The Extra's Rise

After the Sophomore Ball ended and my conversation with the Headmaster left me staring down the reality of my choices, I found myself thinking.

What did I really want?

This second chance at life—something that someone like me had been given.

Something I didn't deserve.

Survival wasn't enough. Strength wasn't enough.

I wanted to be happy.

I wanted to feel human.

Because in my last life, I had never been anything more than a tool—something people fought over, something meant to be used, sharpened, wielded. A genius whose value was determined by how many hands reached out to claim him.

But I was not a thing to be owned.

I was not a prize to be fought over.

I wanted to live.

To carve out a place in this world that was entirely my own.

Originality. The proof that I existed.

I needed that.

So even if they didn't understand now, I would make them. Over time, I would teach them—Rachel, Cecilia, Seraphina. Because they had helped me prove myself, helped me see that my life was my own. And they were not people I wanted to be without.

But they needed to understand.

I stepped out of Eva's office to find the three princesses waiting for me, flanked by their Ascendant-rank guards. Rose stood apart from them, not restrained, not part of their silent battle for control.

I moved toward her.

Not a glance spared for Rachel, Cecilia, or Seraphina.

I could feel their eyes boring into me. The weight of their expectations, their unspoken claims.

'I have been too passive.'

Because I liked them, I wanted to accommodate them. I had hoped they would change.

But people don't change on their own.

Not unless you force them to.

I stopped before Rose, knelt, and took her hand in mine.

"Will you offer me this dance?" I asked, bringing my lips to the back of her hand in a light kiss.

Her breath caught. Behind me, Seraphina made a sound—something caught between disbelief and protest.

"Arthur..."

"Are you choosing Rose?" Cecilia asked, her voice sharp.

I closed my eyes. Then, I met their gazes.

"No," I said. "I like all four of you. Equally."

Silence. Heavy.

"But for tonight—for this little competition—I choose to dance with Rose first."

Rachel looked stricken. Cecilia's fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to snatch me back. Seraphina's lips parted slightly, but no words came.

I felt a pang in my chest.

I hated seeing them like this.

But I had to be firm.

I hardened my expression, my voice turning cold.

"I am not something you can have just because you want to," I said, letting the words settle. "If you want me to express the love I feel for you freely, then earn it. Show me that you understand."

I turned, leading Rose away.

None of them stopped me.

Not this time.

Once we were out of earshot, Rose let out a quiet laugh.

"Wow. I can't believe you actually did that."

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "I didn't want to, but I had to. I had to make them understand that I won't tolerate that kind of behavior from them. Even if—" I hesitated. "Even if they decide to break up with me because of it."

Rose tilted her head. "You're not afraid?"

I met her gaze and smiled.

"I know they won't."

She let out a breath, shaking her head. "Very confident, aren't you, Arthur?"

"You tell me."

Rose grinned and stepped closer, wrapping her arms around me in a loose embrace.

"Well, since I win," she murmured, "that means I get your time tonight, right?"

"That was the deal," I said.

She took my hand, leading me into the gardens.

And there, beneath the quiet glow of the moonlight, we danced.

"Anyway, I feel happy now," Rose murmured as we swayed together in the quiet, her voice carrying a softness that settled deep in my chest. "Dancing with you makes me so happy."

"I'm glad," I said, twirling her, watching as moonlight caught in her hair, painting it in silver-blue hues.

"But… isn't the staff going to catch us?" she asked, suddenly wary.

I raised a brow. "You worry about that now?"

She flushed, looking away. "I-I just… I wanted to do this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "With you."

I smirked. "Knew it." I pulled her closer, our bodies aligning perfectly as we slowed. "So, you're mine?"

Her crimson eyes gleamed as she met my gaze. "Of course."

The dance ended, but neither of us moved apart. The air between us was warm, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

I leaned in.

And then our lips met, soft and certain, like the pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.

Rose melted into the kiss, her fingers curling into the fabric of my suit as if to anchor herself. When we finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine, her breath mingling with mine in the cool night air.

"I will give everything to you if you ask for it," she whispered, her voice laced with devotion. "Even Vakrt."

I brushed my thumb over her cheek, my touch light but firm. "I don't want Vakrt," I told her. "I want you."

"You already have me," she murmured.

And then she kissed me again.

This was the warmth I had always been searching for.

The warmth I wanted from all of them.

The warmth that, together, would shape my originality.

That would make me human.

That would make me breathe and live.

And to protect this—to protect the warmth I had found in my life, with the four girls who had woven themselves into my existence, with my family—

I would do anything.
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Even if it meant tearing apart the Five Cults.

Even if it meant crushing the future Calamities before they ever had a chance to rise.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Rachel clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms, but she barely registered the sting. Her breath hitched, uneven, as her mind spiraled into a chaos she couldn't control.

'Arthur doesn't like me the most.'

The thought echoed, a dull, crushing weight settling deep in her chest.

Her shoulders trembled. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

'I even bought this dress…' She looked down at the glittering fabric, at the delicate embroidery she had chosen with care, at the way it hugged her figure—crafted for one purpose. 'To entice him.'

She had wanted him to look at her, to hold her close, to whisper something just for her. To prove that she wasn't just another contender in this impossible game.

'But he picked Rose.'

Her breath shuddered out of her lungs.

'Does that mean… I bother him?'

Her throat tightened, an awful, suffocating sensation.

'He doesn't want me? He doesn't love me?'

Her mind recoiled at the thought, but once it had lodged itself there, it refused to leave.

'He doesn't want to hug me? He doesn't want to kiss me?'

A sharp inhale. Her vision blurred.

'But—no, I remember how he looks at me.'

Her fingers pressed against her lips.

'I remember the way his gaze lingers, the way his breath catches—he likes me. He must like me.'

But doubt clawed at her.

'Or is that just how boys are?'

Her stomach twisted violently.

'Is it just… a biological response?'

'Not love? Not me?'

The thought made her want to scream.

'Could it be… he liked me before, but not anymore?'

'Did I scare him away?'

Her body swayed slightly. She felt weightless, like she was slipping off the edge of something she couldn't name.

'I'm going to lose Arthur.'

Her fingers dug into her arms.

'I'm going to lose Arthur.'

Her breath came faster, shallow and desperate.

'I'm going to lose Arthur. I'm going to lose Arthur. I'm going to lose Arthur.'

The words pounded through her skull, each repetition like a hammer against fragile glass.

And then, something inside her cracked.

She couldn't lose him.

Not now. Not ever.

Arthur had shown her hope—a future beyond being just a Saintess shackled to some nameless Hero.

He had shown her that she was human, that she could want things, that she had the right to want things.

She couldn't go back.

She wouldn't go back.

Tears burned at the edges of her vision. Her hands shook as she forced herself to stand, swaying on unsteady feet.

Luke stepped forward, concern flickering across his face.

Rachel didn't let him speak.

She snapped her fingers, and the teleportation circle flared beneath her, swallowing her whole in a burst of golden light.

The moment she landed in her room, her legs gave out.

She collapsed onto the bed, her limbs tangled in the expensive fabric of her dress.

She didn't care.

She buried her face in the pillows, muffling the quiet, broken sobs that clawed their way out of her throat.

Because she was going to lose the person she loved.