Bolt and his team trudged through the academy gates, weary and battered from the brutal mission. The two remaining members of the Black Squad, still in shock from the massacre, walked behind them in silence. Their faces were hollow, their minds replaying the gruesome deaths of their comrades. The once-proud faction had been reduced to just two survivors, their leader lost, and their reputation shattered.
Bolt, his uniform torn and stained with dried blood, led the group toward the headmaster's office. His mind swirled with emotions—relief that they had survived, pride in his team's strength, and unease about everything that had transpired. Kairos' betrayal, the Demon Minotaurs' sudden evolution, and the sheer destruction they had faced left a weight on his chest that refused to lift.
As they entered the main building, students in the hallways whispered among themselves, their gazes flicking toward the returning warriors. News of their mission had spread quickly, but no one knew the full extent of what had happened outside the safe zone. The academy had sent out a squad of elite trainees, and only a handful had returned.
The heavy oak doors of the headmaster's office swung open as Headmaster Varkos, a stern man with sharp golden eyes, sat behind his desk. His gaze lingered on the group, assessing the injuries and exhaustion etched into their faces.
"You're back," Varkos said, his voice calm yet unreadable. "I take it the mission was... eventful?"
Bolt stepped forward. "It was more than that, Headmaster," he said. "It was a disaster."
The room fell into a tense silence.
"Explain," Varkos ordered.
Bolt recounted everything—the initial tracking of the Red-Horned Minotaur, the moment it evolved into a Demon Minotaur, and the way it slaughtered the Black Squad before they could react. He described the chaos of the battle, how they barely managed to bring the beast down, and then, with a hardened expression, he spoke of Kairos' betrayal.
The headmaster's sharp gaze flickered with something unreadable—concern? Disappointment? Caution?
"Kairos Vale... betrayed the faction?" Varkos asked slowly.
"He was the one behind the ambush," Aether confirmed, crossing his arms. "He led us into a trap and turned against us at the worst possible moment. We had no choice but to fight him."
"Did you confirm his death?" Varkos asked, his fingers steepled together.
"We buried him in the ruins," Sylva said. "There was no way he could have survived the final blow."
"That doesn't mean we shouldn't be cautious," Darian muttered. "Kairos was always cunning. If he planned all this, we need to consider the possibility that someone else was pulling his strings."
Varkos sat back, his expression unreadable. "The academy will investigate further, but for now, this mission is considered complete. You've done well to return alive."
Then, Bolt did something unexpected.
"The Black Squad lost everything today," Bolt said, glancing at the two surviving members. "They fought hard. They didn't run, even when the odds turned against them. That takes guts." He turned to the two battered survivors. "I'm offering you a place in Celestial Tempest. If you want a second chance... you've got one."
The room fell silent.
The two Black Squad members—Ren and Valea—stared at him in shock. They had expected anger, rejection, or even exile. Instead, Bolt was offering them a place among the strongest faction in the academy.
"You don't have to answer now," Bolt said. "Think about it."
Ren swallowed hard and nodded. Valea, still visibly shaken, looked down but gave a small nod as well.
Varkos studied Bolt for a long moment before speaking. "This is an unusual decision, but given the circumstances, I won't oppose it." His gaze hardened. "But let me be clear—this is your responsibility now. If they betray you, the consequences will be on you as well."
Bolt met his gaze without hesitation. "Understood."
With the report finished, the group was dismissed.
As they left the office, exhaustion finally set in. The battle, the losses, and the weight of leadership all pressed down on Bolt. Yet, as he walked through the academy halls, he couldn't shake a strange feeling...
Like something wasn't over yet.
---
Meanwhile…
Far away from the academy, deep within a hidden underground chamber, Kairos kneeled.
The dimly lit cavern pulsed with an eerie, unnatural energy. Blackened torches lined the stone walls, their flames burning with an ethereal blue hue. Shadows clung to the corners, shifting unnaturally as if alive.
Before him, a massive stone throne sat atop a jagged obsidian platform. And on that throne, a figure obscured entirely in shadows loomed—a presence so overwhelming it made Kairos' breath hitch in his throat.
"You return." The voice was a low rumble, deep and unnatural. It was neither male nor female, yet it carried an undeniable weight of authority.
Kairos kept his head bowed, gritting his teeth. "I failed, my lord."
Silence.
Then a chuckle—dark, chilling, and filled with something almost... amused.
"You survived. That alone is enough."
Kairos dared to lift his gaze slightly. "The Celestial Tempest… Bolt and his team… they're stronger than we anticipated. But this was only a test, wasn't it?"
The shadowed figure leaned forward ever so slightly.
"A mere prelude," it whispered.
A cold shiver ran down Kairos' spine.
"What are your orders?" he asked.
The shadows around the figure seemed to pulse, shifting in an ominous dance.
"Rest. Recover. Your true task begins soon."
Kairos clenched his fists. He had barely survived his last encounter. He had lost, been humiliated, and forced to retreat like a wounded animal.
But he wasn't done.
Not yet.
And neither was his lord.