SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 112: Reality Is My Fantasy

Chapter 112: Reality Is My Fantasy

The Refined Arts Academy from years ago was different from the one Mikel knew. The current school imposed stricter controls on spiritual energy usage—even limiting it to a degree. Student fights were strongly discouraged.

But in this timeline, aside from a scolding, Sabel and the boy she fought—Everest—were completely fine. Surprisingly, Sabel had won the fight and trashed Everest almost without breaking a sweat.

They were good people, Mikel could tell.

After the fight, Sabel and Everest didn’t clash again—as if nothing had happened. Although Everest remained a little annoyed with her, there was no bad blood between them. In the end, Mikel and the younger version of Mister Nocty simply watched as the two served community service on campus, along with the other students in the group: Lara, Maris, and Jake.

[Master, you’re staying in this Anima longer than you’re supposed to.]

Mikel glanced at the glowing red-and-black screen before him. A shallow breath escaped him as he leaned back and turned his head toward the young man beside him. Right now, the group was lounging on the benches in the school’s open court.

Mikel and Mister Nocty sat slightly apart from the others.

"Mister Nocty, we should leave this place," he said, reminding his teacher of the real danger they were in. "This isn’t real."

"It is real." Mister Nocty’s youthful face turned toward him. "It may be an illusion, but it’s replicating a real memory. My memory."

His eyes drifted to the students on the court—the duo in the middle and the rest cheering from the sidelines. His expression softened, a bitter smile forming on his lips.

"They were all capable, gifted shamans," he murmured. "I was the weakest among them. Yet, they never made me feel useless. If anything, they always included me in everything. And when I couldn’t believe in myself, they believed in me."

The bitterness in his voice deepened. "Too weak for Zone Zero, but just strong enough to be an instructor at the Academy."

There were stronger faculty members—former agents of Zone Zero—who chose teaching for a quieter life. And then, there was Mister Nocty... someone who simply wasn’t cut out for anything else.

After all, being an instructor at the Academy didn’t demand overwhelming strength. Just someone knowledgeable about the shaman world and the program.

So really, teaching wasn’t something to brag about.

"..." Mikel studied his teacher’s side profile with a flat expression.

Time was running out for both of them, but Mister Nocty didn’t seem concerned. Rather, his teacher had more time to reminisce and feel sadness.

"I wish they hadn’t trusted me so much," Mister Nocty whispered, snapping his eyes back to the group. "Maybe they would’ve lived longer."

"Mister Nocty, I don’t know what’s going on here, but your students are still waiting to be saved."

"Saved?" Mister Nocty scoffed, glancing back at him, but whatever thought entered his mind, he kept it to himself. Instead, he turned his gaze to his friends once more and sighed.

"Students to save... How can I save them when I couldn’t even save one? Or myself?"

Mikel’s brows twitched slightly. He realized Mister Nocty was referring to him.

"Mikel, this cursed zone isn’t just about you or me," the teacher said. "Even if we ran around here, we’d just end up walking in circles. I knew that the moment I stepped out of the gymnasium. It’s a cursed zone where one gets in; there’s no getting out."

"There’s only one way to get out and that’s by breaking through the barrier of this zone," he added under his breath. "But I know my limits, and the chances for that are slim."

He gave a bitter smile only to be yanked out of it when Mikel suddenly grabbed his shoulder, fingers fisting his uniform.

When he turned, he was met with mismatched eyes gleaming with frustration.

"What in the damn melodrama are you even on about?" Mikel’s voice shook with restrained fury, no longer caring that this was his teacher.

"We can’t get out of here," Mister Nocty began, but Mikel immediately shook him hard.

"Bullshit. Say that again."

Right now, in his eyes, the man before him was just another student. That’s why he didn’t hesitate to grab him—uniform be damned.

His outburst caught the attention of Sabel, Everest, and the rest of the group. They turned toward them, brows furrowing as they saw Mikel grabbing Mister Nocty so roughly.

[Master, I do not believe he is in his right mental state.]

Mikel’s eyes briefly flickered as Doom’s system scanned the situation.

[Due to the Anima’s effects, your teacher’s mind is regressing—not in size, but in personality. His younger self is slowly taking over, along with the emotional vulnerabilities of that time.]

[You are no longer speaking to the same teacher you entered with. The moment he let his personal feelings cloud him, he began to change.]

Still, Mikel’s grip tightened, jaw clenching.

Damn it! I know he’s unreliable, but not like this!

He released his grip and stood up. His eyes fell on the young Mister Nocty, fists clenched.

"Not long ago, someone told me a shaman’s willpower is his strongest weapon—not his spiritual capacity or capabilities," Mikel said coldly, eyes sharp. "Mister Nocty, if you want to stay in this make-believe world, then fine."

He shook his head. "Just don’t drag me down with you."

"Reality is my fantasy," he added under his breath. "Because the moment I start thinking otherwise... I’m dead."

With that, Mikel turned and walked away. He’d waited long enough.

Meanwhile, Mister Nocty stared at his back. He knew Mikel was taller and fitter than most, but now that they appeared to be the same age, it made sense why Ran and the others looked at Mikel like he was more than just a Red Stripe.

Mikel’s back was broader, and looking at it, it felt more reliable.

****

Meanwhile, inside the Old Building...

The hallway floor erupted in jagged spikes, shooting straight at the students. If not for Zira and Boom, they would’ve been impaled on the spot.

"Blitz!" Ran shouted, eyes wide in disbelief at the attacker behind them.

Boom had thrown up vines with his small hands, shielding them. Zira’s sword slashed the rest away with precision.

"Blitz..." Boom’s voice trembled. "What are you doing?"

Zira narrowed her eyes. The students behind her were visibly shaken—eyes wide, faces pale.

"Boom, there’s no use talking to him," Zira said quietly as she stepped forward, sword flicking to her side. Her gaze locked on Blitz. The boy’s expression had darkened. He was no longer the bubbly, innocent child who had entered with them.

"That’s not Blitz," she muttered, making everyone freeze. "You guys—stay out of this."

"Zira, but that’s Blitz—"

Before Ran could say anything more, the wall beside him morphed into a spike. He hadn’t even realized it until he was sliding across the floor. He didn’t hit anything—thanks to Gallos.

Stunned, Ran looked up at the phantom that had shielded him. When he looked again, he saw the impact. Part of the wall pierced like a spear into the far side of the hallway. If that hit him, his skull would’ve been in pieces.

"Blitz..." Ran whispered, turning his eyes back to the boy, whose palm was still on the wall.

Slowly, a wicked smirk curled across Blitz’s lips.

Zira was right.

There was no point in talking.

That Blitz... was no longer the same one they had walked in with.