[Junia]

  It had been three days since Arceid’s brother arrived.

  At first, I expected him to be a problem—another arrogant, reckless Astra like the others who thought power made them untouchable. But Azrael? He wasn’t like them.

  He rarely spoke, barely moved from his designated room or the portal chamber. The playful, trolling personality Arceid had described was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he spent hours staring blankly, lost in thought, his expression void of any emotion.

  Something about him felt… off.

  Not just eerie—wrong.

  The few times the portal activated, creatures emerged—feral, weak things barely above mortal level. But even then, Azrael refused assistance, insisting on fighting alone.

  What surprised me wasn’t his confidence—it was his control.

  He fought with a level of refinement far beyond a typical mortal.

  Our power classification had four sublevels:

  1. Instinctual Level (Raw strength)

  2. Trained Level (Skilled use)

  3. Mastered Level (True control)

  4. Absolute Control (Omniscient mastery)

  Azrael, despite being at mortal rank, displayed Trained Level control—unusual, to say the least.

  But the most unnerving part?

  He showed no emotion while killing. Not even disgust. No hesitation. No pleasure. Just… emptiness.

  Was he hyper-focused? Or was this just who he was?

  I dismissed the thought and walked up to him, forcing a cheerful tone.

  “Hello, Azrael! You should take a break before your brother finds out and—”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Without a word, he stood and walked past me toward the cafeteria.

  My eye twitched.

  “…What the hell was that?”

  I clenched my fists, muttering, “Mannerless bastard.”

  But I let it go. No point wasting my energy. I had research to do.

  ……

  Hours later, while walking through the halls, I saw him again—sitting cross-legged before the portal, unmoving.

  I would’ve ignored him—until I felt it.

  A faint energy fluctuation.

  My heart skipped. The portal shimmered, the distortion growing unstable. Then—it stepped through.

  A giant.

  No—something worse.

  Its entire body was coated in a metal-like substance, rippling like liquid silver. Faceless, humanoid, but unmistakably unnatural.

  The energy it radiated was leagues above the creatures he had faced before.

  This thing wasn’t mortal.

  I instinctively classified its power:

  1. Mortal Rank (Enhanced physical abilities, basic energy control)

  2. Planetoid Rank (Asteroid-scale destruction)

  3. Planetary Rank (Global-level power)

  4. Star Rank (System-wide destruction)

  5. Galactic Rank (Dominion over galaxies)

  6. Universal Rank (Masters of reality)

  Even among millions of Astras, only a handful have reached Planetary Rank.

  Arceid—the strongest Astra, had reached Planetary Rank with Mastered Level control.

  But this thing?

  Planetoid Rank. A level above Azrael.

  He was in danger.

  I prepared to intervene, summoning cosmic energy as the space around me glowed azure—

  Then he looked straight at me.

  His eyes were cold, commanding.

  Don’t interfere.

  Was he insane? Did he not realize the gap between them?

  Ignoring his silent warning, I struck first.

  The space between the creature’s limbs cracked, tearing its body apart at the shoulders, elbows, and knees.

  It collapsed like a broken mannequin. It didn't take much trouble to take it down.

  “Luckily for him. I am one of the handful Planetary Rank Astras.”

  I smirked. “I’m the best.”

  I turned to Azrael, expecting gratitude. Instead—

  He glared.

  A deep, ice-cold stare that made my stomach churn.

  Stepping forward, he locked eyes with me and spoke in a monotone voice.

  “Next time, don’t interfere. I knew it was Planetoid Rank. I need these battles to grow.”

  I snapped. “Are you stupid? This isn’t some street brawl! The gap between ranks isn’t something you can just brute force your way through! YOU WOULD’VE DIED BEFORE EVEN LANDING A HIT!”

  His glare darkened. His already cold eyes lost what little light remained.

  “…Yeah? So what? If I die, I die. That’s it.”

  My breath hitched. “…What about your family?”

  “They’d get over it.”

  His voice was empty.

  I clenched my fists. “You don’t mean that.”

  His lip curled in disgust. “Don’t give me that fake concern.”

  My eyes widened. “Fake…?”

  “I’ve been holding back, but honestly?” He took another step forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You make me sick.”

  I felt my stomach tighten. “Excuse me?”

  He towered over me, his tone lifeless.

  “You want me to explain? Fine.

  That smile of yours—it’s fake. It irks me. Faker than the media.

  Whenever you talk to someone, your mind wanders. You pretend to care, but you don’t. You manipulate everyone into relying on you. Just like you did with my brother.”

  His last sentence cut deeper than I expected.

  I stared at him, stunned.

  Was I really—?

  …No. He wasn’t wrong.

  I hated this place. I hated my job. I didn’t give a damn about the world or its people.

  I was forced to be here.

  I wore my smile like armor, pretending to care—because if I didn’t, I’d go feral.

  Azrael saw straight through it.

  He wasn’t guessing.

  He knew.

  His next words sealed it.

  “I don’t care what you do. Just don’t ever put on that fake smile around me. And stay away from my family.”

  I felt my lips twitch.

  He wanted me to stop pretending?

  Fine.

  I dropped the act, my usual plastered expression melting away.

  Then, I looked up at him—grinning ear to ear.

  “You’re fun, Azrael.”

  I chuckled, taking a step closer. “Since you see through me, I guess I don’t have to pretend anymore.”

  His glare remained, but he said nothing.

  Good.

  If he didn’t want me to be fake—then I’d play with him properly.