Chapter 10: Classical Music Or Orchestra

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Classical Music Or Orchestra

The soft strings of an old classical piece filled Seraphine’s car, causing Michael’s eyelids to grow heavier with every passing measure.

The melody was slow and measured, the kind that seemed designed to pull a person under. Michael folded his arms loosely across his chest as his head tipped slightly toward the window.

Seraphine glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and for a brief moment, an intrusive thought crossed her mind that made her body tremble ever so slightly.

The image of Michael’s relaxed face as she kissed him earlier returned with uncomfortable clarity.

Her gaze dipped, almost against her will, to the soft line of his mouth. Her lips still remembered the warmth of that brief contact. She swallowed once, then forced her attention back to the road before speaking, unwilling to let the silence grow any thicker.

"Does my classical music bore you that much?"

One of Michael’s eyes cracked open, but he still didn’t fully straighten.

"No," he murmured. After a second, he added, "It’s just... soothing to the ears."

Seraphine let out a short, genuine laugh. "That’s a strange way to call something a lullaby, don’t you think?"

Michael’s other eye opened a fraction. He studied her profile in the dim light of the dashboard—the sharp elegance of her features, the way the soft glow caught in her ash-blonde hair. Something about her seemed brighter than before, though he couldn’t place why.

He sat up a little straighter and glanced around the interior of the car, then out the windows.

Seraphine’s brow furrowed. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He settled back. ’Weird. There’s nothing nearby that should have her in a better mood.’

Sleep still tugged at him, but Michael pushed it aside. There was no point wasting time sleeping when he could be figuring out how to pull Seraphine, his next target, closer to him. After all, sleep wouldn’t make him any stronger.

After another stretch of quiet, he spoke again.

"I’ve noticed you’ve been listening to classical music since we left the school. Not that I think it’s weird or anything... I’m just curious. Why do you listen to it so much?"

Seraphine’s hands loosened slightly on the wheel, a small smile touching her lips. "Why do I listen to classical music..."

Her expression grew distant for a moment, as though something old had risen behind her eyes. When she continued, her voice was softer.

"As you already know, I was born in a time when this was still the popular sound—long before whatever you young ones call music these days existed. And it’s not that I can’t move past the past." Her grip on the steering wheel tightened just enough to show. "It’s just that an old friend of mine loved this piece. Whenever I need to steady myself, I end up putting it on."

She glanced at him, a self-mocking curve to her mouth. "I’m a strange old witch, aren’t I?"

Michael slid a little deeper into the seat. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah. You are a weird old lady."

Seraphine’s eyes darkened. She opened her mouth, clearly ready to remind him that kindness had limits and that she was still someone who could erase him without effort—

Then Michael spoke again, almost lazily.

"I like orchestra."

The words landed so unexpectedly that her planned retort died in her throat. Her expression cycled through several rapid changes—confusion, surprise, and something close to disbelief.

"...What?"

Michael closed his eyes again. "If we ever become better friends than that old friend of yours," he said, "don’t forget I prefer orchestra."

When he opened his eyes, Seraphine was glaring at him.

"Presumptuous brat," she snarled, though there was no real bite to it.

A soft chime sounded in Michael’s mind. Before he could check the system window, the music in the car shifted. The classical strings faded, replaced by the richer, fuller swell of a full orchestra.

He looked at her, startled.

Seraphine kept her eyes on the road and scoffed. "I happen to like orchestras too."

A quiet warmth spread through Michael’s chest as the system notification confirming his earned Emotion Points faded from his vision.

"Then, I’m glad we have something in common."

A faint flush rose across Seraphine’s cheeks. The reaction startled even her. She was over a hundred years old, one of the strongest beings in the First Heaven, and here she was blushing like a young girl over a boy she had known for less than a day.

She exhaled through her nose. ’Seraphine, you’ve truly lost your edge.’

The car began a steady descent into an underground passage. The main roads and city lights fell away behind them, leaving a dark path lit only by the car’s headlights.

Michael glanced out the window and almost immediately noticed the change in the air around them. It seemed heavier, slightly distorted, as though the space around them was under constant, invisible pressure—as if the very fabric of the world were twisted here.

’So this is the route to the Sovereign Realm.’

He was about to ask something when raised voices reached them.

Ahead, a group of people lined the sides of the restricted road. They wore heavy protective suits and gas masks. Hand-painted signs bobbed in the dim light:

[LEAVE OUR WORLD]

[YOU FUCKING DEVILS]

[HUMANS ARE MEANT TO WALK AND DIE—NOT FLY AND CHASE IMMORTALITY]

[POWER CORRUPTS—AWAKENED DESTROY]

[NO MORE GODS AMONG MEN! BRING BACK HUMANITY!]

Their voices rose in rough unison. "Leave our world! Leave our world!"

Michael’s expression hardened as he watched them.

Sensing the change in his demeanor, Seraphine spoke up, her eyes never leaving the path ahead.

"It seems you haven’t seen the true dark side of Awakened society yet."

He gave a small nod. He had always assumed the majority of people either admired Awakened or desperately wanted to become one. It had never fully occurred to him how many might hate them — people who had been hurt, people who had watched power be abused, people who simply resented what they could never have. To them, anyone who could end a life with a thought or a gesture was nothing more than a monster wearing human skin.

He let out a quiet breath.

Seraphine continued, her tone almost gentle.

"You’ll see more of this if you’re really planning on becoming the strongest. Some will hate you for what you are. Some will envy you. A few might even try to drag you down. The path to real power is a lonely one. Only a rare handful ever have people who stand beside them all the way to the peak. So... don’t take their words too deeply to heart."

Michael nodded again.

"And," she added, "do not even think about killing any of them."

He blinked. "Kill them?"

Seraphine glanced at him, and for once, the legendary Dean’s expression held none of its usual dignity.

Her lips pressed into a thin, almost sheepish line, while her violet eyes shifted with the guilty innocence of a child caught sneaking sweets before dinner—as though she were about to confess to some minor childhood mischief rather than an attempted solution to a protest.

"I tried that once, and it only made them louder. More of them appeared." Her grip on the wheel tightened at the memory. "They’re like damn non-believing cockroaches—crush one nest, and three more spring up."

Michael studied her profile for a moment, then closed his eyes again with a quiet sigh.

Yeah... she’s definitely not right in the head. Then again, I’ll probably be the same after living for a thousand years or two.

He rested his head against the window, somehow finding the mix of distant protests and orchestral music strangely soothing. The car passed several more groups before finally reaching the end of the underground passage.

The moment the car came to a halt, Michael opened his eyes and stepped out alongside Seraphine.

Ahead stood an enormous gate, so vast it looked less like a door and more like the wall of a fortress.

It rose into the darkness like a man-made cliff, nearly as tall as a skyscraper. Its surface was painted in deep obsidian and gold, covered in strange engravings that seemed to shift when viewed from the corner of the eye. There were no hinges, no visible seams, not even the smallest gap for air or light to pass through.

Michael couldn’t help staring at the beautiful yet eerie structure. The sheer presence of the gate alone made the air feel heavier and his breathing slow.

Seraphine stood beside him, violet eyes reflecting the dark metal.

"Take your final breaths of the ordinary world, Michael Kaiser," she said quietly. "Because this is the last threshold between everything you’ve known... and the place you’re about to live."