.
People think person like me get bored. That boredom turns to restlessness. Restlessness turns to destruction. It's a stupid assumption, but I don't blame them for it. History has enough cautionary tales to make anyone paranoid. People with power—true power—eventually sought control.
It's one of the oldest stories in history.
And maybe, if I were someone else, they'd be right.
The professors are probably in the faculty lounge right now having "What do we do about Theo and other students like me?" discussion.
"He learns too fast."
"There's nothing left to teach him."
"It's unnatural."
They expect me to snap one day. Go rogue. Become a villain out of sheer frustration that the world isn't fast enough for me. Which is to be expected but:
Boredom is not staring at a problem and solving it too quickly. It's not beating every opponent with ease. It's not being the smartest guy in the room.
It's having no reason to try in the first place.
No-No-No-No-No-No...
Theo-Theo-Theo-Theo....
I have been in places where nothing mattered. Where nothing could matter. Where every move I made, every skill I honed, every ounce of intelligence I had—it all led to the same outcome.
That kind of boredom? That's the real killer.
And maybe that's why I do what I do.
Not because I want to be some misunderstood genius. Not because I need people to see me as good.
Not because I have to. Not because I'm trying to prove anything. Just because… why wouldn't I?
People for some reason don't get that.
Opened the random book that I plucked from the shelf before, flipping through it as I walk. Not really reading, just letting my eyes skim over words, absorbing them in the background.
I hear footsteps behind me.
Light ones. Hesitant.
I don't turn. I don't have to.
The girl from earlier. The one with the books.
She stops a few paces away. Doesn't say anything at first. Just stands there, probably gathering her thoughts, probably wondering how to phrase whatever it is she wants to say without sounding stupid.
I keep flipping through the book, waiting.
Finally—
"Um…"
I don't look up. Not yet.
"I just wanted to say—thank you."
Her voice is quiet. Sincere. Not the usual nervous, fearful stammer I get from most people.
I snap the book shut with one hand. Not loudly, but enough that the soft thump echoes in the silence between us. Then, finally, I glance at her.
She flinches. Just barely. A twitch of the fingers, a slight shift in posture—people wouldn't notice. I do.
She recovers quickly. Stands her ground. Good.
"For earlier," she clarifies. "With the books."
I tilt my head slightly, watching her.
Something about the way she says it tells me she isn't just thanking me for the books.
I could brush it off. Shrug. Say nothing and walk away.
The infamous prodigy. The enigma. The cold, detached genius who doesn't bother with small talk.
I finally spoke.
"Don't mention it."
Her brow furrows, confused. "But—"
She blinks. She looks at me like she's trying to solve a puzzle.
"You don't seem like the type who just wants to do things for people."
I huff a quiet laugh at that.
"Maybe."
A pause.
Then, instead of pressing further, she just nods and accepts it.
That's new.
I turn to leave, my mind back into the book.
"Try not to drop them next time."
Said as i start walking away.
I hear her huff in exasperation. Then, softer.
"Still. Thank you."
Huh the infamous prodigy. The enigma. The cold, detached genius who doesn't bother with small talk.
I didn't respond.