CHAPTER 323: HONESTLY? NOT SURPRISED

The moment the instructor’s profile opened on the screen, Ethan felt something tighten in his chest—not in panic, not in fear, but in the quiet way instincts flare when something doesn’t match the usual patterns.

[Instructor ID – Lysara Ardent. Specialty: Applied Power Theory, Interpersonal Energy Training, Celestial Flow Structures. Status: Honor-Level Assignment. Clearance Level: High.]

There was no photo. No linked credentials. No public ranking or archived teaching logs. Just a faceless silhouette framed in gray, and a single line beneath it, cold and to the point:

"Data Hidden by Request of Astralis Board."

He didn’t say anything. Just leaned forward a little, elbows resting on the edge of the table, and stared at that simple message for a few seconds longer than he meant to—long enough for it to feel deliberate, like the silence around it was part of the introduction.

Lilith hadn’t given him any clear warnings, not the kind you’d find in messages or system prompts—but in her tone, in the way her eyes had narrowed that day when she mentioned how Astralis worked behind the scenes, she’d made one thing clear: when someone didn’t fit the mold, when someone was marked as unusual by people who could rewrite records and seal entire histories, Astralis didn’t send professors... they sent people like this.

And after what happened in the Forbidden Zone, after the way the system responded to him and the cult reacted to his presence like they’d been planning for years to find someone like him—it would’ve been weirder if no one showed up.

He didn’t dwell on it.

Instead, he stood and began clearing the table, moving without rush, letting his body handle the routine while his thoughts settled in the background. He collected the mugs first, then the plates.

He picked up the bowl of berries Everly had mostly played with, remembered the way she’d tried to balance one on Evelyn’s nose before nearly tipping it over, and couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

As he rinsed each dish and wiped the counter clean, his mind drifted back to the girls—their warmth, their weight against him, the way Everly had curled across his lap like she had no intention of ever moving again, and Evelyn’s soft exhale against his collarbone as she drifted in and out of that early-morning haze.

The way it had shifted—from teasing glances and playful tension into something deeper, something grounded—wasn’t something he could forget even if he wanted to.

And maybe it was the echo of that intimacy still lingering in his chest that made him pause halfway down the hall, just for a moment, when he heard the water still running behind the bathroom door.

The sound of soft voices, muffled but easy to recognize, came through faintly—Evelyn’s quieter tone mixing with Everly’s occasional laugh, the kind of laughter you try to hold back but can’t when the company is too close and the air still feels warm from sleep.

He didn’t interrupt.

Just changed into fresh clothes, combed his fingers through his hair, splashed cold water on his face to ground himself, and returned to the living room with his mind a little more settled.

The console was still on.

The countdown for the instructor ticked forward steadily. A little under four hours left.

He sat at the edge of the couch, leaned back with his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes—not to sleep, not even to think, but just to sit still for a second before the day really started.

Then the soft click of the bathroom door opening drew his attention.

Everly came out first, wrapped in nothing but a towel, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders and chest, water still glistening along the smooth lines of her legs. She saw him and grinned like they hadn’t just spent the night wrapped around each other.

"Still alive, huh?"

Ethan didn’t move. Just raised an eyebrow and let out a breath. "Barely."

Evelyn followed behind her, already dressed in a loose off-shoulder sweater that fell to her thighs and short cotton shorts underneath.

She brushed her still-damp hair behind her ear as she walked past him, her glance soft but unreadable, like she was still quietly cataloguing the emotions from earlier.

Everly flopped onto the couch beside him without warning, towel riding dangerously low, her skin warm from the steam and close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her legs.

She stretched like a cat, arms overhead, and then tilted her head toward him, her voice casual but very much not innocent.

"So... mind if I ask something now?"

He glanced at her, knowing exactly where this was going, but playing along. "Go ahead."

She turned her whole body to face him, one leg tucked under the other. "How the hell did you last that long?"

Evelyn, who had just picked up her cup of tea, choked slightly, not expecting that level of bluntness.

"Everly—!" she muttered.

"What?" Everly said with no shame whatsoever. "I’m just saying, that wasn’t beginner energy. Not even close.

The stamina, the way you moved, the pressure points—like, do they teach that at school now or what?"

Ethan paused mid-bite, the toast in his hand suddenly feeling much heavier than it should’ve.

He chewed. Swallowed. Looked at them both. Then sighed.

"I’ve... done it before."

Everly raised her eyebrows.

Evelyn just blinked slowly, setting her tea down with more control than surprise.

"With who?" Everly asked, already grinning. "Spill."

He hesitated, just for a second, then rubbed the back of his neck and answered without any extra decoration. "Seraphina. And... Lilith."

The silence that followed lasted a beat longer than expected.

Evelyn opened her mouth like she wanted to say something but didn’t. Everly, on the other hand, leaned back and let out a low whistle.

"Lilith Lilith?"

"Yes, Lilith, my adoptive mother," Ethan said quickly, keeping his voice calm. "And I was already an adult. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t planned. It just... happened."

Evelyn looked away, not upset, just processing. She took another slow sip, her fingers wrapped tightly around the cup.

Everly, as expected, had no filter. "Honestly? Not surprised."