Who The Hell Is Main Character?

The atmosphere inside the lift was slightly awkward.

’What the hell?’ Maeve couldn’t just put it in right words.

Just moments ago, Marcellus looked like a man who had crawled out of hell itself. He was breathing unevenly, had raw hunger and desperation rolling off him in waves, but now...he stood beside her with that familiar calm elegance, composed, and disciplined once more.

As if he had simply flipped a switch inside himself.

Yet the air still carried that faint scent of change.

"You want some," Marcellus extended an open packet of chips he brought from cafeteria, staring down at her.

’Why does he feel even more charming like this? No--- what the hell am I even thinking right now?’

She forced her expression to stay neutral, but her fingers still twitched at her sides.

"Relax..." Marcellus smirked. The corner of his lips curved in confidence.

"It’s not like I’m going to eat you." He leaned closer to her neck, sending minor shivers down her spine. "Yet."

*-Ding-*

The soft chime echoed as the gates of the private lift opened.

Marcellus stepped forward first, then paused.

"?" Maeve was confused at the sudden stop.

Without a word, he extended his hand towards her, palm up and fingers relaxed.

"Won’t you lead the way like earlier?" his question did not feel like one. It was more of a suggestion.

Maeve bit the inside of her cheek, and placer hand on his wrist, and gave a light guiding tug.

’I guess, refusing a heir isn’t something she can do in this world...I wonder how far I can go...’ he thought. The realization brought a subtle satisfaction to him.

’This freedom...is far more entertaining than I expected,’

They were headed to the auditorium in the main building of IAA.

The announcement was sudden, and for some reason attendance was mandatory.

All of third generation cadets had already arrived, and a rare few like Marcellus were still making their way towards the auditorium. That’s the reason that academy felt eerily quiet.

The gates of the auditorium were massive, draped in black velvet shade and silver frame. They were already opened and two professors were already standing at the entrance.

One was a blonde woman in her mid fifties, wearing golden spectacles, a long brown coat paired with a white shirt tucked in her black long frock.

The other was a man of lean build, dark hair, and brown eyes, wearing a formal dark blue suit with strip line designs.

"Hurry up!" The woman said looking at Maeve who was walking ahead of Marcellus, still guiding him.

Maeve bowed in a slight gesture and immediately looked for the seat in last rows of the auditorium.

"There you go..." she said, as if proving that she did drag him here.

"I’m impressed," he said, taking a seat first as Maeve sat beside him.

They were seated in the far corner of the auditorium, so not many noticed their presence.

The auditorium was just like classrooms, but its scale was massive, it’s centre stage had more tiles, and the seats were considerably comfy compared to classrooms...and there were no tables.

The hall was bustling with chatter of cadets, as almost all one thousand of them were in a single massive room with a domed roof.

The dome had Five entrances. Three were from the higher seating areas, from where Marcellus and Maeve entered. Two were the alleys that connected podium beneath.

*Crunch*

Marcellus continued eating his chips, and leaned back as if he was here to watch a movie, while Maeve was concerned over why the sudden announcement was made, and was looking through her phone.

"You’re going to wear out your screen if you keep refreshing like that," he said lightly, offering her the packet again. "Chips?"

"Young Master...this is serious. Mandatory announcements like this don’t just happen without a reason." She glanced at him.

"Exactly," he replied, popping another chip.

"Which is why panicking won’t help, might as well enjoy the wait."

Before Maeve could retort, the lights in the auditorium dimmed, highlighting the podium.

*Crunch*

Marcellus’s crunching grew louder in the quieting hall.

The blonde professor in the brown coat walked up to him from behind, as the gates of the auditorium closed.

*Crackle*

She swiftly took the packet of chips from his hand.

"What the--?"

"Eat. Them. Later." Her words held clear authority. "This is not a movie theater, Young Lord Severan."

"..." ’Well it was almost empty...’ Marcellus thought.

He glanced sideways at Maeve, who was still trying to hide her smile.

Marcellus scoffed, and focused ahead as a man walked at an unhurried pace, and stood at the centre of the podium.

He wore a fine black three-piece-suit. A fine tie in dark mud colour, and neatly combed hair. Lean but masculine. He was around mid-thirties, clean shaved, and his eyes were charming brown.

While most cadets had now focused on him, a few still hadn’t realized just how important he was.

"It’s a fine evening," that man merely whispered, but his words were clearly audible.

"Orientation days have a reputation," he wasn’t whispering intentionally. It felt as if it was his original voice.

There was a sudden change in pressure. A sudden but gradual change.

Conversations now died one by one, and everyone was beginning to pay attention to him.

They felt a sort of anxiety, like their chests were under pressure, as if it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

Marcellus noticed the change almost instantly, and instinctively, his eyes glowed a faint hue of rose.

[Executing: Observation.]

The world turned plane white. Black moving threads drew the reality in front of him. He could see the hearts pumping the blood, eyes with visible confusion and distress.

He could see the hue of black smoke that moved in a fine coordinated manner, originating from the core of that man, and draping the cores of cadets, suppressing their movement of force.

In this world, force cannot be measured accurately. It’s the observer’s problem.

It implies that to measure a force-sensitive being you need an internal detector. The role of that detector is constantly making best guess estimate of ambient force levels, the way your inner ear estimates balance without measuring gravity directly.

’A powerful being doesn’t need to touch you, or generate literal weight, he just needs to flood the local field with output so dense that everyone else’s core redlines, and suffer the pressure.’ Marcellus made a hypothesis of what was happening.

’The body doesn’t know how to interpret these "off the charts," so it defaults to the most primal available translation, which is a feeling of crushing, and suffocation, creating a fear of being in front of a predator.’

’It’s like...Induced detector saturation,’

[Observation: IDS (Induced detector Saturation.)]

The pressure increased a lot of cadets grunted suffering in suffocation.

"Ugh---" Maeve also grunted as her chest felt like it was being compressed, and she was having hard time breathing.

Marcellus however was too focused on the movement of the man’s force, that he was not even aware of the pressure his body was feeling.

’Rather than emitting force continuously and evely, like a natural talent like him is doing, I can...’

[Observation: Phase Concentration.]

’Make it move directly analogous to how a small amount of fissile material can still produce a devastating pulse...’

[Observation: Exploitation of Detector.]

’But my core is not refined enough,’ his core surged the movement of force rapidly, and a dark rosy hue surrounded him as it intensified the movement.

[Observation: Impedance Shaping.]

’Reshape the waveform before it ever leaves the body,’

’Don’t counter the load...create a safe field by countering the waveform,’

[Observation: Waveform Analysis.]

[Observation: Force Field Negation.]

[Execution Available.]

[Force Field Negation.]

[Executing: Force Field Negation.]

Instead of fighting the pressure head-on, he reshaped it, turning his own force output into a precise counter-frequency.

The crushing weight around him didn’t disappear, it just harmonized with the movement with his own core.

He rested his hand on Maeve’s back, as the field around her harmonized as well. To her, the suffocating pressure disappeared in an instant.

"Haa..." She gasped sharply, with eyes wide open in disbelief.

’He negated it?’ She could clearly see everyone struggling except them.

He leaned back in his seat, and let out a long, relaxed sigh.

’Well, that’s...pretty useful,’ The colours returned to the world as the rosy hue disappeared from his eyes.

Noticing her stare, Marcellus turned toward her, and without a word, he reached over, and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"You seem like a high maintenance assistant," he spoke as his fingers lingered against the side of her neck.

Maeve opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her cheeks warmed slightly as she quickly looked away.

Suddenly, a faint laugh escaped the man standing on the podium, and he shook his head in amusement.

Strong gasps were heard from all over the auditorium as the pressure disappeared in an instant.

"Good Evening, everyone," the man spoke.

"My name is Luca Ferraro."

"I currently serve as Director of the Union." The smile on the man’s face widened ever so slightly.

Absolute Silence.

Maeve too, had heard of that name really well.

Even the professors unconsciously straightened themselves.

"Is he that important?" Marcellus asked.

"Luca Ferraro is not just the director of Union," Maeve replied. "He’s classified as CG – 0. He’s a walking catastrophe."

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