Scientist and Her Anomaly

"The great tragedy of science—the slaying of a beautiful hypothesis by an ugly fact."

— Thomas Huxley

———

But then I remembered something crucial about Professor Laurana Delacroix. She wasn't human. She was an elf, ancient and brilliant, but she viewed the world through the lens of pure logic and mathematical certainty. She expected rational explanations for observed phenomena. She expected proofs and formulae and logical frameworks.

What she didn't expect was complete, genuine incomprehension.

I let my eyes go wide, my face cycling through confusion, fear, and dawning terror. My voice came out as a strangled whisper.

"M-mathematics? P-proofs?" I took a step backward, nearly stumbling over my own feet. "Professor, I don't... I think my head is still ringing from when Vance hit me..."

I swayed slightly, one hand going to my temple as if fighting dizziness. The motion was calculated but based on genuine physical memory—my ribs still ached, and the healing process had left me with occasional moments of actual lightheadedness.

"I barely understand basic mana theory," I continued, my voice cracking with what sounded like genuine distress. "Advanced formulae? Seventh-order harmonics? I don't even know what those words mean!"

For the first time since I'd known her, Professor Laurana Delacroix's expression shifted. Not to suspicion or anger, but to something far more dangerous—profound scientific confusion. Her violet eyes dimmed slightly, and the floating diagrams around her flickered as if responding to her mental state.

"You... do not comprehend the mathematical implications of what occurred?" Her voice carried a note of bewilderment that seemed almost foreign coming from her.

"Professor, I can barely add numbers without using my fingers." I let my voice climb toward panic. "Whatever happened during that fight, I don't understand it. I got hit really hard, and everything went black, and when I woke up I was in the infirmary. If something magical happened, it wasn't because of anything I did on purpose."

Laurana stared at me for several long moments, her analytical mind clearly struggling to process the paradox I represented. Her violet eyes moved between me and the floating magical signature, comparing observed data with the source that should have generated it.

"The axiomatic evidence is irrefutable," she murmured, more to herself than to me. "The transference event occurred. The mathematical signatures are clear. Yet the source claims no knowledge of the theoretical framework required..."

She began pacing, her ethereal form moving in tight circles as diagrams shifted and reformed around her. I could practically see her brilliant mind working through the problem, trying to reconcile impossible data with logical explanation.

"Perhaps," she said slowly, "the trauma of the impact created some form of spontaneous magical resonance. An unconscious manipulation of mana flow triggered by extreme physical stress..."

I seized on the lifeline she was offering herself.

"That... that could be it, couldn't it?" I made my voice sound hopeful, desperate for any explanation that didn't require me to understand complex magic. "I mean, people sometimes do strange things when they're hurt really badly. Maybe my magic just... went weird?"

Laurana's violet eyes fixed on me again, but now they held the intensity of a researcher who had encountered a phenomenon that challenged her fundamental understanding of how magic worked.

"Unconscious skill transference triggered by traumatic stress," she repeated slowly. "It would explain the mathematical signatures while accounting for your apparent lack of theoretical knowledge. A spontaneous event rather than a deliberate manipulation..."

The diagrams around her began shifting again, reforming into new patterns as she worked through this revised hypothesis. I could see her brilliant mind latching onto the possibility, finding ways to make the evidence fit a framework that didn't require me to be something other than what I appeared.

"Most fascinating," she murmured. "If such events can occur spontaneously, it would revolutionize our understanding of skill acquisition and mana transference. The implications for magical theory would be..."

She trailed off, lost in contemplation of the academic possibilities. For a moment, I thought I was safe. Then her violet eyes snapped back to me with renewed intensity.

"I shall need to monitor you closely, Student Leone. If you are indeed capable of unconscious skill transference, it represents a phenomenon of unprecedented scientific importance. I will be conducting regular analytical scans to observe any further manifestations of this ability."

Oh, hell.

"Regular scans?" My voice came out as a squeak.

"Indeed. Weekly, at minimum. Perhaps more frequently if additional events occur." Her expression held the hungry fascination of a scientist who had discovered a new species. "You may go to the assembly now, but I expect you to report any unusual magical experiences immediately. No matter how minor they may seem."

I nodded frantically, backing toward the door while maintaining my expression of confused terror. "Yes, Professor. Of course, Professor. Thank you for explaining... whatever it was that happened."

"Oh, I have explained nothing, Student Leone." Her violet eyes glowed brighter. "I have merely identified a paradox that requires extensive investigation. You have become quite the fascinating puzzle."

I fled.

The corridor outside felt like a sanctuary compared to that crystalline classroom filled with floating mathematics and analytical hunger. My hands were actually shaking now—not from performance, but from the realization of how close I'd come to complete exposure.

She bought it. For now. But she's going to be watching me like a hawk from here on out.

Worse than that, she was going to be conducting regular magical scans. My Master of Disguise skill might fool casual observation, but sustained analytical examination by someone of Laurana's capabilities? That was a different kind of threat entirely.

As I limped down the corridor, maintaining my injured act for any observers, my mind raced through the implications. Professor De Clare suspected something was off about my fighting abilities. Rhys was asking pointed questions about my behavior during the match. Seraphina had seen something during her diagnostic that made her cover for me. And now Laurana Delacroix, the most intellectually dangerous person in the academy, thought I was a fascinating scientific anomaly worthy of intensive study.

I'm accumulating way too much attention. This whole 'flying under the radar' strategy is falling apart.

But as I reached the relative safety of the dormitory corridors, another thought occurred to me. Laurana's hypothesis about unconscious skill transference might actually provide perfect cover for future acquisitions. If she believed I could steal skills without meaning to, it would explain away any future "anomalies" she detected.

Every crisis is an opportunity. She's handed me a framework for explaining the impossible.