Chapter Text
The air did not smell of the sea breeze or the hot asphalt of Avenida Brasil. It smelled of sandalwood, cold candle wax, and an electrical static so dense it prickled her skin, making the small hairs on her arms stand up.
Eliza Santos Aquino, until then a 27-year-old woman with a back tired from the technical routine, blown deadlines, and the raw engineering of real life, woke up in absolute darkness. Panic was a direct punch to the stomach. The space around her was tight, claustrophobic to the extreme. Her hands groped the sides: solid, heavy wood, lined with a soft, cold velvet.
A coffin.
"What kind of garbage is this? Did I die in a construction site accident or did they kidnap me for some fancy mafia wake?" she thought, her indignation and carioca accent echoing in her mind as a mechanical defense mechanism against the absurdity of the situation.
Before terror could paralyze her and the air began to run out, a translucent, floating interface glowed directly into her retina, bypassing the laws of optics and the total darkness.
[🖥️ SYSTEM LOG: INITIALIZATION
User: Eliza Santos Aquino (Anomaly Detected)
Biological State: Cellular Regression Completed (16 years old).
Location: Chamber of Evocation — Night Raven College.
Universal Translation: [ACTIVATED] | Encrypted Mode (PT-BR): [AVAILABLE]
Scenario Difficulty: Intermediate (Social/Political Survival).]
A sharp scratching sound echoed from outside the wood, followed by a screeching, high-pitched voice.
"I'd better find that uniform quickly before anyone sees me..." The sound of something clicking, like flammable gas being released, filled the silence.
Eliza wasn't the type of girl to freeze or play it safe from afar. She was a civil engineer; she knew perfectly well that if the temperature rose drastically in a hermetically sealed environment, thermal expansion and internal pressure would do the rest. Waiting for the fire to melt the lock meant burning to death or suffocating. She didn't hesitate. With the brute strength of someone who had long grown tired of pushing broken buses on Avenida Brasil just so she wouldn't miss her clock-in time at work, she gained momentum and delivered a sharp, violent, and precise kick right to the center of the coffin lid.
BANG!
The wooden lid flew far, colliding against the stone floor and revealing a monumental hall of Gothic architecture. Greenish-blue flames floated in the air within floating candelabras. Grim, the greyish feline creature with flaming ears, leaped backward, his blue eyes widening.
"What?! You already woke up on your own?! And why are you so..." He stopped mid-sentence, sniffing the air aggressively. "You smell different from the other humans who come out of there. What is this weird scent?"
Eliza jumped out of the coffin. Her body felt strangely light, agile, devoid of that chronic lower back pain that had accompanied her since college. She looked at her own hands: small, young-skinned, without the recent calluses from the construction site, but with all her muscle memory intact. Looking down, she saw the black ceremonial robe with purple and gold details. Recognition hit her with the impact of a freight train.
Twisted Wonderland. The mobile game she knew only through fragments of fanart on the internet and lore summaries was now a physical, tactile, and dangerously real reality.
"You've got to be kidding me... I became a teenager again?" she muttered in a low voice, feeling the immediate relief of using her native language.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Private Mode Active: "Portuguese-BR" language not identified by the natives of this world. Secure and encrypted communication guaranteed.]
"Stop muttering weird things and give me those luxurious clothes right now!" Grim shouted, puffing out his cheeks and blasting a direct stream of blue fire.
Eliza dodged by leaping to the side. It wasn't a graceful or choreographed anime movement; it was the pure urban survival reflex of someone who knows how to dodge imminent danger. She ran. The heavy uniform and ceremonial robe flapped against her legs, but her 16-year-old agility compensated for the weight of the fabric. She crossed immense corridors of black marble, flanked by tall stained-glass windows that seemed to watch her every step. Her heart hammered deafeningly against her ribs. She knew she needed to break the game's original script if she wanted to survive as a woman in a rigidly male school, but the castle was a labyrinth designed by a sadistic architect.
Desperate, she spotted an arched window open on the second floor, facing an outdoor wing. Without a second thought about calculating the impact, she braced her foot on the sill and jumped. The clash against the garden of black roses knocked all the air out of her lungs, but the rush of adrenaline obliterated the pain.
She stood up quickly, brushing the dark leaves off her robe, and began to run through the tall bushes, trying to find a passable exit. Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down. Eliza collided head-on with something soft, yet solid as a structural support beam. A true wall of expensive fabric, accompanied by a wave of oppressive power that made the surrounding atmosphere grow thin.
As she slowly raised her eyes, Eliza's dread changed its shape. Hair black as night, imposing horns that looked like crowns carved from pure obsidian, and glowing luminescent-green eyes that shone in the pitch-black of the isolated garden.
Malleus Draconia.
The system in her peripheral vision began to flash red and green, triggering digital sound alerts in her mind:
[⚠️ INTEREST POINT ALERT: HIGH RISK
Target: Malleus Draconia (Diasomnia Dorm)
Status: Extreme Curiosity detected.]
Eliza swallowed hard, taking an instinctive step back with her hands slightly trembling. The fear she felt wasn't just from the destructive aura of the game's "final boss"; it was a structural fear. As an engineer, she worked by analyzing risks. She was a mature 27-year-old mind trapped in a 16-year-old biological vessel, inserted into an ecosystem that oozed an aggressive and overwhelming masculinity. Her social engineering instinct flared: being in a rigidly male institution meant that her true biology, if discovered, would turn her into a hunted anomaly or a political target. She pulled the edges of the ceremonial robe, closing it tightly up to her neck.
Malleus observed her from the height of his colossal stature. He did not find the common fear in her features—that reverent trembling or the superstitious dread that humans and even other mages showed before his dragon-fae lineage. Instead, there was the analytical panic of a prey calculating escape routes. His glowing eyes descended to her uniform, pausing for a second on the small, slender physical frame that contradicted the pattern of the burly students the Mirror usually selected.
"You are injured." His voice was incredibly low, smooth like cut velvet, but heavy with a gravity that seemed to increase the atmospheric pressure of the garden.
Eliza's voice came out a bit choked, a broken whisper that mixed the urgency of escape with the mental effort of processing the interdimensional shock:
"Who... who are you? And where am I?!"
Malleus tilted his head to the side in a subtle manner. The movement was slow, almost predatory, but coated in a devastating and aristocratic elegance.
"You ask my name?" A small smile, almost imperceptible and tinged with an ancient melancholy, shaped the mourning prince's lips. "What a genuinely curious creature you are. Ignoring my presence in the corners is the common behavior of students, but not knowing who I am... that is a novelty I certainly did not expect to find in the gardens tonight."
Wait a second... Eliza's thoughts began to spin at maximum speed, her technical mind isolating the panic to analyze the semantics of the Fae's words. I know who Malleus Draconia is on a conceptual level. I played the game, I know his profile, his powers, and the system warnings. But... do I know the actual man standing in front of me right now? No. I don't know his soul, his pains, or who he is beyond pixels. So, technically... if I say I don't know him, I'm not lying.
For fae, words have the weight of law and strict contracts. Using that logical loophole was fair play. An omission based on a strict truth.
She straightened her posture, holding the gaze of those luminescent green eyes with an audacity that shocked even herself. The System in her vision shifted to a vibrant green hue.
[🖥️ INTERACTION ANALYSIS: MALLEUS DRACONIA
Threat Level: Incalculable (SS)
Emotional State: Intrigued / Lonely.
System Note: The target is rarely recognized without prejudice. Your unique approach has activated the Interest Bonus: +50 points.]
Malleus slightly extended his gloved hand, pointing to the silhouette of the Gothic towers cutting through the crescent moon in the sky.
"You are on the campus of the prestigious Night Raven College, the breeding ground for mages selected by the Dark Mirror. But the more pertinent question, lost little creature, is not who I am. But rather... what you are."
He leaned his torso toward her. Eliza caught the sharp scent of ozone before a storm and the wet earth of ancient forests. Malleus, with his sharp fae senses, narrowed his eyes, his vertical pupils contracting.
"Your heartbeat is far too fast for an ordinary human, your scent does not match the lineage of the men who inhabit these dormitories... and your energy..." He narrowed his gaze, analyzing the flow around her. "You are a total void. An anomaly that the Mirror brought by absolute error, or by a very peculiar destiny."
Eliza clenched her trembling fingers against the fabric of her robe, feeling the gold embroidery and the cold of the night. Everything was too real to be a dream.
"Well..." she began, forcing her voice to sound firm, using her carioca street-smarts and knack mixed with her professional coldness. "Maybe there's a technical specification error here, since nobody asked for my authorization to put me inside a coffin. But since you brought it up... why should I introduce myself to you if you refuse to tell me your name?"
Malleus blinked, genuinely disarmed by her audacity. Any student there would have already stuttered, begged for mercy, or fled in a sprint upon noticing his horns and his aura. That tiny freshman was dictating rules of etiquette and reciprocity.
"You say I don't know you, and you don't know me," Eliza continued, a challenging and confident half-smile appearing on her lips. "If you wanted to keep the mystery of wandering around dark gardens like a ghost... how about we play a game? On hard mode."
"A game?" Malleus repeated the word slowly, finding the concept exotic and fascinating. He was about to give in and pronounce his imposing name, but the prospect of such an outrageous novelty made his ancient blood vibrate with curiosity. "Proceed, anomaly. What are the terms of your contract?"
"Neither of us can simply tell the other our name. We're going to have to find out on our own, by investigating. I'm a freshman, and I believe I'll be dragged into that noisy ceremony over there and forced to say something in front of everyone, right?" She pointed with her chin toward the Mirror Chamber. "But to keep things fair and difficult for you... in my homeland, we have many names. We have baptismal names, long surnames, street nicknames, work codenames... So, to make your side of the board harder, I promise I won't say my birth name in there. If you want to find out who I am, you'll have to solve the mystery. And I'll do the same with you. What do you say?"
Malleus remained silent for an eternal second, processing the proposal. Suddenly, a low, rich, deep, and genuine laugh escaped his chest—a sound he hadn't made in centuries. His green eyes flashed with an almost predatory intensity, but overflowing with pure amusement.
"A game of riddles and linguistic omissions with a fae? You are, without a doubt, the most audacious and outrageous creature to ever step onto these lands, little anomaly." He bent his immense body, leaning in close enough for her to feel the heat of his radiating magic. "I accept your challenge. But I warn you: fae do not usually lose word games."
"We'll see about that, 'mystery garden guy,'" Eliza shot back, her 27 years of experience dealing with construction workers and contractors giving her the perfect poker face.
"Very well. As you yourself have noted, the ceremony is already well underway. If you delay any longer, you will be left without a dormitory to spend the night, which would be an annoying structural problem. You need to present yourself. So, let us move forward. But you will have to hold on tight to me."
"What do you mean?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, her engineer reasoning trying to calculate the physical variables involved. "Do I need to make room for wings or something? Because if that's the case, that would be incredibly cool."
"No," Malleus laughed softly, finding the question adorable. "Something much less conspicuous." He opened his arms, covered by the imposing Diasomnia jacket, turning his face slightly to the side in a subtle gesture. "Be quick."
Eliza hesitated for a fraction of a second. But hearing the distant crackling of Grim's flames drawing closer through the garden, she took a step forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He was so absurdly tall that the top of Eliza's head barely reached his chest. Mindful of her male disguise and the dangerous proximity, she tensed her back muscles and locked her body, keeping a millimeter of distance to prevent her cheek or chest from pressing directly against his sternum.
Before she could ask if her grip was secure, Malleus returned the embrace with a controlled but overwhelming strength. The world around them simply collapsed. There was no sensation of physical movement; it was a violent transition of pure darkness mixed with a flash of emerald-green sparks that took away all her breath.
In the next second, they materialized directly in one of the stone side corridors that led to the Mirror Chamber. The impact of the sudden stop made Eliza stagger on the polished marble when he abruptly let her go. She blinked several times, dizzy, trying to reorient her center of gravity while system lines flashed in her peripheral vision until they disappeared completely.
Turning back to the horned man, she noticed something unprecedented: Malleus was staring fixedly at her, and an almost imperceptible hint of a blush colored the pale complexion of his aristocratic cheeks. He was clearly not used to that kind of direct physical contact.
"...What was that? What kind of magical technology was that?" she asked, adjusting her rumpled ceremonial robe.
"Merely a simple spatial transfer," Malleus replied promptly, clearing his throat lightly and regaining his flawless and imposing posture in the blink of an eye. "The ceremony begins just ahead, turning that main corridor. It would not be appropriate for me to..."
[🖥️ EMERGENCY MISSION UPDATED]
Objective: Survive the Admission Ceremony without revealing your original identity.
Reward: Unlock the "Jeitinho Brasileiro" (Creative Adaptation) Skill Tree.
Warning: Headmage Crowley is approaching. Prepare your "poker face."]
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"
A shrill, dramatically theatrical, and loud voice cut through the corridor like a blade. From the shadows of the marble columns, a bizarre figure emerged with long, angry strides. The man wore a crooked top hat adorned with crow feathers, a black mask that perfectly mimicked the beak of a bird of prey, and a heavy overcoat that fluttered like dark wings with every step. Headmage Dire Crowley.
"A new student wandering lost through the corridors accompanied by..." Crowley froze abruptly in his tracks. His eyes glowed intensely behind his beaked mask as he recognized the monumental figure of Malleus. The headmage audibly swallowed hard, his intimidating pose completely deflating. "Ah! Y-Young Draconia! I... I did not expect to see you out here! Well, I thought you wouldn't attend the ceremony, since, as usual, nobody bothered to invite you... I mean! It is an immense honor to have you with us!"
Eliza looked from Crowley to Malleus out of the corner of her eye, catching the exact word. "Draconia." She logged the surname into her mental database but kept her expression neutral. She glanced sideways at Malleus and arched a single eyebrow, sporting a slight corner-of-the-mouth smirk that clearly said: Look at that, I got a clue to your name for free without even trying.
Malleus, noticing the girl's silent provocation, narrowed his eyes, a mixture of amusement and his usual aura of cold power returning in the face of the Headmage's annoying presence.
"I was merely ensuring that this... lost creature... found the correct path to the hall, Headmage Crowley. Our encounter in the gardens was purely casual."
"I see, perfectly understandable! Since I am an incredibly kind man, I will allow this terrible breach of protocol to slide this time!" Crowley puffed out his chest, regaining his theatrical pomp and turning his attention entirely to Eliza, pointing a gloved finger dramatically. "But you! You are the missing piece in my student inventory! The Dark Mirror has already summoned almost all the dormitories and you were out here, conspiring in the dark corners! Come with me immediately! The black carriage does not fetch the chosen ones so they can go strolling in the middle of the night!"
Crowley marched with long strides up to Eliza, gripping her firmly but without hurting her by the shoulder, dragging her toward the monumental doors that opened into the Mirror Chamber.
Before being swallowed by the storm of chaotic energy that was the Headmage, Eliza looked over her shoulder one last time. Malleus remained standing under the shadows of the corridor's columns, an isolated, immense, and majestic figure. He held her gaze in the midst of that confusion, and just before the heavy wooden doors closed to separate them, he brought two fingers to his temple, rendering a subtle and elegant military salute, accompanied by that same intrigued, challenging, and complicit smile.
The game was officially on.
Eliza pulled the dark hood of her ceremonial robe tightly over her face, her stomach tying itself into a complete knot at the reality shock that was about to come. She discreetly felt the tight bandages beneath her clothes and swallowed hard as she crossed the threshold and entered the noisy hall, packed with young men whispering under the lights of the floating mirrors. The mystery of her existence was about to collide with the main stage of Night Raven College, and Eliza knew that her primary engineering tool from now on would be her surgical capacity to fake it and calculate every single word.