The Cursed Extra: Twin Souls Against the World

Hex Master Plena waved her hand before Xane's face, her slender fingers leaving faint trails of light in the air. "Are you still there?"

Xane blinked, snapping out of the conversation with Zayn in his mind.

He was so weak that even a bit of thinking made his head feel heavy, but he managed to focus on her expressionless face.

He nodded slightly. "Sorry, Hex Master. I was just… thinking about the last incident."

Plena's lips curved faintly, not quite a smile. It was more like one of those corporate, emotionless smiles.

She sighed and tilted her head, a strand of silver hair shining in the dim light as she said, "Well, experiencing something like that could be traumatic. Don't worry too much about other things, just focus on your recovery."

Xane raised his eyes at this sudden shift in her tone. Just moments ago, she'd been cold and professional, dissecting his words with the sharpness of a blade. But now, in the span of a single breath, she sounded almost… gentle, almost like an older sister who cared.

He looked at her with a tight chest full of suspicion.

Xane muttered to Zayn. <Zayn, I don't even know what her true personality is at all. One moment, she was excited and practically drowning me in questions…>

<The next moment, she turned into this cold interrogator, staring at us like we were prey under her microscope. And now, this caring sister act. Honestly, she reminds me of our teacher Xenor.>

Zayn gave a thoughtful hum as he said in Xane's mind. [Yeah, but I don't know if she's genuinely like this, or if every shift is just another mask.]

Xane clenched his fists under the blanket. The more he interacted with these so-called Hex Masters, the more confused he became.

Each of them felt like they carried layers of illusions, deliberately weaving masks to keep their true selves hidden.

Was this how all masters lived? Behind veils, never allowing anyone to see their core?

It was still too soon to judge all of them, as Plena was only the second master he had spoken to after Xenor.

Even Luna, who outwardly seemed straightforward and harsh, might also be wearing a facade.

Plena broke his train of thought, pointing to his chest with the faintest smile. "Before we conclude, do you have any more questions?"

Her tone was polite, but it carried the weight of someone used to being obeyed.

Xane forced himself to stop overthinking. There were too many uncertainties, and none of them could be solved now.

He asked the one question that mattered most. "Hex Master, when can I leave this room?"

Plena shrugged her shoulders, casual and unbothered. "Whenever you want. You don't need to report back to me. Just make sure you eat top-quality food for a couple of days, and you'll recover quickly."

Relief washed over him. Finally, some freedom.

Still, Xane's eyes drifted to the faint glowing markings on his skin. He raised his hand toward them. "What about these markings?"

Plena waved dismissively, as if the matter was trivial. "Oh, those? Washable. Don't worry about it."

Her carefree attitude irritated him. It was more so when he remembered how she had used him as a specimen to teach her students.

Zayn spoke sharply in his mind. [Dude, ask about our ID. That's more important.]

Xane nodded faintly and repeated the question. "Hex Master, when I got injured back there, I had my ID with me."

Plena pointed toward the main door without hesitation. "Once you walk out, you'll see a reception on the left side. You can collect all your belongings there."

Her efficiency was both reassuring and unnerving. No hesitation, no pause, as if she had already memorized every step he would take after leaving.

Xane bowed respectfully. "Thank you for your treatment, Hex Master."

Plena jotted down a few notes on a hovering sheet of runes, her expression unreadable. Then, without looking up, she said casually, "By the way, I really like your guts."

Xane tilted his head, caught off guard. "What guts?"

This time, she laughed. It was genuine amusement, soft but unsettling. "You know, your dream to become part of the top team. It's good to have a dream. Although…" She glanced at him, her eyes gleaming. "My offer still stands. If you ever decide to change your path, you can always visit me."

Her words carried weight, like a hook thrown into deep waters.

Before Xane could respond, she stood gracefully. As she turned away, her voice floated back, calm yet firm. "By the way, Viyron, you should explore a couple of illusion-based hex arts."

And with that single cryptic piece of advice, she walked away as if nothing significant had been said at all.

Xane stared at her back until she vanished through the doorway, her figure swallowed by the light of the hall.

The moment she was gone, he exhaled a long breath, his entire body sagging.

He plopped back onto the bed, his limbs heavy. <Thankfully, it's over. I really thought she was going to keep pressing about my dream.>

Zayn chuckled, though his tone carried unease. [Yeah, we dodged that one.]

Xane rubbed his temples. <But seriously, why does she care this much? Why would someone of her level show this kind of interest in us? Don't tell me it's all just because of madness mode.>

Zayn hesitated, then spoke with uncertainty. [That might be part of it. But honestly, I think the real reason is the same as our teacher. She probably sees us as test material… an experiment.]

Xane's gut twisted at those words. <Oh, come on. Why the hell are so many people interested in us? Why can't they just leave us alone?>

Zayn sighed. [I hope for the same. But you know as well as I do, that's not going to happen.]

The two of them fell silent, staring at the plain white ceiling above. The sterile air of the room pressed down on them.

Now, with all his senses recovered, he could hear the constant muffled screams. The air here was filled with a flowery smell. It masked the body odor of the dozen patients all around him.

Xane moved his head and saw that a couple of these patients had open wounds with multiple runes around them.

For a modern person, seeing these open wounds left like that was truly a bizarre thing. It seemed like they were left to die here, but he could see from the calmness of their faces that they felt no discomfort at all.

Xane rubbed his eyes as he imagined himself in their position. His chest wound must have been left open like these people.

But instead of grossing him out, he found all of this much more fascinating. It was actually very different from his expectation of a Hex Master simply using hex arts to fully heal the wound.

There might be such hex arts, but here it was more of a combination of medical practices linked with hex arts.

Xane stopped looking at the others and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

Even though he had survived for now, it didn't mean their situation had reset. The dangers were still there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

Xane took a deep breath. His chest rose and fell slowly. <So… what's next?>

Zayn didn't hesitate this time. [Xane, to be honest, our situation has gone from bad to worse. We're already behind others. Not only that, I'm sure by now, everyone from Zenaris knows what happened to us and what we did.]

The realization slammed into Xane. He didn't even have to think too deeply.

Zayn was pointing at the Hex Master selection. He was sure that Melina must have known by now.

Just thinking of her response created more headaches for Xane. If she were anything like that woman, then he might be back in this room soon.

He swallowed hard and asked quietly, <Hey… how do you think our family and sister reacted to this?>

Zayn paused, considering. Then, in a careful tone, he answered. [I'm sure Zenaris used this situation to squeeze some resources from Paarkis' family. And if that's true… there's a high chance our sister took advantage of it. She would have gobbled down most of the profit without a second thought.]

Xane closed his eyes. <Great. Just perfect.>

But as his frustration ebbed, his attention drifted back to the faint glow still clinging to his body. The markings weren't gone yet.

Slowly, Xane pulled back the sleeve of his robe and stared. The runes etched into his skin shimmered faintly, like silver ink under moonlight.

They pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, each throb sending tiny ripples across the symbols.

He touched one carefully. It felt warm, almost alive.

The markings weren't just random scribbles. They formed layered patterns, geometric spirals intersecting with angular strokes.

Some reminded him of eyes, half-lidded and watching. Others curled like chains, as though wrapping tightly around his flesh.

He had even seen a couple of them in the empty hall he used for the projection plane.

A few of the diagrams on his body matched parts of those runes. He tried to rub off the runes, but nothing happened.

He rubbed his forehead, unsure if these runes were washable or not. <Don't tell me she marked me or something.>

Xane shook his head and pulled on the robe. He wanted to move out of this room as soon as possible.

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Is this style good?? Or the simple, earlier style is better?? Please do comment