CHAPTER 324: DATA HIDDEN BY REQUEST OF ASTRALIS BOARD

He glanced sideways at her, not because he didn’t understand what she said, but because her tone was just a little too casual for the kind of thing she’d just implied.

"Come on," Everly said, laughing under her breath as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You really think a woman like Lilith was going to keep pretending she didn’t notice you? And Seraphina?

That woman seems to fit seduction into her calendar between strategy sessions and corporate takeovers."

Ethan didn’t answer right away. He just leaned back, let out a slow groan, and rested his hand on his forehead like he was already regretting this entire conversation.

"I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to turn this morning into something it wasn’t," he said after a moment, voice low but steady, the words more thoughtful than defensive.

"I wasn’t trying to hide it, but I didn’t want it to get in the way either. Things are different now. After what happened. After everything shifted between us."

Everly leaned in then, closer than before, until her lips brushed the curve of his ear, and her voice dropped just enough to turn the question from teasing to something almost fragile.

"But you still like us best, right?"

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t deflect. He just turned his head slowly, met her gaze with something steady and real.

"You’re not a comparison," he said. "You’re my world now."

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t heavy. It just sat between the three of them like something honest, something fragile that didn’t need to be protected—just acknowledged.

Evelyn leaned forward then, reached across the short space between them, and cupped his cheek in her hand with a lightness that felt practiced and familiar, like she already knew exactly how to ground him. "Good answer."

Everly smirked, though the edge in her tone had softened. "Smooth. You better not use that line on anyone else."

He snorted, shook his head. "Not planning to."

"Good," she said, standing up and stretching until her arms were high above her head and her shirt tugged slightly up her waist.

"Because we’ve got class, and I’m not getting another demerit just because my boyfriend’s built like a sex demon and can’t move his legs after breakfast."

"You’re the one who ambushed me," Ethan muttered as he stood, trying not to grin.

Evelyn reached for her shoulder bag, adjusting the strap across her chest with practiced ease. "And first years have mandatory classes, remember? It’s in the database.

Attendance enforcement is stricter until they’re sure you won’t blow something up."

Ethan groaned, slinging his bag onto one shoulder. "I thought Astralis was supposed to be the chill university."

Evelyn just gave him a look that said he should’ve known better. "That’s second year. After you survive the first one without embarrassing the school."

Everly tied her hair up into a loose bun, her movements quick but graceful. "First year, we get babysat.

In the second year, they let us run wild. Until then, welcome to structure and oversight."

He didn’t bother arguing. He just gave the nearby console a final glance. The instructor profile was still up.

It’s still blank, and it’s still strange. That same message is still sitting at the bottom, like a quiet warning no one wanted to explain.

"Data Hidden by Request of Astralis Board."

Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t just here to give lectures and grade papers.

But that could wait.

He stepped into the hallway with them, the air cooler outside their suite, just enough to make his skin tighten slightly as they walked.

His thoughts still held the warmth of the morning, the kind that didn’t fade with time but lingered in his chest like something lived and remembered.

The rest of the dorm building was still quiet. Morning hours were always the slowest, and soft footfalls against polished stone echoed more clearly now.

They didn’t talk much. They didn’t need to. Everly walked beside him with a bounce in her step and her fingers lazily laced into his.

Evelyn stayed calm and steady on his other side, her shoulder brushing his now and then. It felt easy. Natural. Like something they’d done for years instead of hours.

Outside the corridor windows, soft light spilled in—neither too bright nor too dim. Just golden enough to tell them it was still early.

The city beyond the glass was already stirring—hover cars gliding along their vertical paths, students in neat uniforms gathering by campus terminals, the faint glimmer of Astralis’s central spire catching the morning sun like a blade of light stretching toward the clouds.

Ethan slowed as they neared the stairwell that led down to the courtyard.

"Let’s walk," he said, nodding toward the outer path. "The shuttle’s going to be a mess right now."

Evelyn gave him a soft nod. "That’s fine. It’s a good morning for it."

Everly grinned. "More air, fewer people. Sounds perfect."

They took the longer route without rushing. The walkway curved gently around the edge of the garden district, lined with trees that swayed with an actual breeze—real wind, not artificial air.

The trees here weren’t grown by mana illusions either. They were rooted. Grounded. Some had markings from previous students carved faintly into the bark, and the scent of the soil was clean in a way city air rarely was.

They passed a few other groups, but no one said anything. A nod here and there. A glance. But no one stopped them. Everyone had their own pace this early.

By the time they reached the main plaza, the inner trams had already begun to loop. One pulled in—a sleek, open-roofed carriage that looked more like something built for leisure than transport.

The sides were open, the seats cushioned, and the top was lightly enchanted to protect from sun or rain based on mood settings. It wasn’t just practical. It was beautiful.

They boarded in silence.

Ethan took the window seat again. Evelyn sat beside him, quiet but thoughtful. Everly stayed standing for a moment, her eyes watching the landscape as the tram started to move.

And then she said, almost to herself, "It’s weird, you know? We’re supposed to be here to learn, grow, and go through the motions like everyone else. But it already feels like we’re past all that."