Who The Hell Is Main Character?

It was...boring.

And too quiet for Maeve. She stood near the kitchen counter with a cloth in one hand, staring at the same glass in her hands for several seconds.

She wore her usual loose black shirt that reached her thighs, collar falling off one shoulder. Her hair were let loose as she stared at the glass.

On the sofa, Marcellus sat with one leg crossed over the other, a plate of cut fruit rested on the table in front of him.

He picked a slice of apple, chewed, and swallowed, and reached for another. His attention remained fixed on Maeve’s phone which was now in his hands.

"Tch..." she clicked her tongue, and moved to another glass.

Marcellus ignored her, and the recording on the phone continued. Two awakeners moved across a massive area on the screen, their forces collided at a distance before either of them committed to a full attack.

Marcellus paused the recording, rebound it, played it again. Then paused at the exact moment one of the fighters shifted his footing.

"Hmm..." He hummed, and continued.

Maeve looked at him for a moment, and grunted. She did say he needed to observe and learn the battle instincts...but that didn’t mean taking her phone from her.

She sighed, and shook her head.

Returning to the counter, she picked up the next glass, and then continued cleaning them one by one. But she was not having it anymore.

Finally, her eyes moved back toward the sofa.

"Are you planning to give my phone back?" She asked.

"In a while," Marcellus replied.

"You’ve been saying that since morning, its past noon now," She said.

"You also muted all the academy mails, at least keep yourself updated," she added.

Marcellus looked up.

"They were distracting," he picked up another slice of apple.

"..." Maeve kept staring at him while Marcellus returned to the screen.

For the first time, Maeve had absolutely no idea what was happening outside the suite. She did not even log into her laptop yet.

Marcellus tapped on the screen, and the next recording was just about to play as the phone vibrated.

He ignored it.

But it vibrated again.

He tried to ignore it again, but after third vibration he immediately pulled down notifications.

’Liora – 15 new messages.’

He opened it.

He read the messages.

It was a group chat.

The conversation consisted almost entirely of women complaining about the people they worked for.

He furrowed his brows slowly, looked toward Maeve who arranging the glasses, and looked back at the screen.

{Liora: Maeve Finally! You’re online, what happened to you...were you busy handling the handle of your little heir?}

"..." Marcellus stared at the message for a moment.

{Sera: What did he do now? I need the drama!}

{Rin: Please tell me you finally cuffed him to the bed just to get five minutes of peace...}

"..."

{Liora: Honestly, I think that even if she did cuff him on her bed, she’ll probably start lecturing him}

{Sera: LMAOOO}

{Liora: Real talk though, imagine having to live with someone who’s not only hot, but wakes up and walks around naked, and sometimes even acts as some sort of genius, I’d have lost my mind and panties by day three}

{Rin: Maybe Maeve did lose them, considering its been weeks. She’s either a saint, or getting railed in complete silence}

"...Uh ok," Marcellus leaned forward.

Somehow, he was more interested in this chat than the battle recordings.

{Liora: Lmao Maeve if you’re really getting railed in complete silence I just need you to type "help" right now}

{Rin: Or type "harder" it’s not like we’re judging,}

{Liora: I swear if you leave us on read again I’m sending a care package of condoms and lube to IAA no matter the cost, try me.}

"..." Marcellus tapped the chat box.

A sleek keyboard appeared on the screen and he thought for a moment.

He then nodded, thinking of best possible response.

{Maeve: help}

He then smiled and leaned back, completely invested in the chats.

Maeve who was done cleaning the utensils found his behavior odd. She folded the cloth and began walking towards him.

{Sera: Shit...God}

{Rin: Holy}

{Liora: No wayyyy! YOU KNOW HANDLING HIS HANDLE WAS A JOKE!}

The chat went in complete frenzy.

Maeve walked over in bare feet, quiet on the floor. The loose black shirt shifted with each step, and stopped beside the sofa.

She looked down at him, and furrowed her brows, but Marcellus was paying no attention to her.

{Sera: GIRL! Don’t tell me are you actually being ***** right this second? Figures why you’re not texting,}

Marcellus scrolled with one thumb.

"What are you doing?" Maeve asked.

"Observing awakeners," Marcellus answered.

"While holding the phone in portrait?" She asked.

"Haha...yes," Marcellus did not pay much attention to her question.

"Young Master..." Maeve murmured, and leaned in right beside him.

Her hands reacted before her eyes could even properly land on the screen, and she snatched her phone back in an instant.

"You--!" She scrolled the messages for as much he had read.

"You have some really interesting friends, I hope to meet them one day," he said.

"The looked like they were discussing an important issue, I was completely invested," he added.

The group chat was still moving, and Maeve scrolled for what all he had read.

Maeve shut the application without bothering to reply them, and took in a deep breath, clutching her phone.

"I cannot believe this," She whispered and looked for muted notifications.

They were quite a lot.

She placed her phone face down on the table and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down.

’Not a single day goes by without incidents,’ she thought. ’How can someone be a troublemaker of this level?’

She picked her phone back up.

This time, something on the screen had her full attention now. Marcellues noticed the shift before she said anything.

"What now? Another duel challenge?" he asked.

"I can tell you, I am so ready," he said.

[Current Capacity: ~ 51%]

"Half-ready," he corrected himself.

"Pretorias decision came through," She said.

"What...did they decide? What’s the context?" He asked.

"God..." she whispered, and turned the phone’s screen slightly towards him.

"You defeated Rafe, and now stand as one of the top two hundred cadets, ranked at 117 to be precise. But that made Rafe lose his position. More so when his core has been shattered, and his body is beyond recovery," she summarized in one sentence.

"What," he said. It wasn’t a question.

"What do you mean his core shattered? How is his body not repairable, I’m completely fine," he said, and stood up.

"You were far from the petals despite being in the range of explosion. But Rafe was at the point of center. Moreover that strange frequency had shattered the ability of his core to circulate his force." She said.

"What does that have to do with Pretorias decision, and what even is it that they’re deciding?" he asked.

"..." Maeve looked at Marcellus as if he was asking something which he should already know. But his eyes did not reflect the same friendly tone.

"He lost to you, lost his powers, and even the ability to move. Pretorias deem him unfit of heir, and they’re refusing to take him back. That’s why he’s being kept in medical wing, but they’ll still fund his treatment as long as he lives, as that’s what they think is honorable." She said.

"Honorable?" He scoffed. "Just because he lost to me...they’re declaring him dead?"

"Ye-"

"And they’re treating a child of their own family as an asset?" he asked, tilting his head.

Maeve was about to speak but he cut her words off. He looked serious.

"That’s odd, what is this? A fucking military regime where those of no use are discarded, left stranded in the place they were deployed?"

"Well, not exac-"

"This is eerily familiar," Marcellus smiled, but it didn’t quite reach to his wide eyes.

"I really thought I was done with that life," he said.

"This isn’t different at all. Think about it. I mean sure, you have what I chased, a perfection of something I created, but throwing people, leaving them stranded, treating children as assets, placing value over every fucking human..."

"There’s—there’s no difference!"

"What’re you talking about?" Maeve whispered. He had the same look he had after that nightmare.

A normal person could never have an expression like that. He...was speaking about the life he had never lived.

This sudden change in mood is not possible for any normal person. He was not someone who was in the right emotional state to begin with.

And it all made sense.

Thinking back.

He didn’t fear pain, didn’t fear death. His hearbeat did not rise when the plane fell when they arrived at the academy. She thought it was just his awareness and calm.

But then his actions of suddenly getting all friendly, acting suggestive, never feeling any pain, never stepping back despite knowing he was no match for Rafe.

Facing the brandts when he did not even invent a destructive technique.

It wasn’t braveness.

He was disconnected emotionally.

"I!"

He growled and looked at Maeve.

"I did it again!" He said.

Maeve’s brows drew together.

"Did what?" she asked.

"It has always been me. Just like all the times. Someone else paid for me." He said.

"What?" she whispered.

"?" Maeve couldn’t understand what was happening. He was just fine.

Fine moments ago. What was happening to him all of a sudden.

"No, y-" she was about to speak.

"I didn’t do that intentionally now did I? Why blame me then?" he countered his own statement.

"Young Mas-"

"But that doesn’t make me different."

"If not him, then it would’ve been me," he was...reasoning himself.

"Marcellus--"

"Rafe made his own decision, he challenged me, and I defended myself," he said.

’This doesn’t make sense,’ she thought. ’He didn’t react the same way when Brandt brothers died in front of him...what changed?’

"It wasn’t your fault," she tried to calm him down.

’What changed now? He already witnessed deaths!’ she was running her mind to understand his behavior.

"Don’t!" He rubbed his thumb against the edge of his palm.

"Everyone says the same thing,"

"Everyone?" she murmured.

Suddenly, Marcellus stopped.

He closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath.

Maeve was completely silent. She didn’t know what she had just witnessed. Or what changed for him to react like that.

His expressions returned to normal, and he leaned forward, picking up a slice of apple.

He took a bite, and smiled.

"Why’re you looking at me all serious?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Do I look weird?" he looked down at himself.

"..."

’What...the fuck!? This...is scary,’ she thought.

"Let’s go," he said.

"Go...go where?" She asked.

"We have patient, Maeve. You really do need to work on your short-term memory," he scoffed.

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