So we destroy the three. The body, the soul... and the concept that it ever existed.
Notes and books appeared in the hands of the students. Caesar pulled out his favorite black ink pen, while Izobel reached for her ever-dependable blue ballpoint.
The teacher's tone shifted, scholarly now:
When a being dies, their soul transcends the mortal shell. Each soul is drawn to the Judges of the Seven levels of paradise. But my interest lies not in the spiritual. I care for the physical.
Some students cheered, while others were still paralysed in fear.
Different races possess different names and philosophies for this essence.Humans have Dawnmark, their burning life force.
Caesar's mouth dried as an Intense Pain swept through his body. His hearts convulsing, his life flashing before his eyes, and his spirit fleeing his body. Then suddenly, the pain stopped.
When a human dies, Mr. Shawn continued. microorganisms invade the body—unicellular predators such as Arghertue and Gerhjsune. These creatures proliferate rapidly, consuming flesh, liquefying tissue. In roughly four months, a human corpse is reduced to dust—a remarkable feat, considering the body's complexity. Especially… with both hearts."
Caesar looked around. Every human student had pain plastered on their face. Though it was excruciating, Caesar felt more alive. He felt like he had died and been reborn.
Hey, you okay? Izobel asked.
I just felt this sudden jolt of pain. Caesar tried to look at Izobel, but it was hard to do in a dimension with no gravity. But I'm good, it's the dimension doing it.
Izobel's expression still spelled worry.
Hey, I'm okay. Caesar managed to grab her wrist. Giddy Caesar over here.
Izobel giggled. Okay, sure.
The teacher's voice thundered.
The Nephilim have their Seraphaine. Their core and their basis of existence. When they die, their body don't decompose into a slow, disgusting process.
All students were silent, waiting for the teacher's next fact to jot down.
Chalybe winced, as if someone had punched his torso. His vision blurred, his ear rang, and his blood boiled. His three hearts were giving way, and he couldn't hear his voice. But as suddenly as it started, the pain subsided.
When they perish, their Seraphaine visibly ascend into the Havens, glowing with celestial radiance. Their bodies resist decomposition—immune to bacteria and rot. Instead, they unravel into shimmering fragments of light. Over two days, they dissolve entirely into luminous ash.
The voice deepened. The head is always the last to vanish, remember it because it might come in a test.
The sounds of grunting echoed through the dimension.
Dude, what's wrong? Zeus tapped his shoulder.
Chalybe's eyes widened. I feel...alive.
The same process was followed. Whenever the professor touched on a race's soul, every student from that race would experience a high level of pain.
The clouds of the dimension created beautiful illustrations of the teaching, maybe trying to distract students from their pain.
Titans with their Vaelmir, Ghouls with Tharos, Dwarves with Karnweld, Neptunians or Merfolk with Kelvyr, Demi-humans and Aether, etc. No present race was left out.
There are many more, Mr. Shawn said. but time, tragically, is short.
Through the pain and agony, all students felt alive. It was as if the pain unlocked a dormant feeling, a feeling they had never felt before.
Murmurs flickered through the crowd. Caesar and Izobel were enthralled, their pens flying across pages even after the pain.
Caesar allowed himself a quiet smile, remembering the torment he endured to enter Black Meadows: the gunfire scars, sleepless weeks, and despairing days. he was proud - everything was worth it.
Izobel, in silent reverence, offered a whispered prayer of gratitude to The Almighty for allowing her to study in such a prestigious institution.
But at the edge of her vision—she saw him.
While the teacher now explained how Ghoul corpses scatter into flocks of crimson-eyed crows or silver-beaked ravens, Izobel's focus shifted. She nudged Caesar and subtly pointed.
Following her gaze, Caesar spotted him too.
A familiar face. Blue hair cascading like silk, just long enough to hide his eyes. Jacques—another of the Paragon 11. He floated toward the back, expression calm, diligently transcribing every word. His presence carried weight, even in silence.
Caesar couldn't help but feel a strange joy bubbling up—delighted by the sheer absurdity and wonder of having a teacher who warped an entire classroom into another dimension for a lecture on decomposition. What a day indeed
When Mr. Shawn was elaborating on why the bodies of Neptunians dissolve into saltwater upon death, his explanation was abruptly cut short.
Pardon me, class, he said, his voice still echoing in the minds of his students like a resonant chime. There's someone at the door.
In an instant, the entire dimension dissolved, leaving the students once again in their ordinary biology classroom.
Mr. Shawn stood at the front, an inscrutable smile curling across his face, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
With deliberate steps, he strode toward the door and opened it. A guard awaited him — clad in gleaming Imperial iron armor, exquisitely forged to resemble a knight born of nightmares.
The helmet, sculpted in the likeness of a dragon's head, gleamed ominously. In the knight's left hand was a lance, tipped with slaver crystal, exuding menace.
Mr. Shawn conferred with the armored figure for three brumites before turning back to the class.
That was amazing, Chalybe said.
That was...interesting, Zeus said.
Izobel laughed and looked at Caesar. What, Caesar? Are you still in pain?
Caesar's eye rested on the knight, with his mind working furiously. The shuddering of the armour, the presence of the wearer - Something was unusual.
It's the knight, Caesar whispered.
Chalybe and Zeus exchanged gazes.
What about him? Zeus whispered back.
The knight was talking to Mr. Shawn, grabbing his lance with an unbreakable grip. Caesar turned to see Jacques in the corner of the room. He stared back and mouthed, You notice?
There aren't meant to be knights here, just guards, Caesar said.
Uh… class, Mr. Shawn returned, it seems the knight has come to—
Before he could finish, the knight's gaze rested on Chalybe, the armor humming as if eager for blood.
He vaulted into the fifth row with blinding speed.
Caesar's eye flared crimson.
Jacques reached for his pen.
Izobel's hair blazed lilac.
and lightning cracked in Zeus's palm as the knight and the knight's lance screamed through the air, aimed straight for Chalybe's skull.