How To Survive A Calamity-Chapter 256: Life is a Ball of Yarn

I sat there in the heavy silence that followed Alice's final words, my mind grappling with the weight and meaning of it all. For a moment, it felt like being hit in the face with a snowball—everything going white for an instant, the world blanking out on impact, and then the cold, stinging pull back to reality.

For lack of a better analogy, that was the best way to describe my thoughts: stunned, scattered, and freezing over. I wasn't even sure how long I'd been sitting there like that, but by the time I came to, Alice was gone.

No, she hadn't vanished into thin air. I'd actually seen her walk out the same way she came in—calm, deliberate, and with that same knowing smile that lingered just long enough to irritate me. She said something as she left, but the words slipped right through the fog in my head.

It was strange. I remembered watching her leave, but it already felt like a memory someone else had experienced for me. My thoughts were slow, drained, and refusing to piece themselves together.

And just like that, Alice Al'Rowen was gone.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, brushing stray strands of hair back as I stared at the half-open door with a dull scowl. Then something clicked.

"Damn it," I muttered into the empty room. "I still didn't find out how she even got in."

The only one to witness my current pathetic display was Hamlet, who had finally reverted back to its original silver-blob form. The gelatinous slime jiggled softly as it perched on the edge of a nearby shelf, bubbles rippling across its surface.

"Could I even trust someone like her?"

There was still a lot I didn't know. And while it might've been dangerously careless to let someone like that walk away, there was almost nothing I could do. The realization that I knew absolutely nothing left a dark, bitter taste in the back of my mind.

Even though I'd never truly been in control of my life up until now, at least before I'd been dealing with forces like the System—powers far beyond anything I could comprehend. But now… there were people who knew me, and clearly knew more about me than I did. That was new. And aggravating.

I'd already decided to cut back my reliance on the System and Meta, but that only made things worse. I couldn't even turn to it anymore without second—or triple—guessing every word, gesture, or intent it made.

"I need a break."

The stillness of my room felt suffocating. It didn't help that I could feel Hamlet's emotion—something resembling pity and worry—through our connection.

I felt utterly alone. And I had no idea what to do next. Where do i go?

Can… can I really keep going like this?

I thought that, come what may, I'd brute-force my way through everything until I was the last one standing. Until I had the final, victorious laugh.

But what had brute-forcing or deluding myself ever really brought me? I kept thinking it'd be fine if I just focused on getting stronger—that strength was the only thing that mattered. That if I pushed far enough, maybe I'd finally seize control of my own destiny.

But the stronger I became, the more chains I found binding me. That was the truth.

Looking back, the safest and most content I'd ever felt since my reincarnation were the days before I discovered Laplace's Dungeon. The moment I uncovered the mysterious Demon Lord of Entropy… without realizing it, that became the turning point of everything.

That damned Dungeon a year ago—it made me stronger, sure. But with that strength came truths I never asked for, and questions that only tightened around me like a noose. Knowledge that shaped my path… and shackled me to it.

It was after Laplace's Dungeon that the reality hit me: I needed to become immensely stronger for what was coming. That was why I came to Aegis.

Before the Dungeon, I was mostly nonchalant, deluding myself into believing I had some kind of control. But even after that… I was still clinging to the same illusion.

And every time I clawed my way closer to power, it came at a cost. Always a cost. Just like now.

The more I grew, the heavier the chains became. And slowly, the illusion of control I'd been holding onto… crumbled into nothing.

Someone once said, "If you wish to imprison a man without him knowing, give him the illusion of control."

That perfectly defined my existence up to this very moment.

Dammit.

The stronger I became, the greater a slave I was to whatever fate held the reins.

With a throbbing head full of spiraling thoughts and emotions I couldn't name, I sank back into my bed in silence.

And it went without saying—

I didn't get a wink of sleep that night.

***

With little regard for whatever hollow depression and existential crises I wrestled with, the world continued to spin indifferently on its axis. Time moved on, and the next day came far too quickly.

Sitting idly in class, my head throbbed with a nauseating headache that made it impossible to even pretend to focus on whatever Wrenna was furiously rambling about in homeroom.

In the end, I didn't get a single wink of sleep. Not even the thought of it.

'What is sleep? I mused bitterly. Sleep is an illusion, and the world is made of yarn.'

...It went without saying I'd been in better states of mental health than this.

My constitution as an Eta-ranked Awakened could easily handle a few sleepless nights, but I'd already burned through most of my mental and emotional reserves—spiraling into overthinking, self-loathing, and the occasional brush with suicidal thoughts.

By morning, I felt like chewed-up, spat-out crap.

The worst kind of crap.

My self-esteem had taken a hit, and my confidence was at an all-time low.

'I miss Adrienne…' I was even hallucinating the tender touch of my sister.

"Uhh, Victor, are you okay?" a voice said beside me — the voice of Alex, who I'd completely forgotten was sitting there.

I lingered, staring blankly at Wrenna, then paused and side-glanced at him with a husky, emotionally deadpan look.

"…Yeah?"

"You've been muttering something about yarns for a while now," he said, clearly concerned.

Alexander's words took a few moments to fully register. When they finally did, I blinked slowly, then gave him a courteous, thoughtful smile — the kind you give an old friend right before dropping a piece of deep life wisdom. Though, judging by how stiff my face felt, it probably looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"Alex, do you have dreams for life?"

The white-haired Alexander visibly flinched at my expression and glanced around cautiously, as if expecting an ambush. He looked flustered and confused by my question but still managed to reply, his tone full of worry.

"Uhh, yes?"

My warm smile brightened.

"Give up on your dreams and kill yourself."

Time froze for a moment. Alexander's face went blank.

"Wha—"

Before he could finish, a loud smack echoed from the front of the class, followed by a suffocating pressure that filled the room.

"Cadets Victor and Alexander," Wrenna's icy voice cut through the silence, "why don't you both stand up and explain to the class what's so important, since it clearly holds more weight than my lecture?"

Without a chance to breathe, Alex and I instantly became the sole targets of Wrenna's full, murderous bloodlust.

All eyes suddenly turned toward us from every corner of the class — some familiar, some curious, and others quietly snickering — as Alex seemed to shrink beside me under the pressure.

There was a brief, heavy pause. Then, I stood up.

"Instructor, do you have a dream?"

Before I could continue, Alex kicked me hard in the shin under the table and yanked me back down into my seat.

"I–I–it's nothing, miss! We apologize for disrupting the class! P–please carry on!" Alex blurted, his voice shaking as beads of sweat rolled down his face.

'What are you doing?!' he hissed under his breath, pinching my side in panic.

The stares didn't let up. The whole class was locked onto us while Wrenna Marlowe's expression grew colder by the second. Her amethyst eyes glowed faintly, and the suffocating pressure around her intensified.

If I didn't know better, I'd say we were seconds away from getting annihilated — but surprisingly, Wrenna didn't do anything.

Her glare sharpened, her lips parted… and then she said nothing. She just stared at us for a moment longer, as if deciding whether to kill us now or later, before turning back toward the board.

She pivoted on her heel and continued her lecture as if nothing had happened. The whole class went dead silent, clearly just as shocked as I was.

Even I had to blink twice.

'She's… letting us off? Even without a single insult?'

Wrenna simply sighed — a deep, weary sigh that carried the weight of pure disappointment — and ignored us entirely.