Reborn as Lucas : TBATE FanFic

Arthurs POV:-

Lucas's expression hardened, his usual lighthearted demeanor vanishing as a sharp edge crept into his voice. "Who were those messing with her?" His eyes were serious, almost predatory, and the atmosphere between us grew tense.

Before I could respond, the tension broke as Tessia appeared, her presence commanding immediate attention. She walked in alone, her stride confident, yet her gaze quickly assessed the situation.

Tessia's arrival made Lucas pause, the anger in his eyes dimming slightly as he glanced at her. She stopped a few paces away, her sharp green eyes flickering between us. "What's going on here?" she asked, her tone calm but laced with authority.

Lucas grinned cheekily, "Nothing, Sister-in-law, just checking out the academy." Before I could even react, he added with a sly smile. I punched him in the shoulder, making him wince and let out an exaggerated "Ouch!"

Tessia's face turned a deep shade of red, and she quickly tried to hide it with her hands, mumbling, "Sister-in-law?" She took a deep breath, composing herself, before speaking with authority again.

Honestly, she looked cute trying to be serious. "Lucas, why didn't you come to the meeting today? You were supposed to meet everyone."

Lucas, still playing his part, lowered his face and pointed directly at me. "It's because of him; he didn't wake me up."

"What the heck? I'm not your personal alarm clock," I snapped back, clearly annoyed. Lucas just looked up at me with that same mischievous grin.

"Well, anyway, I thought I might show you around the academy during recess, but..." Tessia checked the time, calculating how long we had left. "The recess is about to be over," she noted, her tone practical.

Lucas didn't miss a beat, his grin widening. "You guys wanna eat? Meals on me."

"Hell yeah, let's go!" I replied enthusiastically. Without wasting a moment, we started marching toward the canteen, ignoring the curious gazes of the students around us.

As we walked, I couldn't help but sigh inwardly. The attention we'd be getting at this academy was only going to increase, and it was already starting to feel overwhelming.

As we continued our walk toward the canteen, Lucas turned his head towards me, his expression curious. "Art, what's your next class?" he asked, still walking forward with Tessia beside me.

"Artifacts," I replied calmly, not thinking much of it. Lucas nodded, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and glancing at it briefly.

"Yeah, mine too," he said, stuffing the paper back in. Then, almost to himself, he muttered, "I'll just have Ebon attend it; he's more interested in that stuff anyway."

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I woke up to the sound of a voice urgently calling me, "Father, wake up already. That man is looking at you with murderous intent."

Huh? Who is it? I thought groggily as I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. As my vision cleared, I saw a man standing at the front of the room—an old man with wild, mad scientist hair sticking out in every direction, dark circles under his eyes making him look like a character straight out of a horror film. His gaze was fixed on me, filled with barely contained anger.

I shifted in my seat, realizing Ebon was perched on the desk in front of me, staring at me with a look of disappointment. "So what do you want to say in your defense, Mr. Wykes?" the man—Professor Gideon, I remembered—asked, his voice laced with irritation.

I scratched my chin, searching for something to say. "Your voice is very pleasant, sir," I finally managed, forcing a smile that probably looked like it was about to crack under the pressure.

To my surprise, it worked. Professor Gideon's expression softened into a pleased smile. "I know, I know," he said, clearly flattered by the compliment.

I glanced around the room, noting the hostile stares from the other students—NPCs in my mind—who were watching me with barely hidden disdain. They knew better than to openly express their feelings, though; they were smart enough to realize doing so might lead to their funeral.

But something was missing—or rather, someone. I looked around more carefully. "Where is Art?" I asked Ebon silently through our bond.

"He left," Ebon replied. "It looks like the Director called for him."

"Grandma," I muttered, rubbing my chin. I quickly turned back to Ebon. "You learned the lecture, right?"

"Yes," Ebon answered, his tone efficient.

"Good," I thought, feeling relieved. At least now I wouldn't have to worry about failing any tests. Ebon could just feed me the answers. I leaned back in my chair, satisfied with how things had turned out, even as Professor Gideon continued his lecture with renewed enthusiasm. "Easy Life."

"Ebon, what's the next class?" I asked, glancing at the lizard who was looking unusually enthusiastic.

"It's team fighting mechanics 1," Ebon replied, nodding eagerly.

"Really?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. He nodded again, his eyes wide and shimmering with an almost comical puppy-like gaze.

"Oh, Great Father," he began, bowing with an exaggerated flourish.

"What the hell is up with you?" I asked, taken aback by his sudden change in behavior.

"Oh, Father, could you please grace me with your mana-shooting artifact?" he asked, still bowing as if I were some kind of deity.

"What do you want to do with it?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes.

"Oh, Great Mighty Father, I want to experiment with it. To help you, of course," he added, his tone dripping with over-the-top reverence.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You can take it when we get back to the dormitory," I replied, shaking my head to dispel the weirdness of the situation.

Ebon's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he straightened up. "It isn't like it's much of a help, considering it just now works as a little torture device for me," I thought to myself, feeling a mix of resignation and amusement.

As I turned my attention back to the front, I noticed Professor Gideon wrapping up his lecture, his enthusiasm still running high.

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As I walked out of the classroom, I spotted Veronica, and my heart immediately started racing. My pupils dilated, and a wide smile spread across my face as I approached her and her friend—whoever she was. My focus was solely on Veronica.

"So, are you okay?" I asked, appearing behind them silently. Both of them let out small screeches of surprise as Veronica turned as red as a tomato. Her friend—was it Iris, Eris?—whatever, she glared at me with obvious irritation.

Ignoring her, I asked again, "So, are you okay?" Veronica nodded, clearly flustered. I glanced at her friend, still glaring at me. With a subtle smirk, I let out just a hint of my bloodlust as I spoke, "Can you please leave us for a second?"

Her face paled, and she hesitated, trying to resist, but I could see my intent overwhelming her. The result of two years of relentless hunting had given me a knack for instilling fear. She stepped back reluctantly, leaving me alone with Veronica.

I turned my attention back to her, trying to soften my tone. "I know I came on way too strong, but I can't help it—I like you. Or maybe it's more than that... I love everything about you," I said, my voice tinged with sincerity as I reached out to move a strand of hair from her eyes.

But even as I spoke the words, doubts lingered in the back of my mind. Can I really call this love? It's a new feeling, something I've never experienced before—not in this life or the last. Not as a teenager, not as anything. Maybe I wasn't made for love, but this... this is something different. I need to explore it, to experiment until I understand it fully.

Veronica's gaze held mine, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to blur into insignificance.

"I also like you," Veronica stammered, her words barely holding together. That was all I needed to hear—confirmation for what I'd do next. But before I could respond, she turned and bolted like a startled rabbit, her red-headed friend hot on her heels, leaving me standing there.

I sighed, feeling Ebon shift from my shoulder to perch on top of my head. "What's up with your ears, Father?" he asked, his voice echoing in my mind.

"It's nothing important," I replied, trying to brush it off. But what could I say? In just one day, she'd become more addictive to me than any drug I'd ever known or could ever imagine.

The way my heart raced, the way my mind fixated on her every word and movement—it was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.

And I was starting to crave more.

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