For the first time since arriving at Galia Military Academy...
I slept.
A glorious one.
The kind of sleep usually reserved for people who had spent the previous week punching their way through the freshman rankings.
Outside, the academy was alive.
Sunday in Peroza was a sacred day.
Not because the Empire demanded it.
Because people genuinely believed.
The world of Avalon was a place where gods existed.
Nobody debated that.
Miracles happened too often.
Divine Classes appeared too frequently.
Priests occasionally performed things that violated common sense.
Faith wasn't a question.
Only which god deserved it.
From my dormitory window I could hear distant bells ringing across Ero.
Students moved through the academy grounds dressed in colorful clothing instead of uniforms.
Many wore religious ornaments.
Moon-shaped pendants.
Animal head necklaces.
Silver wheels.
Golden hammers.
Some painted ritual patterns across their cheeks.
Others carried prayer books.
A few groups had already left for temples within the city.
Everyone had somewhere to be.
Everyone except me.
Because I had absolutely no intention of spending my one free morning doing anything remotely productive.
Back on Earth, I had never been particularly religious.
That hadn't changed.
If anything, gods actually existing somehow made me even less interested.
It felt awkward worshipping something when I had technically written half of them.
So while the rest of the academy sought enlightenment...
I chose sleep.
A superior alternative.
At least in my opinion.
The blanket won.
Decisively.
When I opened my eyes again, the room was quiet.
The sunlight had shifted.
The bells had stopped.
And someone was sitting on the edge of my bed.
I didn't panic.
Which was probably concerning.
A normal person would panic.
I simply sighed.
Astaroso: You know, most people use doors.
The figure tilted her head.
A faint smile touched pale lips.
[%$#@&!]: I've never been particularly normal.
Fair.
That was difficult to argue against.
She looked different.
Much different.
The last time I had seen her, she had resembled an unfinished idea.
A silhouette wrapped in static and darkness.
Now...
Now she almost looked human.
Almost.
Pale skin.
Long black hair that seemed to absorb light itself.
Not dark.
Not shadowed.
Simply black in a way reality wasn't supposed to be.
Like someone had torn a piece from the void and shaped it into hair.
Her eyes remained unchanged.
Entire galaxies drifted within them.
Stars moved where pupils should have been.
Constellations lived and died beneath her gaze.
Darkness draped over her body like a living cloak.
When she crossed her legs, part of that darkness shifted slightly, revealing pale skin before swallowing it again.
The room felt smaller around her.
Not dangerous.
Just aware.
Like reality knew she was there.
And wasn't entirely comfortable with it.
Neither was I.
[%$#@&!]: You seem to be enjoying yourself.
I pushed myself upright slightly.
Astaroso: Haven't seen you since the Awakening.
[%$#@&!]: You survived.
Astaroso: That was the goal.
[%$#@&!]: I noticed.
A brief pause followed.
Then:
[%$#@&!]: You've made friends.
I frowned.
Astaroso: That's a strong word.
[%$#@&!]: It is.
Astaroso: I'd call them acquaintances.
[%$#@&!]: Would they agree?
That was a dangerous question.
I wisely chose not to answer.
Her smile widened slightly.
Apparently silence counted as an answer.
Traitorous silence.
For several moments neither of us spoke.
The quiet wasn't uncomfortable.
Strangely enough.
It felt familiar.
Like speaking to someone I hadn't seen in years.
Someone who already knew most of the answers.
Astaroso: So.
I leaned back against the headboard.
Astaroso: What do you think?
[%$#@&!]: About what?
Astaroso: The world.
The galaxies within her eyes shifted slowly.
Beautifully.
[%$#@&!]: Difficult question.
Astaroso: You've had time.
[%$#@&!]: A long time.
She looked toward the window.
Toward the city beyond.
Toward Avalon.
[%$#@&!]: I think it grew beyond what anyone expected.
My expression softened.
That answer felt honest.
More honest than anything she'd said before.
Astaroso: I remember writing most of it.
[%$#@&!]: You remember fragments.
Astaroso: Fair.
[%$#@&!]: You remember outlines.
Astaroso: Also fair.
[%$#@&!]: The world remembers everything.
That was significantly less comforting.
Outside, distant bells began ringing again.
Somewhere across the city.
A temple service perhaps.
Or a prayer gathering.
The sound drifted through the open window.
She listened quietly.
Then:
[%$#@&!]: Do you miss your old world?
I wasn't expecting that.
The question lingered.
Heavy.
Complicated.
I thought about it.
Earth.
My apartment.
My computer.
Cheap takeout.
The internet.
Hot showers.
Air conditioning.
Not dying during combat training.
Several things came to mind.
Astaroso: I miss parts of it.
[%$#@&!]: Only parts?
I looked out the window.
Students crossed the academy grounds below.
Some laughed.
Others argued.
Life continued.
Astaroso: I don't miss being alone.
The answer escaped before I could stop it.
Silence followed.
Not awkward.
Just thoughtful.
She looked at me.
Really looked at me.
For the first time.
And something changed in her expression.
Something sad.
Something old.
[%$#@&!]: I understand.
The words carried a weight I couldn't explain.
A few minutes passed.
Conversation drifted naturally.
We spoke about the academy.
About the absurdity of freshmen.
About how Ceal somehow remained one of the most terrifying people on campus despite acting completely normal.
That last part concerned us both.
Eventually she laughed.
Actually laughed.
A quiet sound.
Warm.
Human.
The realization startled me more than any prophecy ever had.
Because for a brief moment...
She didn't feel like a cosmic entity.
She felt like a friend.
The moment didn't last.
Nothing ever did.
The darkness around her shifted.
The stars inside her eyes dimmed slightly.
I recognized the signs immediately.
She was leaving.
Astaroso: Already?
Her gaze met mine.
[%$#@&!]: I shouldn't stay too long.
Astaroso: Why?
A strange expression crossed her face.
One I couldn't quite understand.
[%$#@&!]: Because this world can't withstand.
That sounded ominous.
Which unfortunately meant she was probably being honest.
She stood.
The shadows around her unfolded like living silk.
The room darkened slightly.
Not from fear.
From absence.
As though reality already missed her.
At the doorway she paused.
Well.
Near the doorway.
Neither of us were pretending she needed doors anymore.
I glanced toward her.
Astaroso: You still haven't told me who you are.
For the first time all morning...
The stars in her eyes brightened.
A faint smile appeared.
Then something flashed through my thoughts.
A name.
Or perhaps the beginning of one.
[%$#@&!]:
The memory immediately broke apart.
Like shattered glass.
Gone before I could grasp it.
She seemed unsurprised.
[%$#@&!]: I know.
Astaroso: Helpful.
[%$#@&!]: I try.
Astaroso: You absolutely do not.
That earned another laugh.
Then she began to disappear.
Darkness unraveling into fragments of light.
Stars dissolving into the morning air.
Until only her voice remained.
Soft.
Distant.
Familiar.
[%$#@&!]: Enjoy your Sunday, Benjamin.
A pause.
Then:
[%$#@&!]: You've earned it.
And just like that—
She was gone.
The room became normal again.
The sunlight returned.
The pressure vanished.
The world resumed.
I stared at the empty space she'd occupied.
Then sighed.
Then fell backward onto the bed.
The ceiling greeted me.
Silently.
Honestly.
Unlike certain mysterious cosmic women.
Outside, the academy continued celebrating its holy day.
Inside, I closed my eyes again.
Just for a little longer.
After all...
The gods weren't going anywhere.
And neither was my bed.
At least one of those things could be trusted.