The Extra's Transcension

A moment of silence stretched in the dimly lit room.

Lyrium clenched his fist, feeling the power hum beneath his fingertips.

The sensation was intoxicating yet… suffocating.

Like standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down into the abyss, knowing it was staring back.

He exhaled.

Then…

Knock.

Knock.

Before Lyrium could even answer, the door swung open.

"Yo! You alive in there?"

Ren.

With his usual lazy grin and half-lidded, carefree eyes, he strolled in as if he owned the place.

His white shirt hung loosely off his shoulders, and his silver hair…almost glowing under the dim light…was as messy as ever.

"Still brooding, huh?"

Ren teased, flopping onto Lyrium's bed without hesitation.

"Dude, if you keep this up, you'll turn into one of those tragic antiheroes who forgets how to have fun. Tragic."

Lyrium sighed.

"Do you ever knock?"

"Do you ever have a social life?"

Ren shot back, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Seriously, you didn't show up for dinner. I had to eat alone. Alone, Lyrium. Can you even imagine my suffering?"

Lyrium rolled his eyes.

"Dramatic as always. And You've gott your new friends right?"

"Hey, it's a serious crime to abandon your best friend during mealtime, And Silas and Lily are flirting with each other. My eyes really heart looking at them"

"…"

Ren declared, crossing his arms.

"What were you even doing, anyway?"

Lyrium hesitated for a fraction of a second.

What was he supposed to say?

Oh, nothing much.

Just fought a guy with monstrous talent and potential, acting tough but nearly died, and now I have a skill that feels like a ticking time bomb.

Instead, he shrugged.

"Just thinking."

Ren clicked his tongue.

"Wow. Sounds exhausting. I'd offer you my last brain cell, but I need it to keep my charm intact."

Lyrium smirked.

"Not sure you had one to begin with."

"Ouch. Wounded. Deeply,"

Ren gasped, clutching his chest. Then, just as quickly, he grinned.

"Anyway, I came to check on you. You good?"

Lyrium met his gaze.

Ren was always like this…easygoing, playful, but sharp in ways most people didn't notice.

Beneath all the jokes and teasing, he was watching.

He always knew when something was off.

"I'm fine,"

Lyrium finally said.

Ren hummed, clearly unconvinced.

"Mmm. Sure. But if you're ever not fine, you know where to find me."

Lyrium snorted.

"Yeah. Probably in my bed, uninvited."

Ren laughed.

"Exactly! Glad you get it."

He stretched his arms behind his head.

"Alright, I'll head out. Just wanted to remind you that you're still human and should probably eat before you start running on pure angst."

With a wink, he pushed himself up from the bed and strolled toward the door.

"Don't stay up all night being mysterious,"

Ren called over his shoulder.

"Or at least, if you do, let me in on the brooding. I'm great at looking cool in dim lighting."

And with that, he was gone.

Silence settled once more.

Lyrium leaned forward, his fingers tapping against the desk.

His level had gone up.

His strength had risen.

But [Eve of Ruins]...

That was something else entirely.

"Well, Let's just check this skill…"

*****

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the moonlight filtering through the curtains.

The night was quiet… too quiet.

Lyrium sat on the edge of his bed, hands clasped together as he stared at the floor.

His mind was a storm, thoughts colliding like waves crashing against the shore.

He needed to test it.

His fingers twitched slightly as the weight of his new skill lingered at the edge of his consciousness.

[Eve of Ruins]… the name alone carried an ominous weight.

It wasn't just another ability; it was something different.

Something… unnatural.

His body felt fine… no signs of exhaustion, no immediate side effects.

But that meant nothing.

Some things didn't make themselves known immediately. Some things waited.

He exhaled through his nose, standing up in one smooth motion.

He couldn't sit here and theorize all night.

He needed to feel it.

To know if his body can handle the skill.

Without another thought, he grabbed his coat, throwing it over his shoulders before slipping out of the room.

*****

The academy grounds were bathed in silver, the moonlight casting long shadows across the cobblestone pathways.

It was late.

Most students were asleep, their dormitories dark, save for a few faint glows from windows where the truly studious… or the insomniacs… lingered.

But outside?

Outside was his.

His footsteps were light against the stone as he moved with practiced ease, navigating through the academy grounds like a ghost.

He knew the paths well… every shortcut, every blind spot.

The training hall wasn't far.

The wind howled softly between the towering structures, carrying the distant scent of rain.

His mind was quiet.

Focused.

No unnecessary thoughts.

No distractions.

Just the path ahead.

The grand doors of the training hall loomed before him, their dark fibre polished from centuries of use.

He reached out, pushing them open with ease, the old hinges groaning slightly in protest.

The moment he stepped inside, the air shifted.

It was a vast space… designed to accommodate everything from simple sparring sessions to full-scale magical duels.

Training dummies lined the far end, reinforced targets waiting to be struck by spells or weapons.

The ground was smooth, polished stone, bearing faint scorch marks and dents from past battles.

It smelled of sweat, steel, and mana.

He stepped forward, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

Then, finally, he stopped at the center.

A deep breath.

Then another.

He closed his eyes.

And whispered,

"Eve of Ruins."

A pulse.

It was subtle at first, a shiver running down his spine, spreading outward like ripples in a pond.

Then came the heat… a slow burn beneath his skin, threading through his veins like molten metal.

His breathing hitched.

His fingers curled.

Then… a weight.

Like something unseen had settled over him, pressing down on his shoulders.

Not painful.

Not suffocating.

Just… there.

His heartbeat slowed.

His senses sharpened.

The world felt different.

Sharper.

Louder.

Every flickering torch, every creak of the wooden beams above… it was all too clear.

Then came the whispers.

Not voices.

Not words.

Just... echoes.

Like the remnants of something ancient, something forgotten, brushing against his mind.

A warning.

A promise.

His hands trembled… just for a second.

He exhaled, steadying himself.

This wasn't ordinary.

This wasn't normal.

And yet… it felt right.

His body moved before he even registered it.

A step forward.

Then another.

His movements were fluid, precise—almost too precise.

Like instinct had overridden thought.

A flick of his wrist.

A test.

The air hummed in response.

The very space around him shifted, bending subtly as if something unseen had taken notice.

He clenched his jaw.

This… was dangerous.

But more than that… it was powerful.

And power, no matter its form, was meant to be wielded.

Lyrium took another breath.

Then, without hesitation, he raised his hand… ready to push it further.

The moment Lyrium extended his hand, reality itself seemed to shudder.

A pulse.

Then another.

The air in the training hall grew heavy, thick with an invisible force pressing against his skin.

It was unlike anything he had felt before… not mana, not mere pressure, but something deeper, something primordial.

His vision darkened at the edges as the world around him rippled.

It was as if existence itself was hesitating, caught between two states… reality and something else.

Then… it broke.

The training hall vanished.

No sound.

No movement.

No transition.

One moment it was there, and the next, it was gone.

In its place stood a vast, desolate expanse.

A shattered land stretched before him… ashen ground cracked and lifeless, the remnants of something ancient and forgotten.

The sky above was an endless void, swirling with colors that did not belong in this world… hues that twisted and churned like a dying star.

And the air… it reeked of death.

This was his domain.

His breath came slow and measured as he took it all in.

The weight, the vastness, the sheer power that surged through his very being.

He could feel it… the absolute authority.

A space where he was the only law.

Then came the whispers.

No… not whispers.

Echoes.

Fragments of voices, distant and unintelligible, lingering at the edges of his consciousness.

They did not belong to him, yet they were a part of this place.

A remnant of what had once been.

His fingers twitched, instinct guiding his next move.

He took a step forward… and the land responded.

The cracks beneath his feet spread, glowing with a faint, eerie light.

The very ground bent to his will, shifting, reshaping, as if awaiting a command.

He narrowed his eyes.

This... was absolute.

And yet, it felt unnatural.

Like something stolen.

Like something that should not exist.

A flicker of unease settled in his chest, but he pushed it aside.

For now, he had control.

And that was all that mattered.

His hand rose once more, fingers curling as he focused.

What else could he do here?

The thought barely had time to form before the space reacted.

A single wordless command… and the land cracked open.

From the abyss below, figures began to rise.

Shadows, humanoid but formless, emerging in silent reverence.

No faces.

No features.

Just voids where eyes should be.

They stood, motionless.

Awaiting his will.

A test, then.

Lyrium clenched his fist…

And the figures moved.

Faster than thought, they lunged.

The air screamed as they surged forward, a blur of black against the pale ground.

He reacted on instinct.

A step to the side… effortless, fluid… and the world bent with him.

The figures struck nothing but empty air.

He turned… another thought, another command… and the space itself retaliated.

A sharp crack rang out as the land beneath them collapsed, swallowing the figures whole.

They made no sound as they vanished into the abyss.

And then… silence.

Lyrium exhaled, his breath uneven.

Too real.

This wasn't just a skill.

This was something more.

Something dangerous.

And yet…

He smirked, flexing his fingers as the domain around him began to unravel.

I can use this.

With a single breath, he let it all go…

And in the blink of an eye, he was back in the training hall.

The transition was seamless, almost unnerving in its abruptness.

One second, he stood in the ruined expanse of his domain…

The next, he was back on cold, polished stone, staring at the training dummies lined against the far wall.

The air was still.

The academy was unchanged.

But he wasn't.

His heart still pounded, his body still thrummed with the remnants of that power.

His hands trembled… just slightly.

And yet, as he exhaled, a single thought settled in his mind:

I've only scratched the surface.

And that… was exhilarating.

"Well iI can use th…"

But just as he was about to continue, he was cut off when,

"Student Lyrium Blackwood…"

'Shit, I Am Fucked'

"What are you doing here this late at night…"