Journey to Become the Zenith

The Path That Should Not Exist

Watching Isabella shift in her seat gave Victor quiet pleasure. Not once did he bother masking his interest. Each time he spoke a surprise, her usual stillness wavered just enough to show through. A small crease between her brows appeared. Her mouth pressed thinner without meaning to. One tap of her finger broke the silence - then nothing. What stayed unspoken came across clear anyway.

Back in the chair he went, loose and easy, an arm draped without effort while those gold-colored eyes followed her, lit by quiet laughter.

Funny how clear it became, reading between the lines of that half-hearted leader’s silence.

Here we go once more. Trouble follows him like shadows at noon. This always lands on my desk somehow.

A grin nearly broke across his face just thinking about it.

Out came Isabella’s breath, long and low, as if pulling air through syrup. Behind her temples, pain began its crawl. Each arrival of Victor brought weight - a pattern stitched tight. Not just mess. Not only uproar. But labor, thick and clinging like wet paper. Worse than noise, worse than shouting - it was duty that scraped her raw.

Yet she sat up a little, shifting the talk away from danger just as his next words hovered at the edge of anger.

"So," she said, folding her arms lightly, "did you really go to the Mystery Woodland?"

Victor didn’t hesitate.

"Yeah," he said easily, like he was talking about a casual stroll. "It was a fun little trip. I actually got stronger because of that place."

Silence.

Then -

Isabella choked.

A sudden cough broke loose when she shifted, hand flying to her lips. Though her stomach was empty, a lump pressed hard inside her throat.

She stared, voice breaking, "You..." A pause. Then another cough. Her eyes narrowed, weak but sharp. Really? That was his answer? Was he truly meaning it?

A small shift of his head showed Victor had heard. He answered without delay: "Certainly."

Her eyes locked on his face.

This man...

Into that spot where so many explorers stepped, then vanished without a trace...

They named it a good journey.

Not only that -

Back he returned, built tougher.

He mentioned it as if it meant little.

Her fingers brushed her forehead as a quiet comment slipped out - how could anyone be so impossible.

He grinned, shifting slightly ahead.

"You say that," he said softly, "but you don’t look surprised."

Her eyes met his, sharp and sudden.

"...I’m choosing not to be surprised."

"That sounds like denial."

"That sounds like survival."

He chuckled.

Low.

Amused.

His eyes grew a little less sharp when they found her once more.

"You know," he said casually, "you should smile more."

She blinked.

"...What?"

He kept talking, like nothing could be more obvious. When your face lights up with a grin, he said, that is when you look right at home in yourself

A pause.

Her eyes locked on his face.

"...You’re doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Flirting."

A quiet shift in his posture gave way to a half-smile. The corner of his mouth lifted just enough.

"Is it working?"

Her lips parted -

Then stopped.

A flash of time passed. Then stillness returned

A shift passed through her gaze, barely there.

Her voice came out sharp, a quiet jab into the space between them. She turned her head, eyes finding anywhere but his face. Words hung like dust in sunlight - small, visible, impossible to ignore.

But -

Her lips curved.

Just slightly.

Victor caught it.

He would have done it, naturally.

"There it is," he murmured.

Back her gaze snapped.

"...What?"

"That smile."

A small click of her tongue broke the quiet just before she turned her head away - yet that soft blush creeping up her skin? Impossible to miss.

"...You talk too much."

"And you don’t complain enough."

"I complain plenty."

"Not about this."

For a moment, neither spoke. Stillness hung in the air like dust after footsteps fade.

Yet it didn’t feel awkward.

Back in his seat, Victor kept his eyes on her.

"...You’ve changed a bit," he added.

A small wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.

"How so?"

"You used to shut people down faster."

"...Maybe I just don’t feel like wasting the effort."

"Or maybe," he said lightly, "you don’t mind talking to me."

Her reply came later. Silence filled the space between.

A single tap of her fingers met the tabletop, repeating what had just happened moments before.

Then stopped.

"...Don’t read too much into it," she said.

"I already am."

"...Of course you are."

He smiled.

And this time -

Her eyes stayed fixed just a moment longer.

Isabella paused, her eyes fixed on him now. Then she just looked.

He sat as if space bent around him, claiming corners without asking. A loose stance, yes - yet something held tight underneath. Black strands fell where they wanted, wild enough to suit him. Not flashy, those eyes. Golden, sure - but calm, like still water that sees everything.

It wasn’t arrogance.

It was certainty.

It’s exactly why he couldn’t be trusted.

A soft breath slipped out as she moved just a bit in the chair.

What happened then? she wondered aloud, shifting gears just as things neared a corner better left unturned.

Still, Victor showed no sign of caring about the change.

"Oh, that?" he said casually. "When my food supply was running low, I just walked deeper into the forest."

She blinked.

"...You what?"

"I walked."

"...Deeper?"

"Yeah."

She stared at him again.

"...You realize people usually try to leave, right?"

Victor shrugged lightly.

"I figured if I couldn’t find the exit, I might as well find the center."

"...That’s not how survival works."

"It worked."

She rubbed her temple again.

"...Go on."

"At first, I thought I was just walking in circles," he continued. "Hours passed, but nothing changed. Same trees. Same silence."

His tone shifted slightly.

More thoughtful.

"Then I noticed something strange."

Her attention sharpened.

"...What?"

"Lights," he said. "Floating. Small. Like orbs."

She stilled.

"...You followed them?" she asked carefully.

Victor smiled.

"Of course."

"...Of course you did."

He chuckled.

"I thought they were fairies at first."

"And they weren’t?"

"No."

"What were they?"

He paused.

Then—

"I don’t know."

That answer...

Didn’t sit lightly.

"...You followed something you didn’t understand," she said slowly.

Victor met her gaze.

"Yes."

"...Why?"

He leaned back slightly.

Simple.

Calm.

"Because I was curious."

That answer—

Was worse.

Isabella exhaled slowly.

"...You’re either fearless... or insane."

"Maybe both."

"I’m not joking."

"Neither am I."

A quiet tension settled in the air.

"...Then what happened?" she asked.

Victor’s gaze shifted slightly.

Not away—

Just inward.

"So after following the floating orbs for a while," he said, his voice softer now, "I reached what looked like the center of the forest."

He paused.

A faint smile appeared.

But this time—

It wasn’t playful.

"You wouldn’t believe what I saw there."