Dismissal Crisis Two Hours In
About two hours after the possession. He was already facing dismissal.
"Of course, right? After an accident like that, there's no way they'd just let it slide."
She wasn't wrong. The accident had stemmed from Cain Dravel's magic experiment, and the fault clearly lay with him by any causal chain. It wasn't an unfamiliar sort of mess for him. He'd seen other mages cause them, and he'd sparked a few himself. He'd anticipated some form of disciplinary action—budget cuts, suspension, demotion. He'd even pondered his responses to each scenario.
But fired?
The others were mere setbacks, nuisances he could weather. Dismissal changed everything. For an ambitious professor on the rise, it would be a massive roadblock. But his goals lay elsewhere, so it hardly mattered in the grand scheme. He could recover from lesser blows, and he had the confidence to do so.
Firing, though? That meant expulsion from the academy. Losing his professorial status—and all the perks that came with it.
That can't happen.
Without that title, his path forward would hit serious snags. Sure, his credentials as a former professor would keep him from rock bottom, but climbing back to his current privileges would take time. In the worst case, he might waste decades in this world.
That would be a disaster.
Last observation showed less than ten years passed on Earth. But that's by Eldrion standards. Who knows the time dilation between this world and Earth?
A single misstep, and he could arrive home a thousand years late—to a punchline of a tragedy. He intended to return no matter how long it took, but not to a homeland stripped of everything he knew. To expedite his dimensional shift spell, he had to cling to his professor role at all costs.
No choice, then.
If they wanted to boot him for the incident, he'd have to prove his worth exceeded the fallout. Child's play for a grand mage.
Time to share a sliver of my knowledge.
Not to brag, but he'd once dominated the Eldrion Continent as its greatest mage. A single insight from him could send academic circles into a frenzy. Flash a spell or two, and his value would be undeniable. In exchange, he'd claim the support he needed.
The wildcard? If this world's magic outstripped his expectations. Unlikely, though.
I've already scanned the area with mana detection. Impressive civilization, but not superior to Eldrion.
His abilities should translate just fine. He'd observed countless dimensions for shift coordinates, and none boasted magic beyond his grasp. This wasn't arrogance—it was cold fact.
I'm leaving eventually anyway. Didn't want to meddle too much. But fine—let's show a taste of the real thing.
That was when Veronica spoke up beside him. "What's with that look? It's seriously annoying."
"....."
Cheeky brat.
*
As Cain solidified his internal plan, Veronica—munching on some nameless fruit she'd procured from who-knows-where—asked, "So, what's your plan? At this rate, you'll go from Professor to 'that guy who used to be a professor.' And with rumors already swirling about scrapping the Magic Department entirely, you've handed them the perfect excuse on a silver platter."
"Don't worry. I've got something in m— Wait. What was that?"
He'd started with a casual reply, but her words jammed his brain. It sounded like the Magic Department itself was on the chopping block? His personal firing was one thing, but dissolving the whole department? Over an accident with no casualties? That strained credulity.
Veronica, oblivious to his turmoil, continued blithely. "Duh. In this day and age, who uses outdated junk like magic? A department with zero students doesn't deserve to exist."
Magic is outdated? No students at all?
What nonsense was this? His ears heard it, but his mind rebelled. It clashed too hard with his worldview.
Is magic here different from what I know?
Magicless dimensions were rarer than hen's teeth across thousands he'd surveyed. Earth was the outlier. Everywhere else, magic formed the pinnacle of civilization—advanced scholarship, essential study. Even worlds that scorned "magic" merely rebranded it as next-gen tech, never escaping its foundational principles.
Is that the case here?
Yet inconsistencies piled up.
"Why act surprised now? I get the denial as a mage, but you have to face facts. Because..."
She pressed on as he frowned in confusion.
"Magic can't keep up with the times anymore. It's a relic."
Veronica spread her hand. Paht.
A faint flame flickered to life in her palm.
Magic? No. He knew at a glance. This wasn't magic.
Magic demanded formulas, chants—universal even for a grand mage like him. No trace of either here.
Aura? No. Even bio-energy flares carried a detectable flow, and hiding it from him bordered on impossible.
Veronica's flame skipped every process. Pure intent birthed instant result. Not building from 1 to 100, but leaping from 0 in one bound. An alien power.
He knew what it was.
"Ever since the gods bestowed blessings on humanity, no one's needed magic."
"......"
Miracles. Aberrant might from lofty divinities, rarely granted to mortals.
And astonishingly, this world let everyone wield them.
*
Possession is a messy affair from the host's perspective. First off, you don't magically inherit the body's full dossier. Foreign soul and flesh clash like discordant notes, no matter the compatibility. That "otherness" lingers—soul can't fully sync, body can't serve as proper vessel.
Like wearing ill-fitting clothes 24/7.
The logic extends to memory. Memories imprint on both body and soul: body as primary hard drive, soul as cloud backup. In theory, possession grants access to it all.
But imperfect sync hampers recall. Basic chat works post-possession, but finer details—like common knowledge or Cain Dravel's personal life—stay locked. Hence his ignorance.
Priority one: intel. Need the basics on this world's culture, history.
Boots-on-ground recon was the only way. Lucky break: his host worked at an academy. Information central.
"Shouldn't you rest more? You okay?"
"I'm fine. Doesn't seem like the time for lounging anyway. Gotta move, or it'll be trouble."
"You're getting fired soon anyway. Might as well milk the lounge facilities. Academy infirmary even sets out fruit— all seasonal, super fresh. Want one?"
"......."
Everyone here like this?
Anyway, after a day bedridden, Cain hit the nearest library next morning, devouring books. Soon enough, he grasped the basics of this world.