"Suspension?" Matthew frowned as he enjoyed his breakfast sandwich.
"Yes, Principal Wilson called and informed us that everyone involved will be suspended. Dean Fitz and Marc, as well as Miss Elisa," Cristoff answered him.
"I didn’t think they would take it seriously," Matthew said. "Have you looked into both Marc and Dean’s background?"
"Yes. Both are not from the city. Marc came here for his grandfather, while Dean Fitz..." Cristoff paused, making Matthew look up from his sandwich.
"It looks like his family is from South Africa. He has no relatives in this place. But his father... his father is a businessman—logistics, based in Hong Kong. I couldn’t find anything else aside from that," Cristoff said.
"And what seems to be the problem?" Matthew asked.
"His background is too clean."
"...." Matthew didn’t know that having a clean background was that big of a problem now.
"For some reason, the Fitz last name sounds a bit familiar," the ghost girl suddenly said next to him. By now, Matthew had already learned to ignore this girl’s presence. "I think I know a Fitz, but I’m not sure if this was a first name or a last name, so..."
Matthew shook his head. "Anyway, are you sure Lenox declined the party?"
"Yes, sir. He simply asked us to help him move his things."
Matthew nodded. He then quickly finished his breakfast and went to his room. He then took the spirit stone from his spatial bag.
Since he last consumed one, the hunger hadn’t returned—though that might be because he’d also absorbed a few spirits around the mansion. His control had improved; now, with just a thought, a ghost would begin to dissolve into him, slowly and steadily.
As Matthew sat down on the edge of his bed, he placed the spirit stone in front of him, but didn’t touch it yet. Instead, he flexed his fingers slowly and observed the subtle resistance in his joints, the tension in his tendons.
He’d noticed the changes over the past few days, subtle at first, but impossible to ignore. His appearance hadn’t changed; his frame remained the same, and his face showed no strange features. The ghost girl had warned him that overloading on spirit stones could damage the body, but so far, he’d been spared.
Still, something had shifted. There was strength now. He felt stronger, faster.
He stood and walked to the metal bar and touched the closet frame. With minimal effort, he bent it slightly before stopping himself. A few weeks ago, he couldn’t have done that. Now, it felt like pulling soft clay.
Then there was his core.
Matthew sat again, closing his eyes as he concentrated. Within the silence of his inner world, he felt the rhythmic pulse of his Nexus Core. Once chaotic and unformed, it now had stabilized.
Roughly twenty percent.
That was his estimate. He’d studied enough to know what a progressing core felt like. The Spiritual Enery or SE within him didn’t scatter anymore. It flowed—unevenly, yes—but with a central pull. When he absorbed spirits, it no longer strained his veins or made him shake from the inside out. His body accepted it.
The real sign was hunger. Or rather, the absence of it. When he first started absorbing spirits, the hunger came like waves, violent and intrusive. It threatened to consume him instead. But now, he could go for days without that urge. And when he focused on a spirit, it responded.
He looked up. The ghost girl floated silently near the ceiling, watching him.
With a single thought, the space around her tightened, the ambient Spiritual Energy subtly shifting. She flinched.
"What—what are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing." Matthew looked away and focused on the spirit stone.
The girl had always insisted she wasn’t a ghost—she’d even touched him before without being absorbed. But what just happened suggested otherwise, or at least hinted that something wasn’t adding up. "But I am curious," he said. "You claim you’re not a ghost. If that’s true... then what exactly are you?"
The girl harrumphed. "Why should I tell you my secrets?"
"You wanted me to find your body, remember?" Matthew asked. "I am not digging some graves—"
"Who told you that I am inside some grave?"
"You couldn’t even find your body. How do you know you aren’t buried underneath the ground?" Matthew asked. "How certain are you that you’re not even dead?"
"I—" The girl frowned. Then she lowered her head. "I couldn’t remember."
"I said, I couldn’t remember! But I know I’m alive. I am not a ghost."
"If you can’t remember these things, then... can you remember anything before you became ?" he asked.
"Well—" the girl hesitated. "I know I came from families that could travel through space."
Matthew blinked. Traveling through space? Like in scifi movies?
"Don’t look at me like that. I couldn’t remember anything else."
"What about the things that you taught me? Surely, you could remember more about spirit stones and Nexians, right?"
"Well—" the girl floated away from him. "Well, not much, really."
"I just taught you specifics. A child—I mean, a young Nexian would know those things. It’s the basics of the basics. I remember learning this when I was five."
Matthew blinked. There was a world out there that he didn’t know about. "So, do you have any leads about your real body?" he asked.
"Don’t tell me you don’t even know where it is?" Matthew frowned. This girl had been mysterious since they met. "Hold on... do you even know your name?"
"Of course, I—" the girl frowned.
"So, you don’t know your name." Matthew nodded. "And you dress like—are you sure you aren’t from Japan? You’re probably dead somewhere, like a samurai who perished in the war tens of years ago."
"I told you I’m not dead!" the girl rolled her eyes. "I know I’m not dead. I can’t be dead."
"But you don’t even know your name or where your body is. All you know is—"
"Isn’t that why I asked for your help?" she asked.
Matthew didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the ghost girl. An unreliable guide was still better than nothing in this strange world.
"Fine," he said. "I’ll help you. But we need a starting point."
"You have to go to CNA."
"CNA?" His brow furrowed. "California? China? What the heck is CNA?"
"A school?" he repeated. "You mean for Nexians?"
"There’s an actual school for Nexians?" Matthew’s eyes widened.
"Well... I think so."
"You don’t remember, do you?"
Great. He was stuck with an amnesiac ghost.
"What does CNA even stand for?" he asked, flipping open his laptop.
He stared at her, deadpan. "You don’t know what it means or where it is. So how exactly am I supposed to find it?"