CHAPTER 222: CHAPTER 222: SOULMATES

Your eyes are hardening. Are you wary of me, hmm?"

The senior leaned forward with an amused chuckle, her hands pressed over her mouth unable to hide the curl of her lips that reached the light in her golden amber eyes.

She was clearly enjoying herself. Relishing my reaction.

She was teasing me.

As much as I despised the thought that she was merely using me for her amusement, I responded in a grounded, low voice.

"Do I have any reason to be... senior?"

She leaned back softly, offering no direct reaction.

"No. I’m not going to hurt you, Vic."

She twirled golden strands of her hair around her finger, looking down at me like something cute and interesting.

I tried to keep my expression placid, but my brows inevitably scrunched up slightly.

"Then what do you want from me?"

My voice came out a little sharper than I intended. It was obvious — I was slowly growing more and more impatient.

As curious as I was about her identity and purpose, my patience waned quickly the longer she looked at me with that same amused curiosity — like she was anticipating what her plaything would do next.

I also didn’t like how someone I barely knew kept referring to me so familiarly.

It was... unsettling.

And it made me doubt. Question.

Could... could we really have met at some point, this strange upperclassman and I?

On one hand, I was pretty certain we hadn’t. It wasn’t exactly a point of pride, but I had enough confidence in my memory to remember people who mattered — or what I deemed important. And someone who looked like her? I would remember.

But on the other hand... I had growing doubts about the trust I placed in my memory lately.

It was already proven that Meta could directly tamper with my mind, manipulate my memory to a degree.

What’s to say the System didn’t have a hand in this one, too?

I was torn in-between.

The worst kind of doubt in the world... is self-doubt.

Because it involves throwing away the anchors and beliefs that tether you to your own reality.

Sure, you might lose trust in people, lose faith in certain ideas or even the world — but there’s still some hope, even if I didn’t like calling it that.

But once you begin to doubt yourself?

It’s over.

If you can’t trust or believe in yourself, then who will?

The world sure as hell doesn’t care for good intentions.

Doubt.

I clenched my fist.

Is that what Meta was trying to achieve with me?

While my thoughts trailed, I heard the blonde upperclassman cringe slightly with a crooked smile and mutter something nearly incomprehensible.

"Uwagh. How do you even look at a lady with a glare like that? You really are..."

"What?" I almost growled, patience running dangerously thin from her behavior.

Then an unexpected voice cut through the alley behind me — right when I was seriously considering flipping her the middle finger and walking off.

"Is everything alright back here?"

It was a familiar voice.

"Uh?"

I spun around to look, and sure enough, a familiar figure stood just outside one of the open entrances to the alleyway.

Her cold silver hair shimmered under the daylight, where the sun’s rays reached past the massive structure of the gym building.

Ceres’ deep red eyes glinted in the light — her skin as white as winter snow. Her thin, silver brow was low, her expression impassive but steady as she locked eyes with me.

"Ceres...?"

"...That’s my name." She lingered, then tilted her head to the side, seemingly for no reason.

’Why did she do that?’ The corner of my mouth twitched. I wanted to ask — but more importantly... what was Ceres doing back here?

Then I facepalmed internally.

’Right. What else?’

It was the middle of the day, and classes weren’t being held.

Ceres was dressed in casual wear — a light basic top and loose sweatpants — and held a dummy sword in one hand.

Now I saw it. The reason her red eyes seemed to glisten even brighter — thin layers of sweat shimmered on her brow, adding a rosy hue to her snow-white skin.

Ceres had been inside the training hall while we were out here.

Her deadpan but captivating gaze drifted past me, flicking back and forth between the senior and me, before she stepped forward casually.

"I thought I felt a familiar presence just outside," she said, her shoulder brushing against mine as she passed. Her scent, like lilies, drifted past my nose as she came to a stop.

Her gaze wasn’t on me — it was locked forward, intent and unmoving.

Right at the golden-haired senior.

By the time I realized what was happening, Ceres was standing directly between us.

Almost like she was shielding me.

Almost confrontational.

With her back to me, I couldn’t see her expression — but I could feel it. The tension. The intensity between their eyes.

The golden-haired senior — who was about the same height as Ceres — stood straight with a subtle smile pressed thinly against her lips.

And just like that, something had shifted.

Her aura — the decorum around her figure — changed.

She’d already been striking. But now... her presence felt stately. Magnetic.

Demanding reverence.

If before she was hard to look away from, now it was impossible.

Her sun-golden eyes shone splendidly in the shadows.

Even though she stood eye-to-eye with Ceres, her presence seemed to look down on her.

I felt the pressure rise in me — my fists clenched until my knuckles turned white.

Moments like this, when I was backed into a corner by someone’s overwhelming presence, made the cold metal of the bronze Ring of Solomon feel even icier around my finger.

The tension in the alley hung like a taut string, ready to snap.

I didn’t know what was going on. I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. Not exactly.

And I couldn’t even explain why I was on such high alert.

Up to this point, the golden-haired senior hadn’t shown any real malice or hostility.

Even now.

But she felt... deeper.

More profound now.

Like I was expected to kneel.

Bow.

Lower my head.

And something deep inside me despised that idea. Denied the notion.

I couldn’t explain it properly — but an innate defiance stirred in me.

A kind of arrogance I didn’t know I had — one that wouldn’t let me even think about lowering my head.

Then, the golden-haired senior spoke.

Her voice, like flowing silk, defused most of the tension instantly.

"Ceres. I wasn’t expecting to see you here." She smiled at Ceres.

I glanced at Ceres’ back. My brow twitched slightly.

"You... know her?" I asked.

The one who responded instead was the mysterious senior. She chortled, but made it seem regal.

"I almost forgot you two were classmates," she said, glancing between us.

"And you seem close. What a coincidence."

Her amber, golden gaze lingered on Ceres briefly, then — as if a switch flipped — she pouted, cupping her cheeks in her hands and wiggling playfully.

"But I don’t know if I should feel relieved or worried." She mumbled.

"Doesn’t this mean Vic is seeing other women away from me? Ah, what do I do? My fragile maiden heart... Vic, you sly—"

She devolved into incomprehensible rambling again. Her regal aura? Nowhere to be found.

—Snap!

I felt a vein pop in my forehead.

That was it. I had had enough.

"That’s it. Look here—" I started, ready to give her a piece of my mind, when Ceres’ voice cut in.

She turned, glancing at me over her shoulder, her gaze meeting mine.

"You know her?" she asked, deadpan as ever, her flawless face blank as stone — repeating the exact words I had just said.

She pointed a finger at the senior.

Again, the senior was the one to answer.

She moved immediately, faster than my eyes could track, and in the next instant, she was right beside me — closer than I could breathe.

I couldn’t even think to breathe, talk less of reacting.

A radiant smile spread across her face, dazzling as the sun.

"Of course!" she beamed.

She grabbed my shoulders and locked me into a tight embrace before I could react, squeezing me against her soft body.

"Vic and I are soulmates. Right, Vic?"

I inhaled sharply.

Her scent — like a field of flowers in summer — overwhelmed my senses, my heart pounding behind my ribs.

"Are you fucked?! I don’t even know you."

"Aww, don’t talk like that, Vic. You’ll hurt this older sister’s heart. How about we go get something to eat together, hmm?"

"Get off me...!"

Ceres simply watched me struggle without saying a word — her gaze somehow looking even more deadpan than usual. If that was possible.

I shot her a look.

"Don’t tell me you actually believe what she’s saying?"

But Ceres slowly shook her head.

"No. That can’t be."

She pointed at the crazy blonde senior.

"Isn’t she the Student Council President?"

...Huh?