Mrs. Cole's Question

The starlit classroom on the roof felt like a fleeting dream. With the arrival of dawn, reality's cold tendrils spread once more. The next day, everything seemed to return to square one—bland breakfast, numbing activities, and the tiny yet sharp frictions between the children.

But some things had indeed changed.

Tom was still silent, but Ares could sense that the scrutinizing gaze resting on him had become less piercingly cold and more measured and thoughtful. An unspoken understanding had formed between them: in the dining hall, Ares would "accidentally" push the slightly better food from his bowl toward Tom; in the yard, Tom would occupy a corner that was both discreet and gave him a view of everything, while Ares's presence invisibly drove off some of those who came looking to provoke them.

They were like two young beasts meeting in the wilderness, keeping a safe distance while instinctively recognizing that staying close to each other offered a certain degree of shelter.

[Host, tacit understanding UP! (???) Although the target has not spoken, his body language shows that his rejection of you has decreased by 15.3%!]

The system's analysis gave Ares some comfort, but the [Cornerstone of Trust] mission still showed no progress. Getting Tom to voluntarily share his secrets would not be easy.

That afternoon, Sister Martha called Ares over to help organize the storeroom. As he came out carrying some discarded old newspapers, he happened to run into Mrs. Cole at the corner of the corridor.

"Ares," Mrs. Cole called, adjusting her glasses. Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment, especially on his heterochromatic eyes and the mark beneath his left eye. "Are you settling in well here?"

"I'm doing all right. Thank you for your concern, ma'am." Ares lowered his head and put on an obedient expression.

"Mm." Mrs. Cole's tone was flat. "As for your family, do you still remember nothing at all?"

Ares's heart tightened. Maintaining his bewildered expression, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am... I only remember my own name."

Mrs. Cole looked at him thoughtfully. "That is strange. You, child, seem... different." She did not say it outright, but her gaze swept over his eyes and hair again. "The way you speak and act is far steadier than children your age. And..." She paused, as though considering her words. "You and Riddell seem to have become quite close lately?"

Ares's heart skipped a beat. Here it comes.

He raised his head, doing his best to make his eyes look clear and innocent. "Tom... just doesn't like talking much. Sometimes I ask him about things here."

"Is that so?" Mrs. Cole's tone revealed neither pleasure nor displeasure. "I've noticed that ever since you arrived, Riddell... seems to cause less trouble." That was true enough. With Ares acting as an invisible "soother" and "crisis manager," the frequency of Tom's magical outbursts and conflicts with others had indeed decreased. "That's a good thing. But, Ares," her voice lowered, carrying a warning, "you should know that Riddell... is a very special child. Sometimes, getting too close to special people may not be a good thing."

Her words were like a cold needle, puncturing the superficial peace of the past few days. Mrs. Cole might not know magic existed, but relying on an adult's intuition and her years of experience managing the orphanage, she had keenly noticed Tom's "abnormality," as well as the subtle changes brought by Ares, this new variable. She was warning him.

"I understand, ma'am." Ares lowered his head, concealing the emotion in his eyes. "I'll be careful."

Mrs. Cole said nothing more. She merely gave him one more deep look before turning and leaving.

Ares stood where he was, holding the old newspapers as a fine layer of cold sweat seeped across his back. Mrs. Cole's suspicions hung over him like dark clouds. He had to be even more careful.

That night, lying in bed, Ares replayed Mrs. Cole's words in his mind over and over. He knew that merely "coexisting peacefully" and offering small bits of help would not be enough to make Tom open up to him. He needed to show greater value, or... create an opportunity.

[Host, the target's mood has been detected as low (′?_?`). His magical fluctuations indicate that he may have had another nightmare, or is upset about something.]

The system's prompt made Ares turn his head. Tom had his back to him, his body curled up, but the line of his shoulders was taut. Was it because of the warning during the day? Or had something unpleasant come back to him again?

After hesitating for a moment, Ares once more stirred that gentle fluctuation of magic, letting it brush over Tom as lightly as a night breeze. This time, Tom's reaction was not as intense. His body only relaxed slightly, but he still did not turn around.

It seemed simple soothing was no longer enough.

Ares remembered the system reward, "Introduction to Ancient Runes." Though it only contained the most basic knowledge, it included several extremely simple symbols with calming and focusing effects. The symbols themselves possessed no magic, but they could be activated by magic to guide emotions.

A bold idea arose in his heart.

He quietly sat up in bed. Using the faint light from outside the window, he dipped his finger into the water in his cup and carefully drew a Runic script symbol he had just learned, representing "tranquility," onto the cold concrete floor between their beds. The symbol was simple, like an unfurled leaf.

Then he focused his mind and, with extreme slowness and care, infused a thread of his gentle magic into the symbol formed from the watermarks.

There was no dazzling light, nor any violent fluctuation. Yet the damp symbol seemed to come alive, giving off an aura that could not be seen by the naked eye but could be sensed by the soul—cool and tranquil, like moonlight. The aura was very faint, limited only to the area around their beds.

Ares nervously watched Tom's back.

A few seconds later, Tom's tense shoulders visibly relaxed. He turned over onto his back, and his breathing became even and deep. He even unconsciously tilted his head slightly toward the symbol, as though drawing in that rare peace.

He had fallen asleep. Not into the struggle of a nightmare, but into truly peaceful sleep.

Ares looked at the symbol on the floor as it gradually dried and vanished without a trace, then at Tom's slightly softened face in sleep. A strange sense of accomplishment welled up within him.

He had not used words, nor had he directly interfered with magic. Instead, he had used another method—one more covert, closer to knowledge itself—to give Tom tangible help.

When Tom woke the next morning, his eyes held a rare trace of groggy confusion, but even more than that, he looked refreshed. It had been a long time since he had slept so deeply and peacefully. He sat up, his gaze instinctively sweeping over Ares's bed before settling on the spot on the floor that had dried without leaving any trace. His eyes flickered uncertainly.

He did not ask what had happened last night, but he knew it must have had something to do with the mysterious boy across from him.

On the way to the dining hall, Tom did not walk ahead as he usually did. Instead, he walked beside Ares in silence for a while. Then, just before entering the noisy dining hall, he slowed slightly, looked ahead, and spoke in a very low voice, as though talking to himself—or perhaps to Ares.

"Albert and the others... sometimes see things move. Or... suddenly feel very afraid."

After saying that, he did not wait for Ares to react. He quickened his pace and entered the dining hall first.

Ares froze where he stood.

[Ding!!!! ∑(?Д?ノ)ノ Mission "Cornerstone of Trust" complete!]

[The target has voluntarily shared a secret regarding the effects of his own abilities! (Though indirectly)]

[Reward issued: Magic Perception Enhancement activated! Introduction to Ancient Runes (Advanced) transmission in progress!]

[Host! He shared a secret with you! Though it was only a little one, about how he scares people, this is a breakthrough from zero! A historic step! ?(???)?]

A clearer power of perception flowed into Ares's consciousness. He could now more keenly detect the subtle changes in the magic around him, including the restrained yet powerful source of magic within Tom. At the same time, more complex Runic script symbols and knowledge flooded into his mind.

Ares looked at Tom's upright back as he disappeared through the dining hall entrance, and the corners of his mouth lifted despite himself.

He knew this was only the beginning. Tom was testing him, repaying him for the silent "symbol of tranquility" from the night before. But this was the cornerstone—the first, and most difficult, cornerstone of trust. At last, he had carefully laid it down through conspiracy, knowledge, and silent care.

The road ahead was still covered in thorns, and Mrs. Cole's doubts hung over him like the sword of Damocles. Yet Ares felt as though he held a faint but real light in his hand.

That light was called "possibility."