The Restricted Archives.
A place where knowledge wasn't just stored—it was hidden. Locked away from students, even nobles, except for a select few. It was said that only those deemed "worthy" by the academy's standards were allowed past its iron gates.
And, according to my student file… I was one of them.
That single fact changed everything.
I wasn't just some helpless character thrown into this world. I had an advantage—an opening.
And I was going to use it.
I moved carefully, keeping to the academy's less-traveled hallways. It was late enough that most students had already retired to their dorms, but I couldn't afford to be careless.
Claude Ashford had already noticed something. If she started looking into me, I'd have more than just the academy's rules to worry about.
I needed to move now, before she or anyone else got in my way.
The Restricted Archives were located in the east wing, behind a set of reinforced doors guarded by a thick enchantment. Any normal student trying to enter would be caught immediately.
But I wasn't normal.
I took a deep breath, pulling out my book and flipping it open.
The pages were still as ominous as before, ink swirling faintly at the edges. My last attempt at rewriting my status had failed, but small, subtle changes still worked.
I tapped the quill against the parchment, my mind racing.
"For the next ten minutes, the archive's security spells weaken."
The ink sank into the pages.
A few seconds later, the glow around the doors flickered. The magic protecting them dimmed just slightly—not enough for anyone to notice, but enough for me to slip through.
I pressed my palm against the cold iron.
Click.
The lock released.
I exhaled, pushing the heavy door open just enough to step inside.
The moment I entered, the atmosphere shifted.
The air was heavier here, dense with something ancient. The torches lining the stone walls burned with an unnatural blue hue, their flickering light casting strange shadows.
Rows upon rows of bookshelves stretched into the darkness, each packed with forbidden knowledge.
Spells. Rituals. Secrets that could alter the world.
I had no idea what I was looking for.
But I knew what I needed—power.
Something to close the gap between me and the ones standing above me. Something to ensure I never had to suffer through the humiliation of being weak in this world.
I moved quickly, scanning the labels on the shelves.
"Illusions & Mental Magic" – No. Too subtle."Cursed Artefacts & Forbidden Relics" – Too risky."Blood Magic & Sacrificial Rites" – …Tempting, but dangerous.
Then, my eyes landed on something different.
A single, dust-covered tome, hidden behind layers of untouched scrolls.
Unlike the others, it had no title. No markings. Just a simple black cover, worn at the edges.
I reached for it, my fingers brushing against the rough leather.
The moment I touched it, pain shot through my skull.
A voice—no, whispers—crawled into my mind, twisting around my thoughts like a parasite.
⟡ "Who seeks forbidden knowledge?" ⟡
I staggered back, my breath catching in my throat.
The book… was alive.
I tightened my grip. "I do."
The whispers curled around my consciousness, shifting. Testing.
Then—
⟡ "Prove yourself." ⟡
Darkness flooded my vision.
And suddenly, I was somewhere else.