“Uh–huh?”
The next day, on his way to his office, Vanitas stopped in his tracks, startled by the sudden commotion ahead.
——Is Professor Astrea still not here?
——We came back today like you said, Miss Assistant. Isn’t it time for him to show up?
——Yes, yes. He’ll be here soon, so please! This is so embarrassing….
A group of elderly men in robes were kneeling in front of Karina, who stood awkwardly by the door to his office.
“That was fast,” Vanitas muttered.
A thesis review usually took at least a week, sometimes two, before verification.
He had submitted his thesis only two days ago. Yet, here they were, apparently having waited since yesterday while he was on leave.
“Not surprising.”
Given the content of the thesis he’d submitted, this kind of urgency was inevitable.
The content of his thesis likely left no room for a standard review process. Its unconventional nature had probably pushed them to act quickly.
While there were usually procedures to avoid wasting time, this situation was different.
Vanitas Astrea was an official professor of the Silver University Tower. His profession alone demanded a certain level of attention and importance.
“I’m here,” Vanitas said, approaching.
“Ah, finally! Professor Astrea, I presume?” one of the older men asked, most likely a scholar.
“Yes, that’s me. Are you here about the thesis?”
“Yes,” the scholar replied. “We’re here to conduct a verification check. No offense, but you understand the procedure, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
Their skepticism was expected.
The thesis contained groundbreaking ideas, and Vanitas had only one prior achievement that wasn’t especially remarkable.
He knew he would have to prove his work’s validity, or else it would be dismissed as baseless rambling.
Moments later, urged by the scholars, Vanitas left with them.
“Sigh,” Karina muttered, leaning on the doorframe as she watched them walk away.
As she turned back, a student approached, looking as though they had just arrived.
“Hello,” the student greeted. “Is the professor still not here?”
“He just left,” Karina replied.
The student, Anastasia Gambino, was a third-year who had recently returned to resume her studies at the University Tower. She had been looking for Professor Vanitas the day before.
“Oh, I see,” Anastasia said. “Thank you, Miss. I’ll come back later.”
Anastasia turned and walked away. Just as Karina was about to close the door, another student showed up.
“Miss Karina, is the professor back?” the student asked.
It was Astrid.
“Yes, but he just left,” Karina said.
“Again?” Astrid sighed, clearly disappointed. “What about his lecture this afternoon?”
“I’m not sure,” Karina said, “He hasn’t given me any instructions. There’s a chance it might be canceled again today. He’s been busy after submitting a new thesis.”
“A new thesis?” Astrid’s eyes lit up in excitement. She wanted to read it—no, she needed to read it!
But she hesitated. Even though she was Professor Vanitas’s self–proclaimed favorite student, she knew how strict he was. He wouldn’t let her see it.
“Please let me know when he returns, Miss Karina.”
But she wanted to try her luck anyway.
“Of course,” Karina replied.
“Thank you.”
Astrid nodded and left.
Moments later, as Karina reached for the door again, another student appeared.
“Miss Assistant.”
“….”
It was Ezra.
“….Yes, Ezra, what is it?”
“Is the professor—”
“No, he’s not here,” Karina cut in. “He left.”
“Oh, I see,” Ezra said before turning to leave.
Karina wasted no time shutting the door.
“Gosh. When did the professor get this popular?!”
For some reason, it felt nice, like being a fan of an underrated artist for years and finally seeing them get the recognition they deserved.
***
Inside the Scholars Institute, a crowd of scholars had gathered to witness the verification of Vanitas Astrea’s groundbreaking thesis.
“….”
Standing confidently at the center, as though presenting a masterpiece, Vanitas began explaining the first part of his work.
But unbeknownst to the audience, his entire script had been prepared and was stored within the spectacles.
“The Foundation Circuit was initially conceptualized as a way to assist my students during their first examination.”
His words immediately captured the scholars’ attention, garnering respect for both his dedication to education and his way of thinking.
“It is a structural coalition of nodes within a spellformula. By connecting these nodes dynamically, akin to the patterns of a constellation, it redefines the conventional framework of a spell’s construction.”
Vanitas glanced around, maintaining eye contact while remaining calm and composed.
Absolute confidence was necessary.
“In traditional circuits, formulas like ignition, absolute zero, faultlines, abiogenesis, and water origin are treated as separate pathways. The challenge lies in synchronizing these disparate elements without destabilizing the formula.
The formulas were important to all forms of essences, such as; Aether, Pyro, Aqua, Gaia, Zephyr, and Umbra.
“The Foundation Circuit addresses this by synthesizing these essences into a unified core, essentially condensing all processes into a single node.”
He paused, scanning the room to ensure his audience was following.
“This unified core allows for faster circuit construction, which significantly improves efficiency. Moreover, once mastered, the implementation of this system shortens incantation times. By eliminating redundancies within the traditional circuits, the Foundation Circuit streamlines the entire process.”
Vanitas took a step forward, holding his hand up toward the projection.
“In simpler terms, the Foundation Circuit integrates essential spell elements into a singular cohesive bond. The core functions as both the anchor and the catalyst, maintaining stability while enabling dynamic adaptability across varying spell structures.”
The scholars whispered among themselves.
——This is insane. Has anyone ever heard of such a concept before?
——No, be quiet.
They were clearly intrigued. Vanitas’s explanation had already sparked discussions about the potential applications of his work.
“With the Foundation Circuit, we are no longer limited by the constraints of conventional spell formulas. This is a step forward in both theory and practical application.”
And that was just the first topic of his thesis. Vanitas’s explanations flowed seamlessly.
Whenever a scholar thought of a question, it felt as though Vanitas had read their minds. He answered their unspoken inquiries through his clear and thorough presentation.
The second topic followed, then the third, then the fourth. Each explanation was flawless.
When the content became increasingly technical, Vanitas’s eloquence and mastery of delivery kept the scholars engaged, making even the most complex ideas understandable.
By the time he reached the sixth and final topic, he had opened doors to entirely new possibilities in the field of magic.
It was revolutionary.
When he finished, the scholars were left stunned.
——….Is this even possible?
——The theory checks out. But to implement this practically….
Vanitas remained calm, watching their reactions.
“Any further questions?” he asked.
One of the scholars stood. “Professor Astrea…. this is beyond remarkable. Have you begun testing these methods in real-world applications?”
Vanitas nodded. “Yes. Preliminary tests done by my students have already shown a significant reduction in spell preparation times, alongside improved stability in complex formulas. With further refinement, the results should surpass our current understanding.”
Another scholar leaned forward. “How long do you think it will take for this to become mainstream?”
“That depends,” Vanitas said. “On how quickly the community embraces it. Change is often met with resistance.”
If one thought deeply, it seemed as though Vanitas was giving away his own advantage to the world.
But in a world where a hospital bed could be his ending, arming his students with such a tool was a decision he had already accepted.
If he couldn’t reach the true ending before his death, perhaps Ezra, Astrid, Charlotte, and the rest of his students would come together to complete it in his stead.
“….”
No, it wouldn’t just be them.
Perhaps other mages across the world would take this and build upon it.
Even if it was misused, the playing field would eventually level—everyone would have the same access to this power.
Besides, they’d still need to chant.
Vanitas, however, could cast magic effortlessly, without uttering a single word.
He wasn’t truly losing an advantage. If anything, it might even explain his unmatched speed in casting.
“Will that be all?” Vanitas asked, glancing around. “If so, I’ll conclude my presentation here.”
With the Q&A portion complete, the verdict was reached quickly.
His thesis was deemed highly important and approved for publication.
A few hours later, Vanitas was approached by Tristan, the scholar who had introduced himself earlier.
Tristan, an elder of the Scholars Institute, had been the one responsible for inviting Vanitas and oversaw the verification of his thesis.
“Professor Astrea,” Tristan began. “Your work has left us deeply impressed. Few publications have garnered this level of attention in such a short time.”
Vanitas nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Tristan continued, “The Scholars Institute plans to push for widespread implementation. However, with something this impactful, you must be prepared for scrutiny from opposing factions.”
“I’ve already taken that into account,” Vanitas replied. “Resistance is natural, but the truth of the work will stand on its own.”
Tristan smiled. “I admire your confidence. That said, if you require any support or resources for further development, don’t hesitate to ask. The institute recognizes your potential and intends to back you fully.”
“I appreciate the offer. I’ll keep it in mind.”
The drafts for publication, prepared by Karina and polished by Vanitas, were now being reviewed and processed by Tristan.
As they worked, Vanitas saw the opportunity to bring up a different topic.
“Elder Tristan,” he began. “I’d like to request a favor.”
“What is it, Professor?” Tristan asked, looking up.
“There’s another thesis I’d like to submit for publication. It’s not my own, but one written by a student of mine a few years ago. I’d like it to be published under their name.”
“That’s possible,” Tristan said. “But the student would need to present it themselves for verification.”
“I understand. But circumstances make it difficult for the student to appear. Still, I’d like you to take a look.”
Vanitas slid a separate document across the table. Tristan picked it up and began scanning the pages.
“This is… impressive work,” Tristan said after a moment. “I don’t understand why they never submitted it. This spell is an incredible achievement. The student must have been exceptionally talented.”
“They were.”
Tristan paused, tapping the paper lightly.
“If the student can’t appear in person, we’ll need an alternative method to verify authorship. Perhaps a written statement or correspondence?”
“It might take some time, but I’ll handle it,” Vanitas replied. “What matters is that this work gets the recognition it deserves.”
Tristan nodded slowly. “Alright. Very well, then. I’ll do what I can on my end.”
***
“Lights. Camera. Action.”
The drama club began their rehearsal under the direction of Alya, the club president and the play’s official director.
Despite playing the lead role of Professor Valen, Silas, as the assistant director, couldn’t help but chime in with suggestions.
“Charlotte, try pausing a bit longer before you say that line,” Silas suggested, gesturing toward the script. “It’ll give the audience time to feel Elise’s hesitation.”
Charlotte nodded, adjusting her stance. “Got it.”
Alya clapped her hands. Clap—!
“Alright, from the top. Focus, people!”
The cast repositioned themselves while the crew worked behind the scenes. Lights were adjusted, props were checked, and the sound crew ran through their cues.
There was a sense of collaboration as everyone worked to refine their parts. Laughter occasionally broke out when someone screwed up a line, or tripped over a prop.
Charlotte’s delivery was excellent. While there was room for improvement, she had undoubtedly acclimated to her role as Elise.
Silas, however, was something else entirely.
His portrayal of Professor Valen felt almost too real.
It was as if he had met the character in real life, studied his every move, and brought him to life on stage.
His mannerisms, his tone, even the way he carried himself—everything practically screamed authenticity.
During a brief pause, Charlotte glanced at Silas.
“You know, the way you play Valen…. it’s like you’re not even acting.”
For actors, that was one of the highest compliments they could receive.
“Is that so?” Silas smirked. “Maybe I’ve got a little Professor Valen in me.”
“….Right.”
Charlotte laughed softly, but deep down, a strange unease settled in her chest.
The way Silas spoke, the way he moved, it all felt oddly familiar.
The more she rehearsed scenes between Elise and Valen, the more it felt like she wasn’t acting with Silas at all.
It felt like she was talking to her brother, Vanitas. Or rather, who he used to be.
***
“Uekh!”
Vanitas coughed up blood again. Yves had warned him this could be a side effect of the treatment, but it was still a nuisance.
Turning on the faucet, Vanitas stared at his reflection in the mirror.
“….”
The past few weeks had been hectic due to his packed schedule, but that wasn’t his main concern.
“Whew.”
He thought he’d done well since his arrival in this world.
He had worked to push back the old Vanitas’s influence.
Though he retained some traits—his strictness, his natural eloquence, and his ability to captivate others with his words—he saw those as positive aspects.
They were qualities that demanded respect and ensured he wouldn’t be treated as a pushover.
Just the other day, a scholar had brought up rumors of his past misdeeds. There was no evidence, just word of mouth.
Yet, in that moment, he felt a surge from within—something from the old Vanitas.
A sense of….
…Erasing the person.
Not through death, but by ruining their family, their reputation, their very existence. He knew the old Vanitas operated that way—he’d seen glimpses of it himself.
Day by day, fragments of the original Vanitas’s actions surfaced in his dreams.
They were vague and scattered, and had no importance on the lingering questions in his mind, but nevertheless, they were enough to linger in his thoughts.
But Vanitas pushed them back.
He wasn’t the same person, nor did he intend to become that person.
But he couldn’t deny it. Those fragments were growing stronger with each passing day.
There were people he knew he had never met, yet the original Vanitas had.
And through those interactions, he felt a range of emotion.
Distrust, disdain, trust, admiration, disgust, dislike, pity, and surprisingly, sympathy.
These feelings, remnants of the original Vanitas, seemed tied to a variety of people.
Still, he used these lingering emotions as a guide on how he interacted with people. To carefully gauge how to approach them.
Sometimes, it was hard to tell where he ended and where the original Vanitas began.
His interactions, his approach to others, even his demeanor—it all felt uncanny to the original Vanitas.
“Sigh.”
He truly couldn’t tell anymore.
“….”
Vanitas glanced at his pocket watch and tucked it away.
“Ah.”
It was time to collect the loans owed to him once again.